Full Circle 11 – 13

Few days later...

Monday morning had finally rolled around, Xander gathering up his hardhat and looking towards Spike, who was sitting in Xander´s uncomfortable armchair while looking at everything in the damp basement bar Xander himself.

"Spike... Spike? Fine then, don´t listen but I´m just going outta my way to tell you that I´ll be back around 5.30, 6 o´clock tonight at the latest, OK... OK? Fuckin´ hell, whatever. You know, after all I´ve done for you, you really are a rude piece of shit aren´t you?" snapped Xander, as he saw that Spike was still ignoring him. Climbing the creaking stairs, he tried not to flood the small room with sunlight as he pushed the door open. With a look up at the sky, he realised he needn´t have bothered as he took in the large thunderclouds gathering overhead. With a thought of if he would make it to work before it started to rain, Xander headed off in the direction of the construction site of the newest department store to hit Sunnydale, K–Mart. As he walked down the uneven footpath to the corner of his street, Xander wondered what the bleached wonder was going to do now that he was essentially back to normal. Spike´s ankle was surprisingly slow to heal and as a result, Spike was still limping, although nowhere near as much as he used to. Mulling this over in his head, Xander reached the corner of his street, looked both ways for oncoming traffic and crossed the street towards the centre of downtown Sunnydale. A glance at his watch told him that he would make the new work site with lots of time to spare and as such, Xander slowed down his pace in order to take in the scenery as he passed it by. Not really taking much notice of the bare gardens, he thought that he was lucky that neither of his parents or Uncle Rory had come barging into his so called private rental property and discovered that Xander was ´sub–letting´ to Spike.

Xander knew that his dad or Uncle Rory, quite possible both, would kick the literal crap out of him for not only having a ´guest´ stay with him but a male one at that who wasn´t even paying rent. Xander grimaced in distaste as he recalled all the extra rent he had had to pay for the privilege of having Anya stay overnight in *his* basement. Arseholes, he thought to himself. If his parents found out about Spike, he wouldn´t put it past them to not only charge him extra rent but also actually demand interest on it. Chuckling suddenly, Xander wondered, if given a calculator, pen and paper, which out of the two of them would work it out not only first but also correctly.

"And the answer to that would be... Mom, ´cause I sure as hell didn´t get my Mensa qualifications from Dad," Xander sneered, nodding to himself as he thought of how intelligent Homer Simpson was when compared to his father. For as long as he could remember, his Dad had instilled in Xander that there was one correct way of thinking and asking people to do things, using your fists while backed up with a foul temper. Xander wasn´t like that and he never wanted to be, besides, he had a hard enough time trying to hide the foul temper that always threatened to overwhelm him, sometimes on a daily basis. A temper that he had definitely inherited from his paternal side of the family, his father and uncle frequently exploding in fits of rage. Both men prone to destroying anything they could lay their hands on, beating anyone within arms reach into submission and over the years, that person had usually been Xander or his mother. As much as he laughed about his clumsiness to Buffy, Willow and the others, not all of his injuries had been the result of patrolling; something that Xander took great pains to hide. Simply, it was no–one´s business but his own.

As he approached the front gates of the building site, Xander groaned when he realised that he hadn´t taken notice of any of the numerous warehouses and derelict houses he had passed on the way to work. He had wanted to see if any were suitable for Spike once the vampire moved out of the basement. Security guard greeted with a smile, Xander stood still with both arms held out while he was patted down, the guard checking for any weapons. Once pronounced weapon free, he signed the roster and headed down to the mobile lunchroom, grinning at his workmates as they good–naturedly yelled at him to get his lazy arse back to work. Lunchroom entered, all thoughts of Spike were placed firmly in the back of his mind as Xander made himself a coffee with two heaped spoons of instant and 4 sugars, filling the mug half way with milk before pouring in the hot water from the urn.

~No problem Pet, you just go and leave the ´manly´ man of a vampire all by his little ol´ self. ~

Snorting to himself at the wave of fear that washed over him as he watched the boy head out into the cold day, Spike sat in the armchair and gazed around the mould scented basement once again. With nothing holding his attention longer than five seconds, Spike grabbed the TV remote control from the floor as he realised that there wasn´t much to do apart from watch TV, and pointed it towards the blank box facing him. The on button pressed, the TV lit up into an old episode of Sally Jesse Raphael, crackling in response to the screech that was the bespectacled woman´s voice coming from the worn speakers. Fingers tapping on the scratchy material covering the armchair, Spike glanced at the kitchen clock and, seeing that it was only 7.21 in the morning, he tried to think of the various places in and around Sunnydale that he was now barred from that he could have once claimed sanctuary in. An impressive list built in his mind as Spike wondered if the Watcher would consider having him back until Spike´s continual feelings of despair and fear started to subside.

~ Bathtub might be a nice change from that cunt of a bed the Whelp has, bloody thing has springs pokin´ every which where... no wonder the boy got it so cheap. Oh, and by the way... I, William the Bloody, do *not* have feelings of f´n despair! ~

Yes, yes you do, Spike´s inner voice whispered to him, forcing the vampire to acknowledge that he did indeed fear for his safety and as such, Spike wondered what the hell was going to convince Xander to let him stay. Could always give him a blowjob every now and again, mused Spike, as he recalled the state of constant arousal Xander seemed to be in since giving the ex–demon bint the flick. After all, f´n expert on that now aren´t I just? he mused to himself, even as he screwed up his face in distaste. No bloody way was he going *anywhere* near Xander´s cock. The boy desperately needed a good wank as far as Spike was concerned, even as he knew that Xander was more than likely put off from giving himself some relief by Spike´s presence, only because Xander knew that Spike would know the instant Xander had given in. Just another reason the kid wants me gone I ´spose, Spike thought. Launching himself out of the armchair and towards the kitchen, Spike tried to walk normally with both his ankles taking an even weight. With a small stumble as he tried to do so, he shifted his weight back onto his right side and continued his way to the kitchenette´s sink.

~ Ooooooohhhhh, look at the tame, domesticated vampire! Quick, roll right up and see the freak as it does the dishes. That´s right, folks, the only one living in captivity you say? Nay, not in captivity but living with a human by choice! ~

The bitter thought spewing forth even as he reached underneath the sink for the dishwashing liquid, Spike smiled slightly to himself that if Dru could only see him now, it would definitely seal her decision that she was right to leave him.

~ Of course, a great steaming pile of Fungus Demon would always win hand´s down against Billy Boy~

Thinking that he could still do dishes better than the green furry prick that Dru had chosen over him, Spike put the plug underneath the teetering tower of plates and bowls in the sink and turned the hot water on. A small amount of liquid squeezed into the steaming water, he knew from having watched the boy do the same thing from his bed in the first few days of staying in the basement that he had put just the right amount into the sink to wash the dishes.

~Christ, I can´t believe it has come down to this. How bloody stupid and pathetic am I?~

Head shaken as he turned off the water before the sink overflowed, Spike plunged his hands into the hot water, wincing at how his skin instantly began to burn. As he idly listened to the studio audience roaring in laughter to something the show´s host had said on TV, Spike started to wash the numerous pieces of cutlery that littered the bottom of the shallow sink even as he tried not to think of the little tremors of panic that were running along his body. Xander had only really left Spike alone a few times since being found and brought back to the basement, even then, none had been over one or two hours while Xander was at a Scooby Meeting or getting some more groceries, videos and blood. Spike knew that he had grown used to having the boy being almost constantly around him, providing a barrier from the outside world that Spike was more than happy to hide behind for the time being. He gave a strangled moan of embarrassment as he remembered clutching at Xander´s larger hand as they had both settled down to go back to sleep after Spike had had the monstrous nightmare only a few nights ago. Hands paused mid wash of a teaspoon, Spike screwed his eyes shut, his embarrassment growing as he found he couldn´t deny how much safer he had felt when touching Xander.

~ Thank f´n hell Harris was too tired to know it was me. Big girl, that´s what I am. No doubt about it then, looks like I´m turnin´ into the Poof! ~

Knowing that even with the do–gooder of a soul, his Sire would never have needed to feel the touch of another person, no matter *what* he had gone through, Spike realised that it had felt good to touch the boy, his own bit of protection from Riley and mates. With an uneasy, self–depreciating grin on his face, Spike couldn´t help but remember the loss he had felt when he had woken up later the next day and gently removed his hand before a still snoring Xander had woken up.

~ Christ Almighty, I´m over a hundred years old and I can´t believe I´m lookin´ for a bit of comfort in a boy that´s only just finishin´ his second decade in life! ~

Shoulders shrugged as his embarrassment was tinged with slight warmth that he felt all the way down in the pit of his stomach, the vampire finished shoving wet crockery into the large dish drainer and pulled the plug. Hands wiped on the tea towel hanging from one of the drawer handles, Spike made his awkward way back to the TV.

From the earliest memory he could dredge up from his 27 years as a human, Spike had always hated being alone and he was really growing to detest the gnawing feeling in his stomach at the thought of the boy not coming home at all. As stupid as the whole idea of Xander not coming back to his own home was, Spike had that ´what if...´ kind of thought tickling at the back of his mind. When he had been a human, he had always gone out of his way to make sure that at least someone was with him at all times, the only exception had been when he was doing the breaking and entering that he had been famous for in the murky criminal circles he had lived in. Settling into the uncomfortable chair, he watched a car ad state that only HP Premium Motor Oil would do the trick, the bright colours and harsh sounds drawing Spike´s attention once more. After some time, Spike´s stomach started to growl in hunger and, looking at the kitchen clock, he was amazed to see that it was after 2pm. As he stood to make his way back to the fridge and grab some lunch, Spike felt the heavy roll of thunder shake the house, the almost deafening crack of lightening signalling the beginning of the major storm that had been threatening to grace Sunnydale with its presence all day.

The fridge door open, Spike leaned against the side as he listened to the low howl outside as the wind ushered the storm into full force. Blood bag grabbed from the dwindling stock on the middle shelf, he wondered how the Whelp would be able to do his job in such foul weather.

Xander finished shoving his change into his wallet, placing it back into his pocket and gathering up his numerous plastic bags as went through the list of purchases in his head, wondering if he had forgotten something that Spike might need later on. Checking the docket, Xander frowned at how much everything had cost him, thanking God that his workmates had unknowingly helped prepare a nasty shit head of a vampire for the big move out of Xander´s basement.

Cringing in embarrassment, Xander couldn´t help but recall how humiliating it had been when most of the work crew had surrounded him during lunch, all smiling and nudging at one another while staring at him. For more than a few moments, Xander had been convinced that he was about to be a victim of workplace bullying or a practical joke until Barney, head of Xander´s work crew, had handed him a bulging white envelope. The envelope taken with a nervous laugh, Xander had taken in how eager everyone was to open it. So, not saying a word, he had opened the packet only to feel faint as he had seen the numerous bank notes poking out of the envelope.

The edges of the notes played with, Xander had looked questioningly at his friends before asking the towering, balding Barney, why. Everyone had laughed at that, and comments thrown around about how they all knew Xander wasn´t the smartest kid in the world before Barney had told Xander that a few of the other guys and himself had put in some money each to make up a bit towards the two week´s wages Xander had lost. The pot–bellied leader had been impressed when the construction boss had told him why Xander wouldn´t be in for a few weeks. Speechless, Xander had watched the other guys nod their heads at Barney´s words as he was told that he was a good kid to forgo his wages in order to take care of his sick mother, unlike so many little shits that had worked for the company over the years. The money, all $217.32, hadn´t been anywhere near even one week´s wage, but Xander hadn´t been about to tell the older men that.

Instead, Xander thanked them all in nervous fear of what could happen if they really found out just what he had been up to in his missed weeks off work, while the men had taken turns in slapping him on the back and telling him that they wished more youngsters were as unselfish as he had shown himself to be. Realising that there was something to be said for White Knight Syndrome, Xander had started to walk back to where he was concreting the second story floor when the skies had opened up with a vengeance. The rain, combined with a wind that was steadily picking up in speed and strength, made it impossible for any work to continue and once everything had been covered in plastic tarps, the boss had declared that everyone could go home until the next morning. Excited by having an afternoon off all to himself, Xander had accepted a lift to the Sunnydale Mall from one of the site´s carpenters. Chatting all the way about little things, Xander had been unable to stop a blush when he explained that his uncle was now able to take care of his mother. Feeling his ears burn at remembering the lies that had come so easily to him, Xander continued to walk through the closing Mall as he thought about his recent purchases.

He hoped that he had picked the right size t–shirts and jeans for Spike. If not, he had been assured by the sales lady that he could always bring them back for an exchange. Yeah, right, he snorted to himself. Spike had legs so he would be the one doing the taking back and exchanging, although Xander was sure that if it was left up to Spike, the vampire would just steal what he needed while handing over the ill–fitting goods for a full refund, and Xander would never get a single dime back. Still, even with the thought that it was a real possibility in the future, Xander knew that no matter what he felt for Spike, the vampire couldn´t continue wearing Xander´s clothes as everything was way too big for his slender frame. With the thought that he would like to have his boxers at least belong only to him again, Xander had chosen two simple black t–shirts, a pair of black socks and a thick blue shirt to go over the t–shirts before he had needed help with finding the right size jeans and boots. The sales assistant who had helped him had been pretty dumb, in a ditzy way, but she had known what she was on about when it came to guessing the right size for Spike. Asking Spike´s height, Xander had indicated the vampire was only a few inches shorter but he couldn´t say for sure what Spike´s real height was. As the assistant had giggled at Spike´s name, Xander had gone on to tell her that Spike was considerably slimmer than he was, although fairly compact and muscular, Xander flushing at the assistant´s raised eyebrow.

Nodding, she had hmmmm´d at him and had gone off to rummage through the many pairs of jeans before Xander had stated that he would only buy black. After many minutes, a pair had been found that looked like they would fit Spike and together, Xander and the assistant had moved onto the shoe section. Not being able to afford anything too fancy, let alone a pair of genuine Doc Martens for Spike, Xander had eventually settled on a discounted pair of lace up work boots once he had been assured that if not right, they could be exchanged. Asked if his friend needed any underpants to go with his purchases, Xander had stared at her as he had felt his face burn with embarrassment. With a nod as he didn´t trust himself to do anything but squeak, he had followed the assistant towards the underwear department while wishing for the floor to swallow him. Just as he thought he had recovered, he had once again felt his face go red as he was questioned about what his friend would prefer; full boxers, half boxers, bikini, low slung, high cut or tighty whities, would Spike like cotton, synthetic, silk, or satin and what colour.

Recalling that the vampire had been wearing his overly large boxers for a couple of weeks now, Xander had stuttered that only black cotton full boxers would do. The girl had giggled at his request for black again, wondering out loud if his friend was a vampire. Xander had whipped his head around in all directions, heart pounding even as he had nervously laughed along with her; stating that his friend was just an unimaginative dresser. Explanation nodded at, she had then proceeded to lead him towards the checkout with two pairs of boxers clutched in her hand.

Looking at his watch again, Xander stepped up his pace and headed through the outer doors of the Mall. He had been almost ready to weep with sincere gratitude when he had learnt that Wal–Mart was having a pre December 15% off everything sale so that they could make room for all the Christmas stock from overseas. All his purchases had come to much less than he had expected, but he was still going to ask Giles, Willow and Tara if they could put in towards the cost of Spike´s new clothing. He wasn´t going to bother asking Buffy or Riley, as he knew that they wouldn´t even consider clothing a necessity for the recovering vampire. Seeing that it was almost 6.30 pm, he hurried towards home while trying to shelter from the heavy rain by jogging under the trees that overhung the slick footpath.

Ten minutes later...

Running towards his house, Xander did his best to shelter from the heavy downpour of rain by keeping close to the trees lining Sunnydale´s sidewalks all the while concentrating on not slipping on the slick footpath. Hunched over and with one arm thrown over his head in a useless attempt to try to keep himself dry, Xander took no notice of what was going on around, desperate to get home, have a shower and get into some dry clothing. Already wondering if he would get even a simple nod of thanks from Spike for all his effort, Xander ran smack bang into the one person that he really didn´t want to see. Not on what had been a fairly good day... actually, not ever if he could help it.

Fucking wishful thinking though, isn´t it? Xander muttered under his breath. Forcing himself to smile, he took a deep breath. "Anya? Sorry."

"Xander. And no, I don´t think you are sorry," snapped Anya, glaring at a soaking wet Xander from underneath her umbrella. Brushing a minute speck of dirt from her sweater, her voice was coloured with annoyance as she went on. "Why are you always so clumsy, Xander? Can´t you ever just look where you´re going or, being a male, can´t you use the eyes in your head? Is your domestic blindness spilling over into your everyday life?"

Teeth gritted as his smile tightened, Xander willed himself not to lose his temper, knowing that if he did, Anya would just continue to make his life as close to hell as she could. Just as she had from the moment Xander had carefully told her that their relationship was over. Xander had even been nice about it, taking the good old tried and true line of, ´No, it´s not you, it´s me,´ with a side helping of, ´Can we still be friends?´. Although Xander had been almost paralysed with fear while talking to Anya, terrified that she might call upon one of her old vengeance demon friends in order to give Xander a good ´talking to´, everything had worked out fine. Sort of. Much to Xander´s dismay and his friends´ amusement, Anya was determined to win her man back, alternating between the belief that Xander had just made a mistake and would come to his senses any day soon, and the theory that Xander was nothing more than a typical pig of a male who only existed so that he could be graced with her utter contempt. Some days, it was a weird mixture of both. Now, free from the clinging confines of the relationship, Xander was often amazed at how desperate for sex and a steady girlfriend he had to have been to even consider getting together with Anya; sometimes just having to look at her was enough to annoy him. Still, Xander didn´t want to do anything that pissed off someone who still carried a fair heft of respect in the demon world. With the very real possibility that Anya could have someone who owed her a favour castrate him in a blink of an eye, Xander continued to smile at his ex–girlfriend. "I´m sorry, really I am. I´ll be more careful in the future, OK?"

"Why weren´t you at home? It´s raining and I know that you don´t work when it´s raining, so you should have been home. I just came from your hovel and there was no answer to the door–knocking thing that you like me to do. Xander, I *knocked* for you and waited. Waited in the rain for you to open the door and let me in. And you didn´t. Now I´m sniffly and I think I´m getting a cold," said Anya, sniffling as if to prove her point even as she eyed off the numerous bags that Xander had in his hands. "You have bags in your hand, are they presents for me? Are you going to do the right thing and apologise for dumping me? I told Buffy and Willow that you would. Oh, Wal–Mart. God, Xander, couldn´t you get me a present from a better place? Don´t you feel that, after all you´ve put me through, I deserve something more expensive?"

´Oh My God, I was *truly* thinking with my dick when I dated her! Did I have selective hearing while we went out, how could I *not* have noticed the way she spoke to me? Hang on, I think I did but I was always too... what´s the word, *erect* to care.´ Xander was surprised that he didn´t actually feel shocked at Anya´s demands. He took another look at his ex–girlfriend, suppressing a small shudder as her whole expression just dared him to tell her that no, there wasn´t a present for her in one of the many bags from the obviously white trash shopping heaven of Wal–Mart. Unable to hold back a disbelieving gasp, Xander shook his head.

"Ahhh, hate to disappoint you, Ahn, but these *Wal–Mart* bags are full of clothes for Spike, well, one bag has his new boots as well. You know, new clothes for him because, trust me, he ain´t gonna still wear mine once he´s moved out."

"So, you bought someone else a present instead of me, your girlfriend. You would rather spend money on a retarded vampire than buy me the present you *owe* me for dumping me?"

"Shit, Anya, you´re my *ex–girlfriend* so that means there will be no more presents for you, not now and most definitely not in the future! Why can´t you just get it through your thick skull that I don´t want to go out with you anymore?" Xander yelled, his previous caution thrown to the wind as his temper got the better of him. With one hard shove, the infuriated youth pushed Anya to one side as he stomped towards his house. The pelting rain totally forgotten in his anger, Xander stopped after a few paces and turned around to face the shocked girl again as he spoke. "How about you do me a favour, leave me alone? You know how to do that, right... or do I have to *teach* you what the proper human etiquette is in leaving people alone? That means no more turning up on my doorstep at all hours of the day and night, you don´t ring me at home or at work, and that also means you don´t follow me around in the supermarket or any other public place, OK? Oh, and just because I happen to glance over at you during a meeting or ask if you want a coffee, it doesn´t mean I want you back. Actually, how about you do everyone a favour and just fuck off out of town, you stupid BITCH!"

Speechless, Anya watched open–mouthed as Xander whirled around and continued down the street, sure that everyone in the houses nearest to her had heard his words. Never in the time she had known Xander had she ever heard such anger in his voice, and Xander had most certainly never touched her with even a hint of violence. Mouth closed, she swallowed heavily as she realised that Willow had been right when she had told Anya that Xander sometimes had a hard time controlling his temper. Anya has scoffed at the red haired witch, laughing when Willow had made an off hand remark about how vicious Xander could get when pushed. Anya had badgered a reluctant Willow to tell her more, listening in disbelief when Willow had told her of all the times she had heard Xander fighting with his parents and his Uncle Rory, giving as good as he got, both verbally and physically. Willow´s voice had dropped to an embarrassed whisper when she had told Anya of how she had sometimes gone to visit Xander only to walk back home after listening to Xander vent his rage around the basement, his words punctuated by loud crashes and the sound of things smashing. Even as she had taken Willow´s word with the proverbial grain of salt, choosing to believe that Xander´s best friend was jealous of the time he was spending with her and was trying to make things difficult for the new relationship, Anya had watched Xander like a hawk all the time that they had gone out together, always on the look out to see if his best friend was right and Xander would start to display the same temper that both his uncle and father seemed to have. As the weeks and months had gone by, Anya had been sure that her status as an ex–vengeance demon had been what kept Xander pinned firmly underneath her thumb, the youth never showing one inkling that he was anything like his parents. That is, until today.

As she watched Xander disappear around the corner, Anya turned slowly and started walking up the street again, thinking that maybe Xander had actually done her a favour and that she was lucky to get out of the relationship before it developed into the continual screaming match that was his parents´ marriage.

Striding down the street towards his house and his pleasantly damp basement, Xander fumed with anger at the audacity Anya had shown towards him. How dare she fucking talk to *him* like that, he thought to himself. What gives her the right to treat him like a piece of shit scraped from a toilet? There was no chance in hell that he was going to be like his mother and take it from all sides, even if she did give back as good as she usually got. Almost spitting in rage as he thought of all the times Anya had humiliated him in public, both accidentally and on purpose, Xander´s face was a grim mask of cold fury.

Unconsciously, his fists repeatedly clenched and unclenched as he felt himself slip into one of his rare, black moods. His house reached, Xander went straight to the leaning letterbox and yanked it open. Seeing that it was empty, he kicked at it until the wooden mast split and fell on the ground with a noisy clatter. Fucking arseholes, I bet they stole my mail again, thought Xander as he saw that his parents and uncle were out.

"Thank fuck for that!" he growled to himself, knowing full well that in the rage he was steadily working himself into thanks to his ex–orgasm buddy, he wouldn´t have hesitated in hitting back if his father or uncle had decided to go for him as they both liked to do. Hitting back would only earn him a more harsh beating from either of the two larger men, and on a rarer occasion, sometimes both as they double–teamed him. With that very unpleasant possibility in mind, Xander felt his mind cloud over, completing the transition from his normal everyday goofy self into one of the rages that he had inherited from the paternal side of the family.

The basement door unlocked in a flurry of curses, Xander kicked it open when the key finally turned in the rusty lock and slammed on the light for the stairs, breathing harshly as he let his eyes get used to the dull light of the low wattage bulb. As he went to take the first step down the creaky stairs, a plastic bag crinkled in his hand, the noise only serving to remind him who was also to blame for his current foul mood. In one deceptively lazy gesture, he flung the bags from the top of the stairs, not caring as the clothing spilled from the bags midair, landing in a messy heap beside the bed. A sneer firmly on his face, Xander thumped slowly down the stairs, his fists clenched as he looked around the small room for the one person he could currently work his frustration out on. "Spikey, where are you?"

"Come out... come out, wherever you are?" Xander sang out into the cold air, his tone of voice radiating all too clearly the anger that was driving his actions. "Where are you, you fucking prick?"

With a low growl as he stalked around the small room looking for the vampire, Xander tossed piles of clothing around the floor, kicking at the bookshelves before giving the double bed a solid kick on one side. Hearing a soft gasp coming from underneath the bed, Xander froze for a moment, a cold smile twisting over his features as he lifted one end of the bed and dragged it to the side, slowly revealing a crying vampire that was gently rocking himself even as he curled up on the floor. Bed dropped with a dull thud, Xander gave a short bark of laughter as Spike flinched at the sound. Staring down at the vampire, Xander felt his anger grow even more as he noted that Spike was wearing one of his favourite shirts and grey track pants. His ripped and torn favourite shirt. Obviously, Spike had struggled to fit under the bed, his *cost more than a three week food allowance* light blue paisley shirt with fake mother of pearl buttons paying the price. Actually, it wasn´t one of his favourite shirts, it was his *ultimate* favourite; one that he only wore out on the rare occasions he had been able to afford to take Anya out to a proper sit down dinner that involved menus and a waiter, not one of the usual pizza barns or fried chicken takeout dinners eaten on the side of the street kerb a few paces from the drive through window. Eyes closed for a moment, Xander breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled as tried to calm himself enough to speak. "Oh... you are *so* gonna pay for ripping that shirt. I... I don´t even know *where* to even start telling you just how much you owe me, and trust me, it´s big time! Hey... hey, you listening?"

Xander opened his eyes, sneering once more as the vampire´s eyes snapped open, Spike looking up at him with a fearful expression on his face. He stood motionless, his anger roiling off him in heated waves as he watched Spike flinch again, this time from Xander´s words. Slowly, Xander let his gaze follow Spike, when after a few false starts, the demon crawled over towards the bed, trying in jerky movements to fit back underneath. It was the sharp sound of ripping material that allowed Xander to lunge towards Spike, Xander leaning down and grabbing hard at one bony, pale ankle. With a series of hard tugs, Xander dragged a thrashing Spike out from under the bed, across the pile of new clothing and into the middle of the basement. Dropping the ankle with a thump, Xander stood over Spike, legs spread on either side of the panting and shaking vampire. "You think I can wear my shirt out again?"

The irate youth clenched his teeth, his sneer growing as he heard Spike start sobbing at his question, Spike giving a soft shake of his head in answer. "Yeah, that would be a big fat ´no´ then, wouldn´t it... hmmmm? No, you don´t shake your head, that was a question that you have to *n–o–d* your head to... isn´t that right? Yes, wow... I think you´re getting the hang of this nodding and shaking your head at the appropriate questions deal, don´t you? Another nod, see... sooo easy!"

Patting gently at the vampire´s bleached curls as one would pat an obedient dog, Xander paused in his questioning for a moment only to air a cold laugh as he thought about how to word his next question. "Ok, now for the big one. How are you gonna pay me back for my now unwearable shirt? A shrug... hmphf. You know, that answer just ain´t gonna cut it. Jesus, aren´t you just a little bit old for crying, Spikey?"

"You know what you are, Spike? What, no backchat, no ´get stuffed, Mate´?" Kneeling down so that he was sitting firmly on the Spike´s lower abdomen, Xander leant forward, putting his face only a few inches from Spike´s own. "You are a piece of shit. You are *nothing*. Not a Master Vampire, not the Big Bad... not even a mouthy little demon any more."

"You are a lush. All you do... in fact, all you´ve *ever* done, is take... take... take. Never given anything for free... we always had to pay the price, didn´t we? Always had to be something in it for you, no matter *what* it was. You couldn´t give a shit if all of us got killed as long as you got what you wanted... that´s right, isn´t it? Every time you looked at me... Giles... Willow, hell, even Buffy.. you were just wondering how much blood or money you could rip us off for or what we had that you could steal and sell for drinking money. Number one, that´s all you ever think about, isn´t it? How stupid of me... you´re a *vampire*... that type of shit is normal for you. Guess what?" Laughing as he watched Spike´s Adam´s apple bob as the vampire swallowed convulsively, Xander reached out a hand and stroked lightly across Spike´s throat, moved his hand to trace a finger gently along a tear filled eye. As he listened to Spike´s strangled grunts intertwined with rasping pants, he grinned ferally. "What, not even going to try and guess? Oh, come on, that´s really... how do you always say it... really unsporting of you! Oh, but how stupid am I... the *half wit* of a pizza delivery *boy*, God´s gift to the donut shops... retardo army commando junior... I forgot.. you can´t talk any more, can you?"

"You know, I bet you´re faking this... hmmmmm?" sneered Xander, laughter ringing out into the chilly basement as Spike shook his head furiously, tears sliding down the pale cheeks even as Spike raised his hands and started pushing at him to get off. In a swift movement that caused Spike to utter a strangled shriek, Xander grasped the thin wrists tightly in his hands and stared coldly at the shaking vampire. "I think all this, "pity me, I´m a poor little vamp who can´t talk any more´ is just some bullshit you´re pulling to stay here. You want to stay here... all *safe and protected*... don´t you? How pathetic are you... a Master Vampire hiding behind a lowly timber jockey? No... no, you´re not going anywhere... stop struggling. Don´t try to deny it, I felt you grab onto my hand that night... felt your clammy fingers around mine."

"We both fell asleep holding hands with each other," Xander cooed in a deceptively sickly sweet voice, momentarily letting go of one of Spike´s wrists to brush away the tears trailing down the vampire´s face. "Seriously, Spike, what is this... the six thousandth time that you´ve cried since invading my home, are you *ever* gonna stop? Is that all you can do... shrug? No nodding or anything else... just a shrug and a filthy fucking snot filled sniffle?"

As Spike shrugged again, Xander leant forward a little more, his crotch grinding against Spike´s with every movement. Both of Spike´s wrists grasped again and pinned to the floor, Xander stared at the vampire underneath him, oblivious to the fact that he was breathing more heavily each time a movement from either himself or Spike caused their crotches to rub against each other. Content to just sit for a moment as his anger continued to billow around him, Xander found himself unable to stop grinning as he began to speak again. "So? Don´t you even dare shrug again, you pathetic piece of shit. Time for *you* to start figurin´ outta way to start repa–"

His words were cut off as he found himself flying through the air and crashing heavily against the far wall of the small basement, his head and right shoulder taking most of the impact. Head spinning as pain skittered from his skull and down through his neck and spine, Xander was only dimly aware that he wasn´t the only one shrieking in pain and clutching at their head. "Ahh... ahh... ahhhhhh! Jesus... Fuckin´... bloody... bloodyfuckingbastard. Bastard. *YOU*... you *fucking ungrateful*..."

A sobbed grunt and the crinkling of plastic bags forced Xander to open his eyes and turn his head towards the sounds coming from over by the bed, blinking furiously as a few tears of pain welled in his eyes. As blurry as his vision was, there was no mistaking the sight of Spike rising to his feet, wobbling unsteadily for a brief moment. One hand still rubbing at his head, Xander watched Spike do the same even as the vampire made his way slowly to the basement steps. Xander coughed roughly, the sound causing Spike to pause on the bottom step before taking the first step. "Oh, and where would *you* be going then?"

"You had enough of staying at Casa Harris?" snapped Xander, struggling to his feet even as the basement swam before his eyes. He coughed again as he saw that Spike stood motionless at the top of the staircase, staring at the door. With a shake of his head, Xander made his way towards the stairs, treading his way up towards Spike in slow, calculated movements, one hand trailing along the basement wall for support. Reaching the still vampire, Xander ignored the way Spike flinched from him as Xander wrapped his hand around Spike´s upper arm.

"You wanna leave, is that it?" prompted Xander, giving Spike a shake when, after a few moments, no answer was forthcoming. At Spike´s shrug, Xander couldn´t help but laugh, shaking Spike again as he admonished the vampire for shrugging once more. "What did I tell you? Don´t you *dare* shrug again. You that stupid that you forgot in less than a minute? Tell you what..."

Tightening his grip on Spike´s upper arm, Xander reached up, and with his free hand, smoothed down the unruly bleached blond hair of the shaking demon. As he went on, Xander punctuated each word by continuing to shake Spike. "How about if I make up your mind for you... I mean, if you can´t, suppose I´ll have to, won´t I? Hey, waky–wakies, Spike, asking you a question here. So, would that be a yes or a no? A shrug... oh, you fucker!"

Xander twisted his hand through the soft hair, pressing Spike´s head against the basement door with all his strength, Spike´s throaty grunts of protest only serving to fan the flames of Xander´s black rage. Letting go of Spike´s upper arm, he moulded himself to Spike´s back, unconsciously rubbing his crotch against Spike´s buttocks, one hand resting on the door knob while the other was still threaded through the short hair. In a low, cold voice, Xander aired his decision. "You know, I think it´s for the best if you leave. Now!"

In one swift movement, Xander turned the knob on the door and dragged Spike far enough back so that a gust of cold night air rushed into the tiny basement. "You wanna take your chances out there... alone and ripe for the picking for whatever or whoever did you in the first time, huh? You know what, my guess is that you wanna stay here because you *know* they´re just gonna come back for seconds and *this* time, you won´t be left in the land of the living... well, figuratively that is."

Both arms wrapped around Spike as the vampire struggled to get free from his grasp without hurting the both of them, Xander manoeuvred himself until, with a strangled squeal of pain from Spike, Xander had Spike´s bottom lip within his tight grasp, fingernails digging into the tender flesh of Spike´s mouth. Fending off Spike´s hands as they batted uselessly at his mouth, Xander dragged Spike down the creaking stairs, snapping at the vampire to ´cut his shit out´ when Spike dry retched in panic. "You don´t, do you, you don´t wanna take that chance? Nooooo, oh no, poor widdle vampy–wampy can´t face the horrible nasty world out there all alone. You wanna stay here all safe and cosy. You wanna *hide* behind me, *you* want *me* to protect you, don´t you?"

Spike was yanked off the bottom step and hauled into the middle of the basement, where Xander shoved Spike onto his knees. Standing over the smaller man, Xander sneered as Spike tried to pull Xander´s fingers from his mouth. Tightening his grasp, Xander´s fingernails cut into Spike´s lip, causing the vampire to tug harder at the fingers. "What, don´t you want my fingers in your mouth... liked them before, but right now, that doesn´t matter, does it? A shake, no... that´s right. What *does* matter, is that you want to stay here... stay with *me*... don´t you?"

"DON´T YOU!" screamed Xander, tiny droplets of spittle flying onto Spike´s face as he forced Spike to nod to his words, jerking Spike´s head up and down via his vicious grip on Spike´s bottom lip. Xander paid no attention to the tears that were running off Spike´s chin and trickling down his arm. Leaning down, Xander shoved his face into Spike´s, his sneer growing when Spike choked on a whine. "And you know what? Because I´m such a *nice* guy, white–fucking–knight through and through, the all round good guy who can *always* be relied upon to do the right thing... I´m gonna give you want you want."

Abruptly letting go of Spike´s lip, Xander straightened up and stepped back a pace. Continuing to sneer at the vampire on the floor, he went on. "Yup, you get to hide behind me all you like but... bu–... hey, *where* the fuck do you think you´re going *this* time huh?"

Open mouthed at Spike´s audacity, the outraged youth watched almost unbelievingly as Spike slowly crawled away from him, past the shifted bed and headed for the furthest corner of the basement. "Nahnahanahnah... you don´t just turn your back on me whenever you want to. Get your arse back here. Now."

Pure anger marring his words, Xander once again demanded for Spike to get back to where he was standing even as the vampire pressed himself in close to the bare basement wall, Spike leaning his head against the wall and wiping at his eyes every so often as Xander looked on. "What do I have to do, count to three for you to get yourself back here? Spike, get here *now*!"

"Fine. Leave then, go on... you know where the door is. Go. Go on, go find your buddies. Go and find all your friends, all the others who want to let you stay with them," said Xander, unable to hold back his laughter when Spike let out a high pitched whine, the vampire retching and shaking his head to Xander´s words. "Ahhhh. See, that wasn´t too hard was it, you *do* want to stay here. Good. Now, get here... we got rules to go over if you´re gonna live here."

"Spike, I mean it. Get. Your. Arse. Back. Here. NOW!" Xander snarled, fists clenching as he took a step towards where Spike was. "Don´t make me come over there, because seriously, if you do... you are *so* gonna regret it. Oh, while I´m asking, stop those fucking useless tears as well."

Mentally counting, Xander reached ten with Spike still curled in the corner. Eye´s closed, he raised his face to the ceiling and stood still for a moment, deep breaths taken in an effort not to just run over and lay into the vampire. "Oh man, I gave you a chance. I did, but did you take it? Did you take what was good for you? Oh no. Fucking stupid piece of shit that you are. Don´t worry, *I´ll* come over to you and you know what? I really wanna tell you to run now?"

His face as black as thunder and with an fury that matched, Xander moved faster than he ever had before, reaching Spike in less time that it took to draw a breath. One hand full of Spike´s hair and the other wrapped tightly around a pale throat, Xander both lifted and tugged Spike away from the wall, fighting to hold onto the shrieking, struggling vampire as he slowly hauled Spike back towards the centre of the basement. Suddenly, Xander felt himself being jerked backwards as an unexpected weight stopped his progress, almost ripping Spike from his grasp. Barely paying any attention to the strangled coughs coming from Spike as he re–adjusted his grip on Spike´s throat, Xander turned to see what was dragging him down, only to grin ferally as he saw that Spike had his legs wrapped around one end of the double bed. "Let go."

"Oh yeah, you *will* let go. Trust me," laughed Xander as a tiny shake of Spike´s head caught his attention. As Spike shook his head again and started to peel Xander´s hand from around his throat, Xander made hard, circular motions with the hand twisted through Spike´s hair, the actions causing Spike to hiss in pain. "I´ll count to three, retard, and you´ll do the right thing and let go. One... two... three!"

Spike thrown to the floor in one quick movement, Xander lifted his foot and kicked with all his might at one of Spike´s legs, his steel capped work boot adding strength to his cruelty. Even as Spike yelped with pain from the force of the kick, Xander continued to kick at the vampire as hard as he could. "What the hell is wrong with you? I tell you to do something, you do it. No questions asked, none of your shit. Just do it. Rules, Spike, this is one of them. You do what I want you to do. Every time. You want to stay here, don´t you... we both know you do, but guess what? You can´t have it both ways, Spike. You can´t stay here and fuck´n ignore me then expect me to watch out for you. Expect me to clothe you, feed you, and share my bed with you. You stay here, it´s by my rules... you got that, or do you need a ´lesson´ to be able to get that through your thick skull? Huh, do you need me to teach you like I always had to teach Anya... give you fucking ´lessons´ on the correct social etiquette? Nah, don´t have to do that, do I? Not with you, nope... old enough aren´t you... but one thing´s for sure, you need to be taught who the boss is around here."

CRACK!

CRUNCH!

All through his little speech, Xander´s words were punctuated with kicks at whatever part of Spike´s body he could bring his foot down upon. Ribs, upper body, legs, arms, it didn´t concern Xander. Neither did the choked grunts of agony each time Xander´s hard boot met with Spike´s flesh. The only thing that mattered to Xander right at that moment was making Spike let go of the double bed.

BANG!

THUMP!

CRACK!

Xander´s foot connected with Spike´s kneecap hard enough to jar his back. Biting back a groan of pain as he felt his back threaten to spasm, Xander instead panted with effort as he stood over Spike, one solid boot grinding into the vampire´s Adam´s apple. "You aren´t the boss any more, Spike. Never were, even as much as you like to ´lord´ it over the others and me. You got that? What... can´t hear you, Spike?"

"Heeeeelooooo? Nope, not hearing anything from anyone worth considering," Xander spat brightly, one hand cupped around his ear as he made a show of trying to hear whatever Spike was mouthing up at him. Shifting his weight back and forth on Spike´s throat, Xander caused Spike to renew his struggles to shift Xander´s foot from his throat. "Uh–uh. Only one thing makes me move and no, it´s not you throwing me across the room again because, if you do... you know I´m not gonna stake you, don´t you... I´m just gonna personally drive you back to your crypt?"

As obviously difficult as it was for Spike to nod, Xander plastered a half smile on his face when Spike moved his head in a slight ´yes´ gesture as he let his legs (fall) from around the bed frame to the floor with a thud. His smile growing a fraction colder, Xander complied grudgingly with Spike´s wishes when he felt the vampire lift his foot and took his foot off Spike´s throat, instead, nudging none too gently at Spike´s head. "Shut the tears up, I´m not interested. Get up."

Xander stood back a pace in order to allow Spike room to get to his feet and watched as the sobbing vampire rose slowly to his feet, Spike wiping at the tears that ran down his face. With one stride, Xander moulded himself to Spike´s side, roughly pulling Spike against him when Spike shied away from him. Giving Spike a hard shake, Xander snapped at Spike to ´stop it´, telling Spike that he hated it when Spike pulled away from him.

"Shut up. Stop crying, Christ... you are such a cry baby, Spike," said Xander with a laugh, poking Spike in the shoulder every few moments as he belittled Spike for crying. After a particularly hard poke caused Spike to stumble backwards, Xander followed Spike as he continued to bodily shove at the vampire until they were both in the far corner of the basement again. With Spike cringing away from him, his pale face leaning against the damp basement wall, Xander shoved his face in close to Spike´s. "Do I really have to ask you again to stop crying?"

At Spike´s choked sob, Xander smiled grimly as he watched Spike sniffle wetly, grinding at his eyes as he wiped shaking hands across his face. Xander paid no attention to Spike´s low whine as he placed his mouth next to Spike´s ear, false concern for Spike´s wellbeing threading its way through his words.

"Better... but still not good enough, do you wanna try a little harder?" said Xander, reaching up with one hand and firmly wiping at the few tears that gathered at the corner of Spike´s twitching mouth. Running a finger along Spike´s swollen and bruised bottom lip, Xander tsk´d at Spike´s flinch, softly whispering for Spike not to do it again as it was just another little thing that he hated before asking Spike if his lip hurt. Xander´s smile broadened a fraction as Spike swallowed heavily, a hesitant nod coming a moment later. Ignoring the squeal of pain that resounded through the tiny basement as he grasped and then twisted at Spike´s bottom lip, Xander couldn´t help but sneer once more as Spike tried in vain to get Xander to let go. Instead, Xander easily grasped one of Spike´s hands and bent back the slender fingers as far as they would go, once more eliciting a cry of pain from the vampire. "Shut the fuck up and list–..."

For the second time that evening, Xander´s words were cut off as he was unexpectedly spun around and slammed into the basement wall, the shock of his elbow smashing into the solid brick wrenching a surprised yelp from him even as he immediately grasped onto Spike in an effort to stop falling onto the ground. In a tussle of limbs and heavy grunts, they fell to the floor with Xander trying to pin Spike to the floor before the vampire had a chance to escape. Panting heavily, the winded youth managed to get to his feet after less than a minute of struggle with Spike. The vampire started crying heavily again as Xander twisted the fingers of one hand through the mussed bleached hair while digging the fingers of his other hand in the tender flesh of Spike´s armpit and hauling Spike to his knees. Letting go of Spike´s underarm, Xander slapped away the pale hands as they plucked at his fingers. Instead, Xander concentrated on forcing Spike´s head against the wall with a raised knee. Looking down as he trapped Spike´s head between the wall and his crotch, Xander opened his mouth to speak only to remain speechless as he saw the bulge in the front of his jeans and realised that he was half hard, the cool breath of the weeping vampire filtering through his work jeans doing nothing to help the matter. A heavy swallow and Xander was startled to find himself uttering a moan when Spike´s chin brushed against the front of his jeans. "Arsehole. I told you... told you not to throw me again... didn´t I? Huh, didn´t I? A nod, yeah... that´s right."

Xander stared down at Spike, the sneer firmly on his face as he watched the vampire´s tears soak into the dark blue denim of his work jeans. Xander knew that he had to give Spike a ´lesson´, show him once and for all who the boss was, and as he raked cold eyes over the vampire´s face, Xander found himself thinking back to a well hidden book he had found at Giles´ by accident a few month´s ago. Xander hadn´t meant to snoop, but he had been rummaging through the cupboard under the small vanity unity in Giles´ bathroom/toilet for a fresh roll of toilet paper when he had seen the corner of a battered tome poking out from under a box of economy sized baby wipes. He hadn´t been able to stop himself from smirking as he had quietly slipped the book from underneath the baby wipes, convinced that he had managed to stumble across the G–man´s porn stash. With a glance at the bathroom´s locked door, Xander had felt himself harden, his breath starting to get heavier as he had smoothed a hand over the old book and flipped open a page, hurriedly looking for old drawings and sepia photos of naughty schoolgirls and their strict, punishing headmistress and librarians. His search proved to be fruitless and he very nearly put the book back before wondering if Giles was more turned on by reading erotic stories than actual pictures. His smirk broadening, Xander had instead skimmed a few pages, searching for old–fashioned ´dirty´ words. He had been just about to give up when he had caught sight of the words, ´masturbate´ and ´penetration´ and with a quiet snicker, he had instantly searched for the start of the chapter. The chapter was entitled ´Adored´, and Xander had started reading with avid interest, his hard on growing with the expectation of reading a ´classic´.

However, he had only read a few paragraphs into the story when he realised that, although the book did indeed have many minutely detailed sexual encounters in it, they weren´t of the human kind. As much as he had wanted to close the book and shove it back into its hiding place, the desire to know what Giles´ must have found to his ´tastes´ in the book proved all too overwhelming. And so Xander sat transfixed by the words, turning page after page and not quite with him realising it, his cock getting harder the more he read about the vampire ritual called ´The Claiming´. A ritual in which vampires were able to Claim an Adored for five years, a literal slave that served their Claimant´s every wish and whim without choice until the five years were up. The only advantage for an Adored was that they were under the complete protection of the Claimant and as such, were kept from anything or anyone that could possibly harm them until the Claim expired. Unnoticed by Xander, his free hand had dropped into his lap, his fingers rubbing and pressing into his rock hard penis, causing him to breathe all the heavier. Finally, it was an eye witness testimony of a captured vampire describing how brutal and degrading it was to be the Adored in a Claiming ritual that had Xander moaning out loud with the need for proper skin–on–skin contact with his cock. Barely paying heed to the fact that both the captured vampire and his ´Claimant´ were male, Xander had continued to flip the pages while struggling to get his hard on out with one hand. Breaking eye contact with the book for a few moments so that he could gather up a handful of the baby wipes and carefully wrap them around the tip of his cock, Xander had felt himself shudder in pleasure at the first hard stroke of his cock. Once he had his rhythm going, he had flipped back a page so that he could re–read the first hand account of the Claiming ritual, this time reading furiously as he jerked himself off. He had almost lost his rhythm when the account was finished, desperately flipping forward to the next first hand account. This time, he had paused for a moment when he realised that, yet again, both vampires in the ritual were male, but as desperate as he was to finish, he pushed the issue to the back of his mind and jerked off while reading about a Claimant shoving their cock down an unwilling Adored´s throat. As he got to the part where the Adored was being ´persuaded´ to accept the Claim on them, with more than a little force, Xander grunted his completion into the wipes. Heart pounding and panting hard, he had slumped down hard upon the toilet seat, paying no attention to the creaking of the plastic seat as he had cleaned himself up. Flushing the baby wipes down the toilet, he had then splashed his face with water and washed his hands as he turned the rituals over and over in his mind.

His breathing returning to normal, Xander had re–read the Adored´s accounts of the rituals, flushing when he acknowledged that he had jerked off to reading about two men engaging in heavy non–consensual sex. Feeling the tips of his ears go red, he had flipped forward once again only to blush fully as he came across a section that featured the same ritual but this time, with female vampires. Still worn out, Xander´s cock had managed to twitch a little as he read the women´s first hand accounts. Obviously, from the well–thumbed pages of the women´s section of the book, Giles wasn´t averse to reading about the natural wonder that was all woman lovin´. Even with the knowledge that Giles wasn´t quite the eunuch that the rest of the Scoobies assumed him to be, Xander found it disturbing that he had not only read about vampires getting off, but that the vampires had been men and not only that, the male account had been way hotter than the women´s. However, the more he thought about what he had read, the more he had decided that he shouldn´t be all weirded out simply because, no matter what their actual physical attributes, vampires weren´t *real* people. More animals than anything else, and hadn´t the thought that he had jerked off to *animals* made Xander freak out even more. For days Xander had been unable to stop his mind from dragging up images of a certain video that he had borrowed from a co–worker at one of his many jobs a few years ago, ´Down the Farmyard´, an underground hardcore porno that had more to do with what lived in the farmyard than the busty young farm girls that Xander had been looking forward to getting acquainted with. Nor had he been able to stop himself from having more intense orgasms while manually relieving himself to memories of the forced sexual encounters that went hand in hand with the Claiming ritual. Something that he was still experiencing even months later.

His heart starting to pound even more and his breath quickened as the idea of *how* to prove who was boss to Spike suddenly became appealingly clear. Xander deliberately ground his crotch against Spike´s face even as the vampire weakly pushed at him to go away. All Xander had to do was bring the ´lesson´ down to Spike´s level. As violent as all the Adored´s stated the ritual to be, even blind Freddy wouldn´t be able to miss the intent behind Xander´s actions. With Spike´s head trapped between the wall and his crotch, Xander knew Spike would already have a fair idea of what was coming. There was no way the vampire could ignore the pheromones that Xander was sure were pouring off him.

"You can smell me, can´t you?" said Xander, his quiet words causing Spike to shudder, a low whine breaking his harsh panting momentarily. Xander couldn´t help but laugh when Spike started to push harder, Xander feeling the vampire´s hands shake as Spike tried to move his head away from the wall. He drew back, giving Spike an inch or two before slamming Spike´s head back into the wall with a raised knee, grinding the pale cheek into the rough basement wall. At the squeal of pain that ricocheted around the small room, Xander sneered as he watched fresh tears track their way down Spike´s face. "Don´t worry Spike, I´m just gonna give you what you want... okay? Well, you do everything right... and you can stay, but I´m telling you now... I tell you to do something... you don´t even answer back... you just fuckin´ do it... right?"

Releasing his grip on Spike´s hair, Xander tugged at his jeans´ zipper, ignoring Spike´s answering whine and tiny nod to his question. With a sneer plastered firmly on his face, he stared down into the wide blue eyes of the shaking vampire as he pushed his crotch into Spike´s face once more. "You know what ´The Claiming´ is, don´t you? ´Claimant´s´ and ´Adored´s´, you pretty familiar with those titles, right? Yeah, sure you are... how it´s done and everything. Hey, you know what to do."

k

Spike felt the rough brick wall scrape his face as he nodded again, his stomach lurching when he sniffled and was unable to stop his shaking from taking a turn for the worse as the boy´s dominant scent grew stronger. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Spike swallowed compulsively, lifting a hand to cup it around the hard bulge in Xander´s jeans. Slowly, Spike opened his eyes, glancing up at Xander before hesitantly squeezing Xander´s cock through the tight denim. With a small poke at Xander´s stomach, the vampire gestured to be allowed to move from his place against the wall. Approval given in a terse nod, the vampire wiped at his tears as he felt a tiny flicker of relief when Xander stepped back a few paces. Almost instantly, Spike sagged heavily against the wall, panting uncontrollably as he tried not to groan out loud as he felt the bruises from where Xander had kicked him throb more intensely. Leaning against the damp brick, Spike flinched at the sound of Xander´s zipper sliding down further. He knew what Xander wanted, he wasn´t stupid and it was only too obvious what the price was for being kept safe. Spike had been able to smell Xander´s arousal increase each time the boy had rubbed up against him. And he wasn´t naive enough to hope that it would only be one blowjob to ensure his safety, nor that it would only ever be blowjobs. Still, Spike could barely believe what was happening. He couldn´t understand *how* this particular Scooby could be so unlike his usual affable, smiling, eager–to–do–anything–for–anyone self, how he could be so... purely inhumane and demonic. Never in all the years he had existed had he ever thought he would be weighing up between the option of becoming a kept man, providing Xander Harris with a different type of stress relief than the youth was accustomed to, or leaving Sunnydale and taking his chances alone against five men who, *when* they found him again, wouldn´t hesitate once again to show Spike just what his true place was in the world before killing him.

Retching as his mind spun from the unenviable task of choosing between the two options, Spike was certain of two things. He was terrified of both options and he wanted to live. A movement from Xander caused Spike to look in the youth´s direction, the vampire choking on a whine as he took in the Alpha Male stance and clenched fists held stiffly by Xander´s sides. With a discreet sniff in the boy´s direction, he breathed in the bitter, offensive aroma of the pure rage that continued to exude from Xander. The same rage that he had been able to smell even before Xander had kicked open the basement door. Spike knew it shouldn´t come down to such shitty options, that he should just run up the steps and out into the night before Xander even had a chance to lunge at him again. Spike should just leave Sunnydale and move far away, to another country even and forget about ever knowing the Slayer, The Scoobies and The Initiative. He should try to live the best life a chipped, weepy, mute, overly sensitive, unable–to–hunt–for–his–own–food vampire could. Spike knew he didn´t have to stay in the mouldy basement and accept Xander´s terms simply because he was afraid of being caught by Riley and his mates again. He knew that, but such knowledge did nothing to quell the memories of his gang rape as they flickered around his mind in full colour and surround sound. Uttering a low moan, Spike rubbed a hand across his eyes as he felt his head beginning to ache the more he thought about his choices. As downright miserable as both choices were, Spike desperately wanted the protection that Xander was offering even in this demeaning way. The vampire was sure that, as violent, angry and nasty as Xander currently was, the youth would keep his word if he promised to keep Spike safe. That Harris would indeed feed him, clothe him and above all, protect him. Spike knew that his reputation amongst his former demon friends would be forever in the toilet once it was public knowledge that he had willingly become Harris´ Adored, still, Spike couldn´t bring himself to care. Spike could still fight demons, tear them to pieces with his bare hands in less than a minute but humans... humans are what he needed protecting from and with only one offer of protection, damn him to Hell for what was probably going to be a descion he would later regret, Spike was going to grab it.... after all, he simply wanted to live. Blinded by the desire to be kept safe, Spike slowly slid onto his hands and knees, crawling over to where Xander stood. Sitting back on his heels and bracing himself on Xander´s knees, Spike hesitated before leaning forward, rubbing his face over the hard bulge of Xander´s cock.

"Cut the fucking crap... just do it already would you?"

At Xander´s snarled demand, Spike suddenly found himself battling to blink back a fresh onslaught of tears that threatened to overflow and instead tried to focus on the task ahead of him. Shuddering in both fear and distaste, Spike nimbly undid the jeans button and pulled the metal zipper all the way down, allowing the boxer encased hard cock to jut out between the fly. At Xander´s gasp, he flinched before slowly caressing the boy´s hard member through the cheap cotton material of the white boxers.

"Oh man, oh... oh... uhhhh... Jesus, t–that is soooo damn good."

Biting down on his bruised and tender bottom lip, Spike knew what he had to do but was uncertain of where or even how to begin, horrified to find that he couldn´t even begin to make such a simple descion. A few moments later and a little more sure of himself, Spike reached up to tug Xander´s jeans down only to utter a shocked squeal of pain as Xander wrapped both hands through his hair, half lifting, half dragging the vampire towards the double bed. Utterly terrified that Xander had changed his mind about the blow job and was now going to demand that Spike put out all the way, Spike felt faint as his headache got worse, the pain crawling over his scalp due to Xander´s rough treatment causing him to dry retch once more. As frightened as he was and as much as he wanted to forget about the deal and just run, Spike couldn´t bring himself to struggle with the youth. Instead, the panting vampire found his body felt too heavy for him to be able to move properly. With rough hands, Spike was pushed and shoved into kneeling between Xander´s open thighs as he sat on the bed, the youth´s solid weight causing the old mattress springs to ping as Xander shifted around while adjusting his jeans and boxers. Told to ´stop the crying´, Spike hurriedly ground a fist across his eyes in the hopes of stemming the flow of tears, his embarrassment growing when Xander barked in laughter at his hiccups. His worsening headache making him feel dizzy, Spike watched as Xander gestured towards his open fly, the vampire not quite grasping what the hand gestures meant as his mind spun. A slap across his head, hard enough to make his ears ring and Spike´s head was shoved towards Xander´s crotch, heavy hands forcing Spike´s face an inch from Xander´s fully erect penis as it poked out from the youth´s boxers.

With a hard gulp, Spike coughed to clear his suddenly dry throat as he realised that he was at the point of no turning back, not that refusal was an option open to him anymore. The vampire reached out, and with the tip of his tongue, he licked lightly at the precum gathered on the tip of Xander´s cock. Instantly, Spike felt the urge to be sick, the memory of swallowing the five soldiers´ cum rushing to the forefront of his mind. Compulsively swallowing in an effort not to vomit, he clapped a hand over his mouth. He twisted his head from under Xander´s hands, staring up at Xander with fear filled eyes as he wondered what would happen next. Spike took in Xander´s stony gaze, his stomach dropping when he was forced to comprehend that there was no way Xander was going to let him off now, no matter how sick it made Spike to do it. He flinched backwards as Xander lay a hand back on the top of his bleached curls, only to relax slightly when Xander started to stroke his fingers through his ungelled hair.

"Come on, Spike, you know you can do better than that. Don´t make me help you."

Spike nodded slightly even as he removed his hand from his mouth, the desire to just curl up in a corner and howl while rocking himself almost overwhelming. As heavy as his whole body felt, Spike willed himself to brace his hands on Xander´s thighs. Unable to refrain from gagging as he licked at Xander´s cock again, Spike tried to concentrate on the oddly soothing fingers that were making random patterns over his scalp. A stronger lick this time to the reddened tip of Xander´s cock, the loud hiss and resulting jerk of the hips causing Spike to shriek in startlement.

"Yeah, yeah... you can do it. Good... that´s good, Spike."

Hearing the low voice, Spike sniffled, a combination of dominance, settling anger and the need to cum filling Spike´s senses. Courage gathered, Spike took the rosy head fully into his mouth, swirling his tongue along the underside of the warm shaft. Eyes screwed shut the moment he saw Xander´s hand reaching down to play with his heavy balls, the vampire gripped onto the denim–clad thighs as tightly as he dared while he sucked on the very tip of the cock. Tongue darting every now and again into the slit, Spike let the cock withdraw fully from his mouth before flicking his tongue in light feathery motions around the head, the hand on his head getting heavier when he started to sweep his tongue from base to tip in long, hard licks.

"Play with me... y–you know... uuuhhhhh.... umf... umf... my balls..." Tempted to snatch his hand back as he felt Xander pick up his left hand, Spike felt a fresh wave of nausea as two of his fingers were shoved inside the tight space between Xander´s balls and boxers, Xander rubbing Spike´s fingers across his thickly haired sac in a clear demonstration of how he wanted it done. Pausing his efforts to cram as much of Xander´s cock in his mouth as he could without actually forcing it down his throat, Spike breathed in deeply around the pulsating member so as to settle his swirling stomach before continuing. Up and down, up and down, up and down Spike´s head went, his tongue swirling in time to Xander´s heavy panting. Every time the youth groaned, Spike stopped, sucking the skin around the shaft of the penis into his mouth. When Xander swore, the vampire let his teeth graze the solid shaft. All the while Spike fought to contain the nausea.

Spike could smell it, smell the boy getting closer to release and even as the thought came to him, Spike gagged again when an iron strong grip held his head still so that Xander could start thrusting upwards into Spike´s mouth. Even though he knew he couldn´t choke, Spike gagged each time the head Xander´s cock grazed the back of his throat, Xander patting his head in what was obviously supposed to be a soothing manner. Still, as distressing as the whole thing was, Spike continued to stroke his fingers through Xander´s thick pubic hair, tugging at a few strands here and there when a experimental tweak caused Xander´s heart rate to jump a few notches. With Xander´s thrusts becoming faster and harder, Spike clutched at the denim jeans pooling around Xander´s knees in order to keep himself from being shoved onto the floor.

"Almost... a–a–almost... yes... uh... uh... uh... uh..."

Spike let his mind slip away as Xander´s thrusts became so violent, the youth was virtually standing, forcing Spike´s head still while continuing to pump in and out of his mouth. The vampire could feel that both his arms were wrapped around Xander´s thighs while deep throating Xander´s cock but it didn´t feel quite right, almost as if he wasn´t really there. The same with Xander´s voice, he could hear it but not quite understanding it as the words became muffled, sounding far away from where Spike was. Content to just drift along the grey haze his mind was travelling down, Spike paid no heed to the indistinguishable words coming from somewhere above him. Just as he refused to allow himself to acknowledge when Xander´s cock was removed fully from his mouth, instead, allowing his empty mouth to just hang open as he continued to drift even as a foul odour started to seep through the haze clouding his mind.

Suddenly, Spike was back. A thick, wet spurt of cum sprinkling across his face, startling the vampire back into full consciousness, a second spattering of the creamy substance causing him to jerk backwards much like a clenched fist slamming into his cheek would. Not quite ready to accept what was actually happening, Spike panted quietly as his face and neck was coated with the white fluid, the basement echoing to the tune of Xander´s harsh grunting while he deliberately emptied himself upon Spike. It was Xander shaking his cock across Spike´s nose that broke the vampire´s trance, Spike immediately vomiting onto the ratty carpet as soon as he recognised the rancid aroma as Xander´s cum. Retching once more, Spike could feel cold strands of bile coating his chin and mouth, the acidity burning into his already stinging bottom lip.

"Uh... uh... yeah... you´re s–staying Spike. *Oooooohhhhhhsssshhiiiiit*... hold on... wait there... okay? It´s all right Spike... shhhhh... shhh... jus– ... just wait there."

Again and again, Spike retched, paying no heed to Xander´s words as his stomach started to cramp. With his shaking becoming full body tremors, Spike pitched forward, collapsing onto the grimy carpet. His face barely an inch from the pool of his own vomit, the vampire continued to retch even as he curled into a tight ball. Dimly, he could hear running water coming from the bathroom, the sound of cupboard doors being opened and slammed shut, the soft ´whiirrr´ as the toilet roll spun around on its holder and the flush of the toilet. As awkward as it was, Spike rocked himself back and forth, back and forth, vainly trying to give himself a modicum of comfort. Before he could raise a hand to wipe at the noxious mess dripping down his neck, Spike was pulled to an upright sitting position. Slowly, strong hands gently pushed him backwards until he was leaning against the double bed. His panting coming in short, sharp gasps, Spike flung his head from side to side each time he felt something touch his hair even as his dry retching dissipated into harsh panting.

"Spike... come on... open your eyes... come on... it´s all right... shhhhh, shhhhhhhh..." Wincing at the sour, tart smell of the vomit covering a small patch of the basement´s well worn carpet, Xander frowned as he looked down at the mess of a vampire in front of him as his own stomach gurgled in reaction to the unpleasant aroma. A shake of his head and he concentrated on getting Spike to hold his head still. Bottom lip worried, Xander batted Spike´s hands away from his own resting upon Spike´s head. His anger, although not quite gone, was not as overwhelmingly potent as it had been earlier, allowing Xander to be more patient with the obviously distraught vampire. Now that his need for dominance had been satisfied along with his pent up sexual frustration, Xander was feeling generous towards Spike, the youth deciding that being nice to Spike wasn´t going to show that he was weak. Still, even with that thought, Xander tightened his grip through Spike´s hair and pulled back on the bleached strands, tipping Spike´s face upwards even as the vampire plucked feebly at his fingers.

"Stop it, Spike, I´m not going to hurt you, okay? Just hold your head still so that I can wash your face before all this ´ick´ dries, all right? Come on, settle down... shhhhh... you don´t want this on you all night, do you? No... no you don´t, come on... that´s it, shhhhhh." All the while he talked to Spike, trying to soothe the vampire, Xander wiped at the drying cum on the pale face with a wet washcloth. Gently but firmly, he smoothed the cloth down Spike´s neck, washing away stray splashes of his cum. Once it was all gone, Xander released his hold on Spike and strode back towards the bathroom where he rinsed the washcloth before throwing it in the dirty clothesbasket. A glance back to where he had left the vampire and Xander was surprised to find himself oddly happy to see that Spike hadn´t moved from where Xander had placed him, his head still tipped back. Not bothering to worry about why he was happy, Xander instead got a fresh washcloth from the linen closet, wetting it under a stream of warm water. Face cloth rung out, he returned to Spike´s side, this time crouching down beside the trembling figure. Xander, with a light touch, pushed Spike´s head forward again so that the vampire faced straight ahead. His jaw clenched when he realised that Spike still hadn´t opened his eyes, Xander pressed the cloth against Spike´s face, patting at the cool skin. "Hey... hey, you can open your eyes, you know? Nothing to be frightened of here."

~ ....Y–you... I... I can be frightened of... you... ~

For the first time since Xander had burst through the basement door, Spike was able to form a coherent thought other than his desperate rationalisation of why it was in his best interests to accept Xander´s Claim on him. Shame, embarrassment, unease, distrust, wariness and a multitude of other emotions he couldn´t even bring himself to name shrouded him, his body still feeling unusually heavy and clumsy. His mind still numb around the edges, Spike panted and shook while finding that all he was capable of doing was sitting still, continuing to submit to whatever Xander wanted him to do and right now, his *Claimant* wanted to clean his face.

~ *Claimant* ~

Oh God, the thought of Xander Harris as his Claimant was laughable. Almost. As the idea rolled around in his mind, unnoticed by Spike, his arms came down, his hands fluttering into his lap where he absently started to fiddle with the hem of Xander´s torn shirt. Roll the hem up, roll the hem down... Xander was his Claimant... roll the hem up, roll the hem down... Xander *owned* him... roll the hem up, roll the hem down... five years... up, down... that´s how long Spike would be Xander´s property... up, down... that is, providing Xander didn´t re–establish his Claim after five years... up, down... up, down... but... but the other one... updownupdownupdown... the other one was first... updownupdownupdown... Xan–... Xander wasn´t his real Clai–... Abruptly, Spike cut off this thought, terrified of where it was taking him, instead concentrating on rolling the hem up and down, up and down while he let Xander continue to dab at his face with a now cold face cloth. A shudder tore through him as he listened to Xander try and make all the right types of soothing noises, one of the youth´s hands repeatedly stroking down Spike´s left arm.

"Don´t worry, Spike, I´ll look after you now... I mean, you sure as hell can´t look after yourself, heh?" said Xander with a little laugh, oblivious to the fact that his words caused Spike to flinch. With Spike´s tears dwindling to a halt and his trembling settling down a notch, Xander became satisfied that the vampire was going to be okay, a smile crossing his face. Jerking the shirt out of Spike´s hands, he wrapped a hand around Spike´s arm and got to his feet, hauling Spike with him. A frown momentarily broke through the smile as Xander ran his gaze up and down the torn shirt that Spike was wearing, *Xander´s* torn shirt. As much as he wanted to just rip it straight from Spike´s body, Xander knew without a doubt that such an action would only prompt Spike to burst into a fresh bout of tears and Xander just wasn´t in the mood for such a thing. Instead, he snatched the shirt hem from between Spike´s fingers again. "Get the shirt off."

~ Oh. Oh... okay then? You´re not... you know, please... don´t? ~

His words tapering off into a soft whisper even in his own mind, Spike couldn´t help but sniff in the boy´s general direction, his shoulder´s sagging in relief as he realised from Xander´s scent that the youth was sated for now and embarking on round two of ´stick my dick in Spike´s mouth´ was more than likely the last thing on his mind right now. Still, even as he knew he should be following Xander´s instructions without question, Spike´s too heavy hands continued to dangle at his sides.

"Spike, I´m asking you to take the shirt off. Please... please don´t try my patience again so soon, all right?" Xander stood with arms crossed watching as Spike, still with his eyes closed, reached up and with jerky clumsy motions started to worry at the shirt´s fake mother of pearl buttons. "Oh come off it, Spike, *everyone* can undo buttons."

~ I´m tryin´... really I am. Jus–... just fiddly little buggers they are. I´ll do it though, I will. ~

"Jesus Christ, am I really going to have to do everything for you? Thought you were old enough to undress yourself?" Watching almost unbelievingly as it took the vampire a good minutes worth of nervous fiddling to undo just one button, Xander sighed as he stepped forward, slapping Spike´s hands away from the next button before competently undoing the remaining buttons. He quickly stripped the shirt from Spike´s body, throwing it on the floor. Telling Spike to stay where he was, Xander rummaged through the clothes on the floor, picking out his latest purchases. Spike´s new clothes found, he placed them in a rolled up bundle on the bed. "Spike? Here... *catch!*"

Instinctively, Spike opened his eyes, arms shooting out to catch the black bundle that Xander threw to him. Just in time to stop it from landing on the floor, a hell of a lot slower than his usual vampiric speed, the vampire froze, hating himself the moment he looked towards Xander for further instructions. Already feeling compelled to seek permission from his Claimant for even the smallest thing, Spike choked back a sob of shame when he lowered his eyes after acknowledging Xander´s order to ´put it on´ with a slight nod. Shaking out the black cloth, Spike´s brow furrowed as he realised he was holding a brand new t–shirt, complete with price tag still attached. Tag ripped off, he quickly put it on, the fingers of one hand fiddling with the edge of the soft material a few seconds later while the other clutched onto the price tag. Spike stood motionless, not sure what to do as Xander showed him the new clothes, Spike unconsciously rolling the t–shirts hem up and down, up and down.

"Here, I got you some boxers of your own ´cos mine are just like, totally hanging off your hips and seriously, it looks bizarre, not to mention my sweat pants are doing the same thing right now. I mean, holy shit, another half inch and you would be legally exposing yourself... hahahaha. Anyway, I also got you some jeans, a shirt to go over your t–shirts. Yeah, I know, it´s blue and I know you like red better but Wal–Mart had really bad... *baaaad* reds in this season and trust me, when your two best friends are a lesbian bordering on being labelled a lipstick lesbian and a fashion label addict Slayer, you *know* about colours... just don´t count on me to always listen to them about what goes with which, heh. Oooohhh, you´ve got boots, couldn´t afford Docs, so just be thankful you got these, right? Good. Oh yeah, last but not least, socks and the good thick ones too ´cause you know, the thin ones always make your feet slip around in the shoes, huh... weird isn´t?" said Xander, his smile broadening into a genuine grin as the last of his anger seeped away and he slipped into his trademark babble.

"You try and walk but all you can do is like, slip and slide around... sorta like your own personal roller rink... but in your shoe... you know?" laughed Xander as he searched through the new clothing for a pair of boxers, not really paying attention to the vampire standing stiffly beside the bed. Boxers found, he thrust the pair into Spike´s hand, gesturing at Spike to put them on. "Right, boxers on... you into bed and fed... then sleep, ok? Good, oh... Spike, look over here... no, *over here*, like... helloooo... using your eyes would be of the good, yeah, that´s better. This is your drawer now... uh–huh, that´s right, all yours and that means you keep the clothes that aren´t on your back in here, at *all* times, well... unless they are in the wash... or to be washed... or drying, okay... heh–heh. I don´t want them lying all over the floor, right? Cool."

It´s all too surreal, thought Spike even as he nodded his agreement to what Xander was saying. If he hadn´t just experienced Xander at his worst, there was no way from simply watching the youth go about the basement and being his usual affable babbling self that anyone, *anyone* including his best friends, would be able to tell that Xander had a hidden side. A dangerous, and as far as Spike was concerned, lethal side. Watching almost as if from afar as Xander folded the newly bought clothing, emptying his own personal stuff out of the bedside table´s bottom drawer in order to make room for Spike´s t–shirt, boxer´s and socks. Even though he knew it was unfolding before his eyes, Spike wondered again if it was really happening when he allowed his gaze to follow Xander as the youth moved things around in the large maintenance cupboard–cum–walk in robe. Spike continued to nod automatically to Xander´s prompts as he pointed out that Spike now had a full quarter of the closet to call his own, including top shelf space. At yet another of Xander´s prompts, Spike broke from staring at Xander and stripped off the overly loose sweat pants, the tag ripped off and the boxers immediately donned in their place, Spike´s fingers seeked out the t–shirt hem, rolling it up and down, up and down even as he continued to hold onto the clothing tags. Spike looked towards Xander again just in time to see the youth hanging up the new jeans and shirt before placing Spike´s boots neatly in the cleared floor space of what was now Spike´s side.

"Right, you dressed... oh, you are, good. Into bed, you look like shit that´s been re–fried a million times so I´m gonna get you some dinner and you are gonna get some sleep. Won´t be far after you anyway, sorta tired myself. Always am after having a temper. Takes a lot outta you, throwing a fit, you know?" Xander continued to babble on, turning his back to Spike once he was assured that the vampire was now dressed for bed. "Shit, look at the time, almost 8.30? Wow, didn´t know it was so late... well, not really. Late to be having dinner but pretty early to go to bed, you know? Anyhow, like I said... I´m kinda tired and I´m guessing you are, too. Be good to get some extra hours´ sleep. Wake up tomorrow feeling waay better, right?"

~ Yeah... okay, sure. I... I guess I am tired. Didn´t realise it ´til now.. so yeah, sleep is a good idea Har–... Pet... soddin´ hell, don´t even know what to call you, now? Suppose you´ll tell me soon enough though, eh? ~

Only too aware that he was nodding again to Xander´s words, Spike slowly limped around to what had become, over the past two weeks, his side of the bed. Bedcovers pulled back, Spike slid into bed, wincing as the springs in the old mattress poked into the flowering bruises covering most of his legs and torso, Spike turning on the bedside lamp after yet another request from his Claimant. Still unable to truly believe what was happening, Spike watched detachedly as Xander banged and clattered his way around the small kitchenette, microwaving a few bags of blood in a large jug while keeping an eye on some sort of tinned muck heated up on the old electric stove even as the youth continued to talk about the mundane happenings at his current worksite. Up and down, up and down, the small thin fingers of the vampire continued to fiddle with the hem of his new t–shirt.

"And anyway, you just should have *seen* Barney´s face when Carl poured the water, heh–heh," laughed Xander. Almost literally floating on cloud nine, Xander chatted happily, oblivious to the fact that Spike wasn´t listening. The microwave finished, he poured half the blood into a large mug, leaving the rest sitting on the bench. With a sniff at the air, Xander realised he hadn´t yet cleaned up the vomit from the carpet and with his stomach roiling once again, he quickly made his way to the bathroom where he tore off a good few handfuls of toilet paper before wetting a kitchen coth. As he passed by the stove on his way to the smelly mess, Xander gave his tinned spaghetti–o´s a quick stir, making sure that it didn´t burn and stick to the bottom of the saucepan. Still chatting amiably about his workmates, Xander knelt down beside the splash of red covering a small section of the grey beige carpet, gathering all that he could in the scrunched up toilet paper before scrubbing at the wet carpet with the kitchen cloth. Satisfied that it was cleaned up to the best of his abilities, Xander flushed the toilet paper and threw out the kitchen cloth, his stomach churning at the thought of using it to wash his dishes the next day. Hands washed and wiped on his work jeans, Xander turned down the heat on the stove and pick up the mug of blood as he made his way over towards Spike. The grin on his face slid a little as he noted the way Spike moved away from him, the vampire shrinking back against the bare wall as Xander held out the blood filled mug for Spike to take. "Ahhhh, if you don´t want me to smack you again, then I would suggest you stop your shit and just drink this?"

~ Sorry... sorry. Jus–... just don´t ... hurt me, ok? ~

With great effort, Spike forced himself to sit upright again in the bed, trying to ignore all the instincts that kept screaming at him to run from the danger that was one Xander Harris. Nodding at the boy´s words, Spike once again had to remind himself that he was safer with Xander than he would be out in Sunnydale and alone. Spike shrieked when Xander suddenly plonked himself down on the bed beside Spike, reaching down and wrapping one of the vampire´s lax hands around the handle of the mug. Spike coughed into his startlement, embarrassed that he should scare so easily. Xander continued to babble about his workmates and the new site, pausing in his tale only to direct Spike to drink, ensuring the vampire tightened his grip around the mug. His hand still shaking, Spike lifted the mug to his mouth and took a tentative sip. Drinking the blood slowly, Spike barely noticed the taste of pig´s blood, instead swallowing his dinner mechanically as he kept his gaze on the outline of Xander´s collarbones. All the while Xander watched him drink, the boy´s grin fading away until his mouth was nothing more than a tight line, a renewed annoyance seeping from him.

"Spike, my face is up here... you know, *here*?" snapped Xander, jabbing towards his face with a pointed finger, a gesture that grabbed Spike´s attention instantly. "When I talk to you, you look *at* me, right... not at my chest, the wall or the floor, okay? A nod, good. Now, you finished... you are. You still hungry... no? Fair enough then. I´ll put the rest in the fridge. Gimme the mug, I´ll give it a rinse. You can do the dishes properly tomorrow. You do know how to do dishes, don´t you?"

~ Yeah, ´course I bloody well can. Not that f´n useless... just because I feel it, don´t mean I am. Did them today in fact P–... Xander. Look, over there! ~

Gesturing towards the stack of dishes still in the dish drainer, Spike muffled another shriek when Xander gave Spike´s hair a quick ruffle, the youth beaming as he praised the vampire for doing ´such a great job, thanks, Spike.´ Spike could only sigh in relief when Xander moved off the bed and headed into the kitchen once more, the vampire agreeing with Xander that he would do the dishes whenever they needed doing. His humiliation flaring up as he envisioned himself elbow deep in dishes and soapy water for the rest of his life, Spike willed himself to keep his gaze upon Xander as Xander continued to talk while eating his dinner straight from the saucepan. A low whine escaped Spike when Xander abruptly stopped eating, instead narrowing his gaze and staring at the vampire.

"Hey, you know how to cook, right? No... but you eat human stuff all the time? Hmmphf... you saw what I just did with the Spaghetti–o´s, didn´t you? Yes... well, it´s simple. Get out a saucepan, open a can, throw the contents in, start up the stove, cook until hot, serve on a clean plate and voila... you´re a chef!" Xander stared as Spike squirmed in unease even as the vampire nodded.

~ Uh–huh... right. Understand everything, clean plate and all. If it´s just cans you want doing, can do that. Fuck, what a laugh. Me, a Master Vampire pay´n his way with clean dishes and tinned spag. Could be worse... gonna get worse, jus´ know it. Can bloody well feel it. Know the boy´s gonna shove his cock down me throat again... why wouldn´t he... not as if I´m gonna say no now, is it? ~

Unconsciously, Spike flinched as his gaze dropped to Xander´s crotch, this simple action clearing the residual haze that clung to his mind. Unable to help himself, he panted quickly, allowing himself to panic at the all too fresh memory of Xander sliding his cock into Spike´s mouth. The sound of soft panting filled the basement, Spike unable to tear his gaze away from the front of Xander´s work jeans.

"Good, don´t want you to think that you´re staying here with nothing to do, spend your days all carefree and lazy while I break my balls bringing home the money. You stay with me, you pay your way... whaaaa... what are looking at me like that for?" demanded Xander, his anger flaring up again as he watched Spike´s gaze drop down to Xander´s crotch. Unconsciously, Xander clenched his jaw while his hands tightened around the saucepan handle and fork. Head shaken as he listened to the vampire start panting again, Xander swore as he realised why Spike was looking at his crotch. "Fuck! You are totally retarded if you think I´m gonna stick my dick anywhere near *you* again! Not gay here. Why are you even thinking that, huh... do *I* look gay... huh... DO YOU THINK I LOOK GAY?"

Spike cringed into his thin pillow, panting shallowly as Xander threw the saucepan across the room, the vampire jumping as it clanged into the far wall, the remaining spaghetti splattering over the grey wall. As Xander slowly descended on Spike, the irate youth repeatedly demanded that Spike tell him if he thought Xander was gay. Shaking his head for all he was worth, Spike desperately blinked back the tears that threatened to fall as Xander loomed over him, the boy´s earlier amiability replaced by a foul mood, not unlike his earlier rage.

"Do. you. think. *I*. am. gay? Noooooo, that´s right, Spastic, shake that head of yours. You know what, thinking´s just always gotten you in trouble, hasn´t it. Nod, Spike... you fucking well nod because I´m *asking* you to... right? Good, a nod." spat Xander. With slow, deliberate and yet vicious moves, he poked at Spike´s forehead with a pointed finger, emphasising his words. "From now on, you just do what I say and I´ll think for you... all right? Good."

~ Okay... okay. Whatever, jus´ stop with the pokin´ all right? ~

"Right. See that fucking mess over there... yeah, the saucepan. Your fault, so you clean it, *no*, not now... tomorrow... and while you´re at it, you can get that lazy arse of yours into gear and tidy everything up. You wanna stay here, then pull your weight!" Xander snarled, leaning back and walking around to his side of the bed. Ignoring Spike´s renewed shaking, Xander turned his back and with fast hard actions, he stripped down to his boxers. A quick glance towards Spike on the way from turning the kitchen light off, Xander shook his head as he saw that Spike had curled into a tight ball, his back to Xander as he faced the basement wall. Stifling a yawn, he stretched his arms wide, surprising himself when he yawned again. With a halfhearted kick, he shifted his work clothes away from the bed even as he pulled at the thin sheets and blankets. Xander slid into bed, grumbling about the crappy mattress and ultra prickly springs. Pillow thumped and fluffed into a more satisfactory shape, he wriggled further down into the bed in the hopes of finding some sort of hidden warm patch. Silence descended upon the tiny basement, broken only by the vampire´s continual panting, the minutes ticking away while both inhabitants slipped into deep thoughts.

It was a cough from Xander that broke Spike´s own ponderings, the vampire tensing as he listened to Xander mumble under his breath to himself. Spike waited for either a new explosion or, if his senses were correct, an apology, as the vampire could smell Xander´s anger dissipating rapidly. A moment later, Xander started in with the latter, his voice radiating eagerness and kindness, a hint of regret tinging the words just as Spike could sense the boy starting to relax.

"I scared you didn´t I? Nah, don´t answer that... we both know I did. Sorry if I did though, I... I just get angry from time to time and you just happened to be here, be the one for me to take it out on... so, I´m sorry for scaring you, okay? But what I did, Claiming you... I did mean it. I´ll look after you, Spike, I promise... you´re mine now," stated Xander in–between yawns, shifting around in the bed to get more comfortable. Rolling onto his side so that he faced Spike´s pale back, Xander hesitated a moment before reaching up and gently tweaking at the bleached blond curls, alternately tugging and running his fingers through the soft hair. "You don´t have to do it all the time, the cleaning and stuff, I mean... a few times a week is good, you know? Shit, I´m not like Giles´ and completely anal, heh... if I was, you´d be in the bathtub anyway, heh–heh."

~ Whatever you want Pet... whenever you want. ~

Shuddering as Xander pulled a little too hard at a lock of his hair, Spike found himself wondering if it was too late to change his mind and try for a deal with the former Watcher. Even as he envisioned himself manacled and lying awkwardly against the cold porcelain, safe from most of Arseholes Inc., Spike gave a barely audible whine as he realised that Riley wouldn´t have any problem getting to him again. Intent on ridding himself of the almost overwhelming images of his rape as they floated before his vision, Spike instead concentrated on the fingers running through his hair, the combination of the gentleness of the actions and Xander´s scent becoming a drowsy calm, allowing Spike to start relaxing himself. Still, Spike was unable to help from turning the night´s earlier events over in his mind. As he ran through it slowly, tears threatening to burst free at any moment, Spike thought about one of the questions that had been spat at him, Xander sneering that Spike knew what ´Claimant´ and ´Adored´ meant.

The Claiming, yeah, he knew *all* about that particular ritual. Too much as far as Spike was concerned. He had been Angelus´ Adored until his Sire´s soul had been returned to him, a slave to Angelus for over 20 years. A slave, but a well kept, occasionally pampered and literally adored slave. Above all, he had been a viciously, obsessively *protected* slave, with Angelus quickly earning a reputation for ripping the heads clean off *anything* that dared pick on or some days, even glance at Spike. However, being given the status of an adored and valued *object* by a Master Vampire such as Angelus had ensured Spike both the added protection of all the Aurelius´ Masters, Childer and minions, and the reputation of being ´untouchable´ by almost all demons he came into contact with. If he accepted Xander´s terms, Spike would be getting the two witches and possibly the Watcher´s protection by default and even though he could already count out the Slayer´s, Anya´s and Farm boy´s help in the future, Spike knew that it was the best he was going to get.

He didn´t want to be Xander´s property; he didn´t want to be any *human´s* property or responsibility. He didn´t want this to be the only viable option left open to him, but the truth was Spike was tired. He was tired of crying at the drop of a hat and he was tired of wondering when Xander would kick him out, and seeing how Xander had been earlier, it might have been a literal kicking out. And Spike was sick of feeling confused as to why he was so weepy and overly emotional. Yeah, the Watcher said it was brain damage caused when his head had been repeatedly bashed against the stone coffin´s corner but, over the years, Spike had had many head injuries and he had always recovered after a few days, so why was it so different now? Surely it couldn´t be just the chip doin´ his head in even more? It couldn´t be possible for a damaged piece of silicon and wires to cause so many problems, could it? He was sick of trying to figure out whether, if he had just done something, anything, differently *that* night, would it have made a difference... would he have still been raped? Oh, he knew without a doubt that nothing he could have done would have prevented the beating, but the rape...

He hated that he couldn´t go into his game face whenever he wanted to, that his true face only appeared when he was about to feed. And he hated it that such a detail made him different, yet again. As if the chip and his alliance with the Slayer weren´t bad enough but now, he wasn´t even a true vampire, he couldn´t even act the part now. Couldn´t even flash his ´face´ at the unsuspecting masses, earning himself an ego boost when they screamed and ran from him, such a small thing but one he had turned to more and more lately just to give him a good start to the evenings. He hated how vulnerable he suddenly was... how stupid he felt whenever he jumped at the sounds he would never have even noticed before. How sleep had come so much more easily when he had grabbed hold of Xander´s hand a few night´s ago and had done ever since. Spike hated that he was ignoring instincts that were howling at him to just flee the basement, take his chances and run rather than stay and endure the already ominous shadow that was tickling the back of his mind. He hated that he already knew he had made one hell of a shitty deal, sure that he would live to regret it and he *really* hated that Xander had been able to pull off such a fantastic job of disguising his temper for so long, especially when living with Spike before.

Spike detested that he wasn´t sure how to act with Xander now that the youth was his Claimant, official or not. He didn´t like that he didn´t know what Xander´s ´temper triggers´ were and how to avoid them or just how far Xander could be pushed. There was no doubt that Spike would learn what they were in time, more than likely in the near future if Xander´s previous rage was anything to go by. He hated that he didn´t know where he stood with Xander, and he was dreading working out the kinks in the newly established relationship in the up and coming days.

Above all, Spike hated that he was already looking to a human *child* for direction on how to live his life.

The more he thought about his situation, Spike realised that he would have to tread carefully for a few weeks and see how everything settled down. After all, Xander had already relented somewhat on the cooking and cleaning demand so there was a good possibility that Xander might not ask too much of him. Maybe Xander´s bark would be worse than his bite. Spike shivered suddenly, a half smile gracing his face as he wondered if someone had walked over his long forgotten grave. His smile broadening as he silently admonished himself for being superstitious. A small shake of his head and the vampire pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. Realising that he still had hold of the clothing tags, Spike spent a brief moment debating whether to get up to put them in the trash and risk disturbing a bordering–on–sleep Xander or just throw them on the floor. Deciding on neither just in case Xander went mental again, he slid them underneath his pillow. Closing his eyes, Spike felt the gentle fingers stroking through his hair soothe his battered emotions into a dark slumber.

Together, both men drifted off into their respective dreams.

One drifted off into a dust filled horror that featured six men when before, there had only been five. The vampire mewled in his sleep as the five original men greeted the newest member. Compulsively, the bleached blond clutched at the much larger hand that had snaked around his middle, thick fingers intertwining with long, slender ones.

The other one sank deep into a dream that showed him how much like his father, uncle and most of his paternal family he was, and that no matter how hard he tried not to be, sometimes nature would always get the better of certain people. Unconsciously wriggling closer to the cool back and draping an arm over a toned stomach as a whine penetrated his dream, the dark haired youth was oblivious to the small hand gripping onto his for dear life.

***Warning: Child sexual abuse, not detailed but referred to, ahead***

Five months later. Tuesday, 5.45 am

So here I am, sittin´ on my side of what´s now known as ´our´ bed, watching me Claimant... boss... *master*... whatever... sleep.

Made a stupid fucking deal a few months ago. Knew I did pretty much from the first nod of me little ol´ head. Didn´t have much choice, but. Oh, I know I coulda jus´ walked out, but fear is a powerful thing. Gets you in such a tizz that you can only really see what´s in front of your eyes, bugger anythin´ else going on around you. Blinkers were on and all. See, that´s what happened to me. Was so f´n scared of being thrown out on my arse, giving Riley and his mates a perfect opportunity to get me again, that I couldn´t see anythin´ other than the offer Harris was waving under me nose.

Christ, I was so bloody pathetic. Snivelling, weeping like a newborn babe, shaking so much, anyone woulda thought I was epileptic or somethin´. Snotting everywhere and throwing up. Even as I agreeing to what he was offering me... demanding of me, I kept wondering if it was all for real? Xander wouldn´t really hit me... would he? And of course, found out the hard way that he would. Will throw in a few kicks as well, jus´ for good measure if he wants, had the bruises the next day to prove he would. Surely Harris didn´t really jus´ stick his dick down me throat, he couldn´t have jus´ wiped himself off on me face? Again, it wasn´t until he slapped his cock across me nose that it all hit home.

I had jus´ agreed that Xander Harris would be my Claimant and I was his Adored.

Of course, I look back now and I think I must have still been in shock from what... you know... Arseholes Inc. did... when they ra–...

Hmmmpf.

See how pathetic I am, still can´t bring meself to think about it... the crypt and ... and everything else.

Anyway, I *know* I was still in shock from... *that*... because no sane person would ever consider Xander Harris a safe option. Not if you´ve ever seen him in one of his tempers, been kicked and punched at until you´re cowering from him in the corner of a room, arms protecting your head and you wondering when and where he´s gonna hit you next. All the while he´s goin´ off his nut about how one of his friends back–chatted him that day and all he could do was smile and agree or how he´s had to work overtime then come home to a shit load of bills and it´s all my fault because I´m not putting in for them.

Missed it the first time. Couldn´t see his temper for the life of me. Don´t get me wrong though, when I was livin´ with him freshly chipped and tied to the armchair, I could smell him get into a snit every now and again, but he would jus´ flounce out the door and come home a few hours later a hell of a lot calmer. Still pissed, but not as much. Mind you, back then, I used to deliberately pick him up on it, get him riled up so he would jus´ fuck off and leave me in some peace. He´s so good at hiding the temper from his friends, hiding his emotions beneath the chirpy, goofy, wise cracking donut boy exterior he had going and that´s the only front he makes sure his friends and workmates see. Wouldn´t do for them to know that there´s more to the boy than wide grins, stick out ears and eternally bad jokes. Now, though, I wouldn´t dream of winding him up. Hell, wouldn´t even dare *look* at him wrong. Would only get me a slap across me head, bastard makes sure he catches me ear so that it stings real good. Got heavy hands as well so he can put some weight behind his punches.

I think it´s only the fact that, this time, my survival depends on him that makes me pay closer attention to his moods.

He will get close to me, chest to chest and shove his face into mine when he finally does get angry enough to lose control. Takes him a bit to lose it though, and most of the time he does calm himself down so that he doesn´t lose it completely. But when he does, Jesus Christ, I jus´ wanna be outta there... anywhere that´s away from him. Can´t move a bloody inch, always gotta be like a block of stone and let him pace up and down while he mutters to himself about how unfair life is. I shed one hair while he´s doin´ his nut and I cop it. Long, hard and brutal. He jus´ lays into me, no holds barred. Why should he have to hold himself back anyway, not as if he´s gonna hurt me is he? But he does, deliberately. Harris will give me a few kicks to the head with those steel capped boots of his, grind me head into the wall so hard that me scalp gets all bruised and I get one of those weird bald patches from where me hair´s been all rubbed off. Have to do me hair real careful like for a week or so after tempers like that. He´ll bend me fingers back till I can feel the tendons snapping and I´ll be blubbering for all I´m worth, trying to get me fingers free all the while he´s telling me to shut up and stop the tears. Fuck, one day... he was so bloody angry, he smacked me in the mouth with his coffee thermos... jus´... *BAM*, mouth full of metal and cold coffee. Teeth are the hardest things in a vampire´s body, almost lost a few that day, though. He hates it when I cringe from him, can´t help it though. He smells so bad when he´s angry, I jus´ have to turn me face from him, try and get away from the stench. Most of the time though, he doesn´t acknowledge his mood swings and usually ignores the fact that they set me tears off.

I´m still cryin´ almost every day. Seriously, I don´t think I´ll ever stop. Some days it´s barely a sniffle, others... like Niagara Falls. Most of the time, *I* don´t even know what sets me off, could be anythin´. A smell, a sound and sometimes, I´m cryin´ because I´m so bloody grateful that Harris is there to stroke his fingers through me hair after a doozy of a nightmare. He massages the back of me neck and shoulders, rubs all the tension out before continuing onto me scalp. He´s good that way; he´ll keep making those soothing little circles over me head and temples until I´m asleep again. He´s so patient with the nightmares and me. Doesn´t matter how many times I´ve woken him up during the night either, Xander will jus´ do it all over again, make sure I´m relaxed enough to go back to sleep. Some nights, I´ve woken him up four or five times but he doesn´t make a comment, jus´ looks at me with those big brown eyes of his and gives me a sleepy half smile until I drift off. Some nights, I can´t help smiling back at him because he makes me feel safe. Other nights, I wonder what it would be like if he did more than jus´ pet at me... spoon me. You know what, every morning... without fail... I wake up still clinging to his hand like there´s no tomorrow. I usually wake up before him, lay starin´ at the grotty ceiling until it´s time for him to wake up and when he wakes up before me, he does the same thing. Gets me all warm thinking about it.

Sad bloody git, ain´t I?

I hate it when the clock radio alarm goes off. When that happens, it´s time for me to give Harris his morning blowjob. Sounds weird, don´t it? Giving him his morning blowjob... like I was handing him his morning paper. Bit more effort in the blowjob though. Don´t get me wrong, I don´t hate the alarm because it´s blowjob time... well, actually I do... but I don´t hate the blowjobs themselves... does that make sense? I hate the bloody thing because it makes what I´ve gotten used to and even like a little... mundane... unspontaneous. Every morning it´s the same, like bloody clockwork. Quick blowjob, then he´s outta bed and into the shower. That high–pitched pipping signifies the start to my dullard of a day as well. Watch the boy make a pig sty of the kitchen while having breakfast, he goes off to work and I´m left with doin´ the dishes, washing, making the bed, watching the telly and listening out for the answering machine. About twice a week, Harris will leave a message on the machine, tellin´ me to jus´ heat up a can for his dinner. Boy never can decide until he´s about due home. Jus´ before Harris comes home at six, I´ll heat up his dinner if he wants some, otherwise he gets takeout and we both eat dinner in front of the telly. Other nights, he´ll come and get me so we can turn up at the Watcher´s shop for the usual end of the world research things. Can´t stand being near Farm boy and the Slayer, so I´ll jus´ sit meself in a corner and stare at a wall, make sure I´m as far away from them two as I can be while still being close to the boy. Watcher doesn´t bother handing me a book these days. He hands me a mug of blood, shoos me away and forgets about me till the meeting´s over. Why bother getting the retard to do anythin´? The witches always ask how I´m doin´, the blonde one usually makes a point of comin´ over sometime during a meeting and sitting for a bit with me. Doesn´t say anythin´ much except for telling me what´s happening on the University Campus and the newest scandals or the latest spell that Red has buggered up. Don´t care really, but it´s nice... laugh a bit at times. Reckon I know more about Miss Kitty Fantastico´s adventures than even Red does; hate the bloody thing... would love to introduce it to the lovely clinging confines of a plastic bag, but some days...

She asked me, one day, not too long after the crypt incident, why I didn´t move from Sunnydale, make a fresh start for meself? Jus´ shrugged and grunted at her, I mean, what do I say? Write down that I´m still scared that Riley and his mates would track me down? Tell her that no matter where I went, the tale of a vampire who was unable to speak and bite, one who couldn´t even go into his proper face except for feeding would spread like wildfire through the demon ranks? Describe to her jus´ how ´persuasive´ Xander would be in gettin´ me to stay if there was even a hint of me goin´ anywhere? Glinda kept askin´ me though, pesterin´ me to ´move on with me life´. Finally, she poked at me so much, I ignored her whenever she came over to talk at me at the followin´ meetings. Yeah, at me... no one talks with me anymore, it´s either *to* me or *at* me but never *with* me. She got the message after I did it a few times, apologised, and nothin´s been said about it since.

Harris doesn´t offer me the choice of going on patrol with him and the others. He always takes me home first, tells me that he´ll be back soon and not to stress while he´s gone, making sure that the basement door is locked before leaving. Tells me to be in bed before he gets home and like a good Adored, I do as he says. Of course, I watch the telly with the sound real low until I hear him clumping up to the basement door. Then, the telly gets snapped off and I´m in bed like a shot. Waiting to give my Claimant his nightly blowjob, that is, if he isn´t too injured or tired. Otherwise, I´ll jus´ patch him up and then we´ll go to sleep. Honestly, if I was allowed to go on patrol, I don´t think I could cope with it. Jus´ the thought of going out at night in the company of Bitchy and Arsehole sends me off into a panic attack. Don´t trust Iowa not to stake me by ´accident´. Can´t tell the boy that, though, can´t tell him I´m afraid of Riley and his mates, don´t want him to know. I´m too embarrassed and ashamed that I´m terrified of a pack of humans. Fuckin´ terrified of Harris when he´s in a snit as well.

Fantastic bloody life I lead, don´t I? Have to keep reminding meself that it could be worse. I could be flat on me back with a never–ending rotating line up of all the members of Arseholes Inc. Could still be in the white rooms of the Initiative. Could be fuckin´ the Slayer. Arrrgh.. would rather be shaggin´ the Watcher´s wrinkled arse, least he´s got curves and compared to her, a decent pair of tits.

Still, Harris has held up to his promise an´ it´s not that bad livin´ with him most times. He´s takes me out to the movies once a month and last time, I got to choose what we saw, something real violent. Blood and guts everywhere, brilliant it was. Even buys me popcorn or them jube things. Been shopping with him a few times, I mean, proper like to the Mall, not jus´ the supermarket. When he´s not in one of his tempers, he´s an alright kid to be around. Happy to do anythin´ really. Yeah, he beats the shit out of me and he´s only forced me to blow him a few times; most times I´m more than happy to swallow. And that´s only because he´s been out drinking with his work buddies, listening to them tell tales of how well their girlfriends and wives blow them and then come home sloshed and as horny as a goat. He´s a gropey little bugger when he´s been out drinking, too, hands every which way. Well, everywhere but me cock, that is. Don´t think he´s quite connecting the dots though and I´m sure as hell not going to give him any encouragement to take a step up from the blowjobs, no matter how many times I´ve had thoughts of him taking it further. Anyway, as the boy keeps tellin´ me, he *ain´t gay*.

Right, sure, mate. Three heavy drinks and the lad is well and truly past the ´curiously bi´ line. Keep waiting for him to plant one on me, stick somethin´ other than his cock down me throat. Mind you, the morning after one of his lil´ groping sessions, nothin´ is mentioned and like usual, the boy completely ´forgets´ anythin´ went on at all. And of course, it jus´ wouldn´t do for me to go and remind him.

He has taken care of me, though. I get 3 meals a day, the freshest blood the boy can buy from the local butcher or at a pinch, the supermarket. That´s not including all the human food he buys for me when we go grocery shopping. He´s bought me a couple of new shirts, boxers and another pair of socks. Makes sure I´ve always got the right conditioner for me hair, the blue one that takes the brassiness out of bleached hair. Boy grumbles each time he forks $15 out for it, keeps asking why a cheaper brand won´t do. Get a new one every few weeks without fail. Don´t get hair gel though, refuses point blank to buy it for me as he doesn´t like it. He hates when he can´t run his fingers through me hair easily. What can I do but jus´ whap a smile on me face and go along with it? Puttin´ up with poofy, foofy curly hair aint´ nothin´ compared to one of his little snits.

Still, I can´t believe at times jus´ how far I´ve fallen. From being one of the Scourge of Europe´s favoured Childer and Adored, to being a whore for a much younger man.

Being a whore is something I know all about. Before being Turned by the ever high and mighty Angelus and becoming his Adored, I was a pretty good thief. Only bloody fell into it by accident though. Sorta had to make me own way after I found out what sorta family business me Mam, me Mother, had wanted to introduce me to.

Me old Mam was a whore. Back in the day, the polite term for it was barmaid. Me and me Mam, there was jus´ no doubting I was hers... even if she didn´t know who me Dad was. Mam always had a few blokes a night so it coulda been anyone. Even though she worked out of the public bar of one the numerous inn´s in London, I doubt she ever wiped a table in her life. She was beautiful and still looked untouched for all her years as a whore. She had me so young, we was always mistaken for brother and sister not Mother and child. We shared the same thick, honey blonde hair and delicate white skin that not even a week´s built up grime could completely hide. Both had cheekbones that were the envy of all the whores that called Tennison Mews home. Me nose is the same as hers, but a little larger and jus´ a few more light freckles. Hands and even me feet were the same size as my Mam´s. Me eyes though, she used to say they were from me Dad. Weren´t like me Mam´s, hers were brown. And me hair was full of curls, not dead straight like hers.

When I was real young, too little to understand what me Mam did with all the blokes she brought home, I would ask who me Dad was. One day, she jus´ pointed out a bloke on the street and said, ´Him, my blue eyed Will, him.´ For ages, I honestly thought he was me Dad and I would look for him each time I went on an errand. Used to come home in tears for bloody weeks afterwards, all ´cause I didn´t see him. Finally woke up to meself and realised that she was havin´ me on.

Forgave her, though. Had to, she was me Mam and I loved her. Worshipped the bloody ground she walked on, I did. She wasn´t like all me friends´ Mams. Their´s were always ready with a backhander or a leather strop when you dared look at ´em sideways. Used to fall asleep to the sound of me friends´ Mams belting them around and screaming at them; the walls at the Mews were paper–thin so you got used to it after a while. Can remember listening to little Peter bawlin´ his head off one night. The banging and sound of flesh against flesh was worse than usual, when it went quiet all of a sudden. Jus´ fell asleep, relieved it was finally over and tellin´ meself I´d pinch one of me Mam´s toffees for him the next day. Didn´t know his Mam had beaten him to death in one of her drunken fits. She was hung only a month later. All me friends thought me Mam was on her way to bein´ a saint, loved her almost as much as I did. And she was, Mam never laid a finger on me, spoilt me rotten she did. Always made sure I came first. Kept me clean and fed the best she could. All me friends were apprenticed out by eight to craftsmen or workin´ in the factories but not me, Mam wouldn´t hear of it, no matter how much better the small wage would have made life. Still, I did me share by runnin´ errands and carryin´ parcels for the gentry. A few weird old blokes used to jus´ want me to sit with them on a park bench. They would give me a couple of bob jus´ to talk to them, and some of the old buggers would keep touchin´ me between the legs. Would grab me hand and rub it between their legs. Didn´t like that an´ I knew it was wrong, so I told Mam. She went real mad, shook me and told me I was special and had to be kept fresh or else I wouldn´t be worth as much. I didn´t understand what she meant but I wasn´t allowed down the park by meself again. Only time I ever saw her angry. Mam even taught me how to write me name, the only bit of schoolin´ I had when I was with her. Still went to bed hungry some nights, and even though I was a runt for me age, I was better off than most.

Wasn´t until a few year´s later that I found out what a cold hearted bitch she was.

As I got older, I sorta learned for meself what she was doin´ with all the men she brought home. There was only a torn, worn–through old sheet separating her ´working space´ from the rest of the small room we rented. Used to peek through the holes in the sheet, wonderin´ why me Mam was always gruntin´ and groanin´ when she was with one of her customers. Anyhow, if I hadn´t guessed, me friends had all told me what she did for a livin´. Stupid sods, not like their Mam´s weren´t doin´ the same. Bloody hell, even one of their Dad´s was a whore to the blokes that were constantly goin´ through the Mew´s front doors, although, that was jus´ a tad more hush–hush. No one really spoke about that.

I musta been about 9, can´t really remember, when one night, she brought around a well dressed gentleman. I never used to take much notice of who she brought back, but havin´ one of the well–to–do standin´ in our grimy little hovel was a shock. Bit of a surprise he was; seen him hangin´ around me street, would give me an´ me friends a wave now an´ then but never seen him in the Mews before. I was a bit of a shy lad back then, jus´ sat by the dying hearth playin´ with a broken tin soldier and watched as he hmmm´d his way around our room in disgusted disbelief, pokin´ at things with his ivory handled walking stick while me Mam was behind the old bed sheet, makin´ herself a bit more appealing. It wasn´t until his gaze fell upon me that he smiled; his whole face lit up into a huge grin. It was like time had stopped as we were starin´ at each other. Jus´ couldn´t help but stare at him and let me gaze follow him as he slowly turned around, grabbed hold of a chair beside the small table up against one wall and dragged it over to the hearth. Sittin´ down, he glanced over at where me Mam was washin´ herself before turnin´ back to me, askin´ me what me name was, how old I was, did I have a little brother... that sorta thing.

Too shy I was to answer him, so I jus´ kept sitting and starin´ at him. Didn´t deter him though, he jus´ started tellin´ me about how lovely me eye´s were and how he had never seen such a pretty blue before. He leaned down close to me face, only for his smile to broaden when he saw I had freckles. Told me that, with me blond curly hair and small build, I looked like a little angel . A cough from Mam broke through me trance, promptin´ me to do what I always did when she had a bloke over, pull on me winter coat and go wait on the landing while Mam did her business. This time, Mam stopped me, telling me to take me coat off and turn around with me arms out a few times.

Jus´ shrugged and did it, thought that maybe the gentleman was gonna give Mam one of his kids´ old coats for me and he needed to see me size. Wasn´t unusual, sometimes Mam accepted food or clothing instead of coin. Some of her regulars used to bring me sweets and rosewater perfume for Mam; sometimes, I´d even get a toy. Most were broken and beyond repair by the time they got to me, but I didn´t give a toss. All I cared about was that I had a brand new toy in me hot little hands. Then the gentleman sidled up to Mam´s side, whisperin´ in her ear while they both looked at me. Mind you, I was still turnin´ around as asked and by this time, I was gettin´ well beyond dizzy. Jus´ as I was about to tumble onto the floor, he stopped me, gathering me close to his side. I had a bad feelin´ about him, don´t know what it was, but all I knew was that I didn´t like him one bit. So, as dizzy as I was, I pushed meself away from him, tripping over me own feet only to crash in a heap on the old mat in front of the cold hearth.

Me Mam and him jus´ laughed at me even as I told ´em both to shut it. That only made ´em laugh all the more, so like the sulky little puss that I was, I turned me back on ´em and went back to playin´ with me tin soldier. Could hear ´em whisperin´ to each other though, him tellin´ Mam that ´the boy is simply splendid and a delight to behold but I must know more before making my mind up.´, Mam answering him back, saying ´he was´ and that the gentleman was welcome at any time, so long as he didn´t try to spoil the fruit before payment had been made. Had no bloody idea what they were on about so I jus´ ignored them as they laughed again, both walking out of our tiny room and into the hallway.

And thus began Lord Rufus Spencer´s visits. Regular like clockwork they were, every second Tuesday at 7pm. Went on for a few months. Every time he came, he seemed more interested in me than with me Mam. Used to sit by the hearth with me, him on a chair and me by his feet. Much as I had taken an instant dislike to him, me Mam had told me that I had to be nice to him as he was bringin´ us new clothin´ and sweets ´cause he had taken a bit of a shine to me. Mam told me that his boy had died in some sort of accident and that I should be kind to him because of it. Didn´t want a bloody bar of him to tell the truth, but since me Mam insisted, I would sit by his feet and listen to him waffle on about his house and horses in the country, sucking on one of the pieces of honeyed toffee or chewin´ me way through a bag of caramel melts that he had brought with him. Couldn´t help meself though, he had such a rich, strong voice, he would lure me in with stories of how big his garden was and how even the lowliest kitchen scrub had it good at his place. So even though I hated bein´ near him, I found meself eager for one of his stories whenever he stepped through our doorway. With him, I could forget about the dirty pigsty that was me childhood London. After a while, I forgot that I didn´t like him and little by little, I got used to him.

Don´t remember when it started or even how, but his visits progressed from me sittin´ on the floor to sittin´ in his lap, cradled against his chest with me head resting against his shoulder. He had big hands, not unlike the Harris whelp, an´ they would wander over me, never really restin´ anywhere in particular, though. An´ I really didn´t mind it, after all, he wasn´t old like the blokes in the park and I was allowed to call him Mr. Rufus, not Sir or Lord Spencer as one befitting me station should have. I was his friend and as both him and Mam would tell me, I was special. Besides, he would treat me Mam real nice, sometimes bring her a gift as well. If it made Mam happy for me to be nice to him, then I was happy meself to do it. All through the visits, Mam would be sittin´ at the table, sewing up a tear in her stockings or darning a patch on one of me shirts. One eye always on Mr. Rufus and me.

One night, all hell broke loose.

It was a Tuesday night and Mr. Rufus was due to visit in only a few minutes but I was all in a panic ´cause me Mam was nowhere to be seen. It wasn´t unusual for her to be runnin´ late but the clapper´s, police, had been trolling the streets and hassling a lot of the working girls and boys. Even some of the local knockshops had been raided and closed down in the past few weeks. I was real worried that Mam had been arrested for prostitution. Even if she was lawfully employed as a barmaid, they could still haul her in for questioning and in them days, there was no such thing as legal aid and lawyers for the poor. I was in a right state, runnin´ up and down the different floors and hallways of the Mews, askin´ all me friends and neighbours if me Mam was in the lockup or somewhere else. Every time one of them said they didn´t know, me heart would pound jus´ a little harder. As the last neighbour shook their head and shut the door in me face, I jus´ didn´t know what to do and jus´ sorta collapsed on the steps, bawlin´ me eyes out. It was well past half 8 and even if I went to the prison and found out that she was there, I was sure that the prison guards would jus´ take me and drag me away like so many of the prisoner´s kids and shove me into one of them workhouses. If that happened, there was no way me Mam would ever get me back. Lucky for me, Sally´s Dad saw me cryin´ on the fourth floor staircase and asked me what was wrong. When I told him, he promised me that he´d collect me before work the next morning and together, we would go down to the prison where he would ask on me behalf, keeping me right out of sight. That way, the workhouse wouldn´t get their hands on me for a little while. He was a good Dad to Sally, only belted up her Mam, not Sally herself.

Even though I was still snivellin´, I ambled back down to our room only to be gob smacked when I saw Mr. Rufus sittin´ on a chair by a fully stoked hearth. I hadn´t even known he had a key to the room and I really didn´t care at that moment, I was so bloody glad to see me friend. I slammed the door shut and jus´ ran straight at him, flew into his lap, bawlin´ all over again. He jus´ rocked me back and forth, pattin´ at me, tellin´ me that everythin´ was going to be alright an´ that he knew about me Mam. I musta cried for ages, held tight against his chest. Finally, he sat me up straight and I looked at him as he asked so he could wipe the tears from me face with one of his fancy lace handkerchiefs. He jus´ kept lookin´ at me, a strange smile on his face when he told me to close me eyes. Not sure why he wanted me to do it, I closed me eyes, waiting for a few moments when all of a sudden, he kissed me. Not on the cheek, not on me forehead or even in me nest of curls but smack bang full on the lips. Hard, with somethin´ wet tryin´ to force its way between me lips before he drew away. Me eyes flew open as I wiped at the wetness he had left on me mouth, a frown on me face as a slight uneasiness started to well up inside of me.

Unable to help meself, I yawned, prompting a small laugh from Mr. Rufus. He put me down from his lap, tellin´ me it was time for bed and that I should get some rest before visitin´ me Mam the next morning. Me chin wobblin´ as I tried not to cry again, I jus´ nodded me head and slouched off towards me Mam´s bed, draggin´ a smaller mattress from underneath and back towards the hearth. Thumpin´ it down in front of the hearth, I then took a pillow and comforter from her bed before I set about makin up me own bed under Mr. Rufus´ watchful eye. With the bed all set up, I started takin´ off me clothes when, imagine me surprise, Mr. Rufus gets off his chair to lend me a hand. I told him outright that I was old enough to dress meself, makin´ him smile all the more. Mr. Rufus told me he was helpin´ only because I was so tired and even as I started tellin´ him again that I could do it, a huge yawn almost split me face in two. So, I jus´ stood quietly and let him undress me, after all, he was right, I was too tired. As it was, it took Mr. Rufus ages to get all me clothes off and me under the covers. I was so bloody tired, I didn´t care about his hands wanderin´ that night, even when he kept touchin´ me between me backside, was too worried about Mam and anyway, Mr Rufus was me friend. With his friendship in mind, I begged him to stay with me until I was asleep, givin´ him a sleepy smile when he promised to stay the whole night. As worried as I was, I found meself driftin´ off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Mr. Rufus really did care about me and that if anyone could help me Mam, Mr. Rufus could.

I don´t know how long I had been asleep when I was woken all of a sudden, a touch to me face jerkin´ me outta a deep sleep. Lookin´ up, in the dim light of the dying hearth, I saw Mr. Rufus kneelin´ over me, not wearin´ a stitch of clothing. Confused, I looked around me, seein´ all his fine clothing scattered on the floor around me bed. Without a word, he slowly sank down onto me saggy mattress, ripping the bedcovers from around me body with one hard tug. Shocked, I froze, not knowing what was going on. Mr. Rufus kept shifting around on the bed before he got himself more comfortable, turnin´ his whole body towards me even as he kept playing with the old fella between his legs. As he turned to face me properly, I saw what he was doin´ with himself and I knew all about the funny milk that would come from his todger if he kept playin with himself, I´ve seen it all too often with Mam´s blokes. It´s horrible, some of them blokes leak over the floor, the rug beside the bed, all over the bed and sometimes, they leak on me Mam. Once, I saw a bloke leak in Mam´s mouth. I don´t think she liked it, she spat it into the rag she keeps under her pillow.

A shiver flew through me body and don´t ask me how, but I jus´ knew what Mr. Rufus was doin´ was wrong. Tryin´ to ignore him, I closed me eyes again and rolled over on me side, away from him. I feigned sleep, listening to him grunt and pant to himself, and all the while he kept touching me hair and running his hand over me backside. His petting got heavier and before long, he was pokin´ between me backside, touchin´ me hole. Every time he poked at me hole, I wriggled away from him, I jus´ didn´t like it and I didn´t want him to touch me there. Jus´ didn´t feel right for him to be doin´ that.

All of a sudden, I felt his large hands grab me, hauling me towards him. Surprised, I didn´t struggle with him, letting him place me flat on me back. Still, I couldn´t help but ask him what he was doin´ when he spread me legs, lowering himself on top of me. Slag. Dirty little boy, I was called by me friend. Told me how I had been teasin´ him for months with the whore ways I had learnt from me Mam. Mr. Rufus kissed me again and this time, I started to push at him to get off me, tellin´ him that he was heavy and I couldn´t breathe properly. All the while, in between him sayin´ I was gonna live at his place in the country now that Mam was in prison, he kept tryin´ to thrust his tongue into me mouth. I was goin´ to be his ´boy´ and how he was hopin´ that a bit of rough would last longer than the soft little half noble lad he had purchased from some desperate scullery maid only the year before. Before he had become ´besotted´ with me after seein´ me for the first time. Told me that if I was lucky, it wouldn´t hurt much for the first few times and that I would end up liking it. Mr. Rufus laughed when he said that me Mam musta been stupid to think he would pay her outrageous sale price for me. I swear, I was almost pissin´ meself in fright at this point, wasn´t till later that I realised I really had let meself go. I had no idea what had gotten into me friend, Mr. Rufus, why he was being so horrible to me. With his heavy hands, he yanked painfully at me todger and without thinking, I bit down hard on his tongue as he forced it inside me mouth, causin´ Mr. Rufus to scream in agony. As soon as he screamed, I did as well, callin´ for me Mam... anyone... to come and help me, biting at whatever part of Mr. Rufus got near me mouth.

The sound musta woken everyone up because before I knew it, the door was broken down and the room was filled with people pullin´ Mr. Rufus from on top of me. There were hands reachin for me from all angles but, with the comforter half wrapped around me naked body, I dodged them all and jus´ ran. Ran from me room, down the stairs, out of the Mews and into the bitterly cold night. Heedless to all the pleas from me friends to come back, I ran down the street. I kept running until I reached the one place where I knew without a doubt, I would be safe. Tremblin´ in fright and with a shaky hand, I knocked on the front door of one of Mam´s oldest customers. A professional thief and forger, but someone who had always treated Mam and me with kindness and respect. Old Jervis always had a sweet ready for me and a coin for Mam, no matter how much he may have needed it himself. He had always told me to come straight to him if anythin´ happened to Mam and so, that night, I asked for his shelter and within a few minutes, I had a hot cup of tea and a warm bed waiting for me. Jervis sat me down and asked me what had happened and I told him, told him everything, even what Mr. Rufus had said and done to me. Never seen Jervis angry before but that night, he was ready to boil over. He promised to take care of me until I was full grown and then some. I never went back to me Mam´s room, not even for one scrap of clothing, Jervis wouldn´t let me. Threatened to turn me over to the workhouse if I so much as looked down me old street again. Was scared stupid that he would, so I did as I was told, didn´t go outta the house an´ hid meself away whenever someone came over.

It was only a few day´s later that I learnt that Mam had been sentenced to two years in a prison workhouse. Jervis wouldn´t talk about her, would get a dark look on his face an´ jus´ shake his head at me, not even when I begged him to. Wouldn´t let me see her either, nor was I allowed to muck about outside with the older ´prentices. He would give the other ´prentice´s a good belting whenever one of them would start talking about her or Mr. Rufus. Mind you, every time they did, I jus´ kept bursting into tears. Heartsick I was about not bein´ with Mam. Not only that, no matter what Mr. Rufus had tried to do to me, I jus´ wanted to see me friend. Ask him to make things right again. One night, about two weeks after I arrived, Jervis came back from a job, drunk as a Lord and in the darkest mood I had ever seen him in. Me an´ all the other lads were sitting down in the kitchen in front of the fire, eatin´ our dinner when Jervis jus´ took a knife from one of the boy´s hands and slashed at me face. As one, the others jus´ screamed in fright, instantly cowering away from Jervis. Didn´t feel it at first and sorta wondered what the hell had happened but like a flash of lightening, the pain jus´ struck me. I almost howled the house down as I danced around with both me hands clapped over me eye, blood dripping everywhere. Jervis ordered one of the older boys to fix me up, tellin´ him to do the worst job he could while keepin´ it clean. Even as I was bawlin´, the bastard told me that one day, I would thank him for it. Hurt like hell for days afterwards, didn´t go near Jervis unless I needed to for weeks, and I was wary of him for all time because of it. Was sure he was jus´ gonna go at me with a knife again. He would watch me at times, starin´ at the livid scar spoilin´ both me eyebrow and me once perfect looks. Wasn´t the small scar there is these days, it was an angry red slash that twisted me left eyelid so that it drooped all funny like, always ensuring that it drew people´s pityin´ attention even as they still revelled in how blue me eyes were. They would look at me cheekbones and angelic blond curls, tellin´ me how pretty they were while sayin´ it was pity that me scar made such a mess of me face. Was because of Angelus and him Claiming me that it´s mostly fixed and ever so ´appealing´ now, but that´s another story. Still stuck with Jervis though, nowhere else to go and ´cause of Mam shelterin´ me somewhat, I didn´t have a trade to fall back on so as to earn me a livin´. Didn´t understand for years why he did it. Always thought Jervis resented me beggin´ him to take me in.

Still, I hated to have no–one near me at all times after what Mr. Rufus had done to me an´ even though I didn´t trust Jervis as far as I could throw the fat bugger, if I had ever been given a choice of bein´ alone or sittin´ next to Jervis... Jervis woulda won hands down every bloody time. Tell the truth, I never really trusted any bloke after bein´ slashed by Jervis.

Wasn´t until I was a half grown lad of almost 12 and celebrating a profitable outin´ with Jervis that I learnt what Mr. Rufus had really wanted with me. Don´t know why Jervis chose that night to tell me the truth about Mam´s part in it all, think maybe the drink had loosened him up a little. Maybe, from the way he was lookin´ at me, his guilt at cuttin´ me overcame him. In a soft voice, full of regret, he told me that he hadn´t gone on a little thievin´ exercise that night and instead, he had gone to visit me Mam in prison. He had gone to ask her how much she wanted for me so that she would forget she had ever had a son and wouldn´t try to organise a sale from prison. Me Mam told him that I was hers to do what she wanted with and if she wanted to apprentice me out as a stable boy to a country Lord who happened to have a certain fondness for young boys, then it was her right to do so. Told him that it was me beautiful face that would pay her fines and allow her to set herself up as a respectable business woman once out of prison. After visiting me Mam, Jervis had sat in one of the local inns, drinkin´ away while he wondered what to do with me. Said, all he could think of was Mam tellin´ him how me face was goin´ to pay her way to a new life. Few more hours of solid drinkin´ and Jervis had known how to secure me a better future than what Mam and Mr. Rufus had in mind. And that´s why Jervis had decided to take a knife to me face, to give me chance at a half decent life. He was right, I did thank him for it, especially when he told me what Mr. Rufus would have done with me that night if no one had come to help me. I was sick to the bottom of me gut, sat at the table with me stomach heavin away. Still makes me sick, after all this time, jus´ to think about it. A puckered, knotted scar threadin´ its way through me eyebrow and spoilin´ me looks was a small price to pay for bein´ alive. You see, word was that Mr. Rufus´ boys often had fatal ´accidents´. Found out that Mr. Rufus had set me Mam up so that he wouldn´t have to pay for me an´ that´s how he got the key to me room. Jervis never told me how much I was worth but I guess it must have been pretty steep because when I couldn´t stop meself from askin´, he jus´ looked at me and shook his head.

For days I was heartsick for me Mam all over again. Jus´ hearin´ about her dragged up memories of all the good times I´d had with her and I missed her somethin´ terrible. Went wild, I did. Turned into a right proper street brawler and it wasn´t long before I was winnin´ all me fights, too. Earned meself a reputation as scrappy little bugger, an´ a bit of a nutter as well, at times. As for the thievin´, turned out to be one of the best. How I met Angelus, once more, another story. No longer had to worry about keepin´ meself nice for when Mam came to get me again. Realising that you had almost been sold into sexual slavery made you kinda mad at the world and to find out that your own mother had bloody planned it, well, that probably explains the parenting issues that I have with that wanker Angelus.

Even after I learnt she was nothin´ more than an evil, cold hearted bitch, only interested in keepin´ me nice and soft all those years so she could earn herself a new life through sellin´ me virgin arse for a profit... I couldn´t bring meself to hate her.

Couldn´t, she was me Mam an´ I loved her.

So yeah, I know *all* about bein´ a whore.

I *am* a whore.

Look Mam, look at what your little blue eyed Will has become.

He´s in the family business now, jus´ like you wanted. If not for money, then for blood and a sheltering roof over his muddled up head.

As he stroked at the hard bulge between the sleeping boy´s legs, Spike shivered, feeling an icy finger trailing its way down his back.

Unable to help himself, Spike started sobbing as he realised his life had completed its full circle. He had fulfilled Fate´s plans, Spike filling the vacancy that had been reserved for him even if he had managed to escape it momentarily by slipping out the door all those years ago.

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