Title: The Soldier Diaries: Relative Issues: Part Four: Lay Down The Law

Author: Buffywatcher

Feedback: Constructive comments always welcome: jinxascendant@hotmail.com

Pairing: Spike/Angel (Sort of. You'll see

Rating: Strong R to possibly NC-17ish

Spoilers: Perhaps some incidental references but nothing major.

Warnings: Character death in this one (You don't see any details). There's Violence, M/M relationship, strong language...Bit of uncomfortable ickiness here or there...The usual goodies.

Disclaimer: Just borrowing them for a bit of harmless fun. All characters, recognisable likenesses are retained by their owner and accredited license holders.

Writer's Notes: This story takes place in an AU setting. This one is going to contain a bit of a twist to the usual Vampiric driven storylines so I hope that doesn't offend too much. This series will also bring forth the fact that Step-siblings can be lovers but if that goes a bit too far for your moral fibre I'd suggest giving this story a pass. Please excuse any minor discrepancies or artist license. As always thanks are going out to GF, MarieC, Luba, and Mera my most excellent group of Beta/Editors.

Writer's Dedication: This story if for Stony, my own favourite Muse and Beta/Editor Ghostsforge, since it was his Challenge that gave me the idea for it and he helped with the outline concepts that drive this little tale.

Writer's Credits: This story features the song Once in a lifetime by Sarah Brightman.

Distribution: If I've already been given permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I haven't and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email me and tell me where it's going so I can visit.

Summary: The battle for Humanity's future is about to begin but for a pair of Stepbrothers unexpectedly reunited on the frontlines it's about to become a relative issue.
 

Story Relevant Symbol Key:

*Character Thoughts*

~Flashback Sequence~
 

Chapter One

Liam brings the motorcycle to a smooth stop and before he can blink, Spike is off the motorcycle, stowing his helmet and reclaiming his gear and weapons. He looks up with a smile that looks like a month of cotton candy Sunday carnivals has come to town.

"There will be good hunting here tonight, I can feel it." Spike says with a ghost of a smile dartingly fleetingly across his lips before turning away from the graveyard to face Liam.

He quickly shows Liam how to stow his helmet and secure the motorcycle, set and control its security features before opening the other saddle compartment and removing another set of weapons. He holds them out with a flourish and a smile as Liam eagerly grabs them and checks them over before holstering them.

Liam smoothes his hands over the carved stake, it's a triumph of craftsmanship. "These are marvellous, but how did you know my preferences?" He asks ghosting is hand over the compact semi-automatic holstered at his thigh.

"I noted the makes and models when I stayed over and then I had a word with Gunn. He has several more conventional designs that are very similar to what you favour and it was simple to modify a couple to accept the modified Vampire killer bullets he's developed. These are a little something special." Spike says tapping the holstered weapon.

"The outer casing is a silver nitrate composite with a liquid core of emulsified holy water that encapsulates a tiny inner mechanism containing a small charge and a wooden core. Upon entry, the inner mechanism fires, propelling the holy water emulsion and the wooden core inside the target. It's designed so that the initial impact causes the wooden core to splinter and shred, to better suspend in the holy water matrix. Even if you should miss getting a heart shot, the bullets will inject their contents and the Vampire will suffer systemic damage." Wil explains as he braces a hand on Liam's shoulder.

"Two of these bullets should be enough to take down most fledglings. It could take as many as four to six to bring down a Master. We're unlikely to encounter many if any tonight though. They're relatively rarely encountered outside of a lair. They usually send their minions out to bring back prey rather than hunt themselves. Some of the oldest of the old ones may not be very vulnerable to it at all." Wil drops his hand. "Penn wasn't affected by it all until Anya got a lucky shot in." He says softly as he turns his back.

Liam's brow furrows in confusion. "Giles mentioned a Penn, I think. He was a True Hunter that was turned right? Some sort of great Uncle of yours or something?"

"Yes or something." Spike says softly. He feels a hand curve over his bicep and his eyes slip closed. "Penn was a True Hunter, as Giles told you, a member of the same bloodline that produced me. He was taken centuries ago by Drusilla the Seer, a very old Vampire and the favourite of the Heinrich Nest, The Master of the Aurelius Order, one of the oldest and most powerful Vampire lineages. In time they became mates as well as Sire and Childe. When Nest was destroyed, it was Penn's strength that enabled Drusilla to become the new Master of the Aurelius Order. Drusilla always fancied herself as a great power, but in truth The Master had broken her mind long ago, it was Penn who is the true power behind the throne of Aurelius." Spike's voice is unemotional and cool but his eyes blaze like twin suns.

"He wanted you. Giles told us that demons, Vampires in particular were drawn to True Hunters. He said that until you they had all been...taken." Liam finds his hands closing over Spike's shoulders and pulling him back to rest against his chest. Everything in him demands that he protect Wil, wants to pick him up and run away with him, keep him safe from the eyes and hands of others.

"Giles told you the truth Liam. He just left out the fact that True Hunters are always drawn together when they meet. It doesn't matter if one of them is a Demon...the attraction is there." Wil says brokenly. "A True Hunter that has been turned has never taken another as Childer. One True Hunter turned is power enough for any bloodline, a coup unsurpassed for any Order. If an Order should ever secure the loyalty and power of two...it doesn't bear thinking about." Wil turns to face Liam, looking up at him and lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. "You'll take care of it, won't you, Pet? You wouldn't let that happen to me." He says tenderly.

Liam looks horrified as he realises just what Wil is asking of him. "Oh God, don't ask me to do that...I don't think that I could. Vampire or not, it would still be you...everything you've been telling me about Vampires..." Liam breathes raggedly. "Could you kill...dust me if I get turned?"

"On the day that you're turned Liam, is the day that I die, because they'll have to kill me to get to you." Spike says vehemently, but then stops to consider what he's asked him very carefully and suddenly his heart knows the answer. "No, I couldn't kill you. There are certain spells and incantations that can restore a soul. They've never been tried before, but in theory they should work. I would ask Giles to try...if that should fail; then you'll learn to deal with the Demon, control it. I could help you learn how to do that; years of lessons at controlling my instincts and using them as opposed to them using me. You could feed from me, Hunter blood is very potent, a little from me would be like a feast of others." Suddenly Liam finds himself on his back, fingering a tender jaw with Spike straddling his hips. "You just had to make me think about that didn't you?"

Liam tenderly opens and closes his mouth to ease the stinging pain. "Well you made me think about it first!" Liam growls shoving his hand up and gasping as the world spins violently and he's lifted to his feet with ridiculous ease. "Damn, just how strong are you?" Liam asks his eyes wide.

"Strong enough Mate, strong enough." Wil replies with a grin and a wink.

The pair shares a laugh as they watch the Hummer arrive and their team-mates pour out to get situated. Anya remains in the command centre, activating her equipment and proceeding with her perimeter scans.

Spike glances at Liam and receives a small and terse nod and he snaps into motion. "Let's move it people, I want your gear squared away and double checked. Buddy up and then check it again!" He growls, but there's a smile on his face as he sees that Gunn and Wesley are already falling into their usual routine and are ahead of him. "Miller, you're with the Colonel, I'll handle Finn." He barks, stalking over to the gaping pair who is managing to look a little shell-shocked. He catches Graham by the strap of his pack and gets him moving towards Liam with a flick of his wrist.

He runs his hands over Finn's gear with skilled and knowledgeable hands, stifling a grin at Riley's indignant squeals as his hands 'accidentally' stray several times to sensitive areas only to dance away within seconds. He shakes his head over the deplorable quality of Finn's gear and hurriedly finishes the check over, with a solid slap between Finn's shoulders that sends him rocketing forward to meet Miller as Liam launches him forward. He's back at Liam's shoulder within a few seconds, grinning faintly, letting his lashes shield the unholy light in his eyes. The call of the hunt is pulling at his blood and sending fire raining through veins.

Liam almost smiles as he looks over his shoulder at Wil, he can almost imagine a long cat's tail whipping the air behind him. He glances at the others and sees that they're also prepared and looking anxious to begin. He turns back and catches Wil's eyes and a silent message passes between them.

"Command overrides, Spike Alpha two, mic status to open and lock." A soft tone sounds in their ears at Spike's order, betraying that their com-units have all been locked to an open channel. "Anya, lock it down and security protocols to active." Spike orders. "Call the numbers."

"Affirmative, Sir." Anya replies as the Hummer's security features activate and the doors lock and the outer skin pulses with ten thousand volts. "Security measures implemented, control is in lockdown, Sir." Anya replies professionally. "Scans verify twelve Vampires, one Grathlok, and two Khitins in a pond 1.2 north." Anya's voice sounds softly in their ears. "Colonel, I'd recommend Spike take the Grathlok, it's unlikely that any of you would have run into one if you're still breathing."

"Alright Gunn, you're in charge, take Price, Finn, and Miller to take out the Vampires. I'll back Spike up with the Grathlok and then we'll converge at the pond." Liam orders decisively.

"Affirmative, Sir." Gunn says with a nod. He quickly gets his squad of four on the move as Anya quietly relays the coordinates.

Liam turns to Wil and his lips curl up into a patently wicked grin. "Find me a Grathlok and show me how to kill it."

"You sure know how to show a bloke a good time." Wil grins and gathers his powerful legs under him and leaps forward into a full out run, with a whooping Liam hot on his trail...or is that tail?

Anya shakes her head and wonders if those two could possibly make any more noise to scare off the local night dwellers?
 

Chapter Two

Liam chases after Wil, amazed by how fast and nimble the not much younger man is. He's always prided himself on his physical conditioning, knowing that any weakness on his part could be exploited and get him killed, but Wil's prowess puts that to shame.

"Christ, does he even need to breathe?" He pants in disgust as he pounds after the fleet-footed blond.

He hears the soft trickle of laughter in his ear and grimaces as he forgets their channels have been locked open. Everyone heard that, including Wil judging by the caress of a familiar chuckle in his ear.

"You're doing better than we do when we try to follow him in full pursuit mode. Wesley and I have the most luck, but you're doing better than we are judging by my scanners." Anya says soothingly and he feels marginally better. "Colonel, Spike gave you some of our modified cartridge rounds?"

"He's got my spare set Anya. The Walther is carrying a field standard variegated clip." Spike saves him the trouble of responding. Liam scowls...the son of a bitch doesn't even sound winded and he feels like he's going to pass out from lack of oxygen as he tries to keep up and talk at the same time.

"Excellent!" Anya says happily. "The first six rounds are standard wooden core liquid holy water matrix explosive heads, that's what we want. Liam, when Spike engages the Grathlok he'll have to take it on hand to hand, so to speak. They're heavily armoured and vulnerable in only a relatively limited area below their throat plates, for a four inch gap before their torso armour plating begins. Let Wil engage it and he'll move it into position for you to get some shots off. This is very important Liam; you need to make sure at least three of those six bullets penetrate. Anything less won't kill it and it will go into a berserker rage and kill anything it comes across. Spike's never taken one on in a full out fight and we're not sure how he'd fare against one if he tries to fight it on its own terms. Spike is strong but Grathloks are killing and feeding machines with very minimal vulnerabilities."

Up ahead he hears something that sounds mysteriously like a roar as Spike dives into a clearing and the sounds of a brutal fight, punctuated by an eerie hollow sounding clicking shriek and growls, reach his ears. He forces his body to give him that last ounce of speed and he explodes into the clearing, falters and falls to one knee at the horrible sight that welcomes him.

The beast is huge, looking like a grotesque cross between a man and a black spider, dripping with a clear slime that reeks of ammonia and causes his eyes to water almost painfully. It walks on two thick legs, not unlike an elephant's balancing an obscenely bloated thorax and abdomen. Four slender black legs, each topped with a wickedly barbed stabbing claw, extend out from the torso and angle outward to provide stability for the monstrosity. Two overdeveloped legs jut out from the almost human looking torso, if one discounted the clearly insectoid carapace protecting it. Instead of having hands, the arms sport wickedly razor-edged claws, not unlike a scorpion's though the edges are serrated more like a crab's claws. The head is truly nightmare inspiring, with its gaping maw full of pointed, snapping teeth, gruesome sabre-toothed fangs dripping some noxious purplish-green fluid and a ring of lidless, red pupil black eyes that seem to be looking every direction at once.

A creature spawned by the nightmares of Hell itself and his insane Stepbrother, never hesitated to throw himself at it. Though he has to admit, as he watches Spike dart, jump, leap, duck and weave among the flashing fangs, claws and legs with inhuman speed and agility, that it could be an almost even match. He is as deadly as he is beautiful and for several seconds he can only stand and stare transfixed at the sight, but he quickly recovers his wits and remembers what he has to do, Anya's words replaying in his mind.

He braces himself solidly, raising the gun Spike gave to him with an easy and practiced grace and he reaches deep for that inner calm and gently thumbs off the safety.

"I'm ready Wil." He carefully tracks his target's movements never taking his eyes off the spot Anya told him to look for and waits and lets Spike do the rest.

He watches as Spike darts forward planting his palms into the ground and angling his body up into a devastating kick that catches the monstrosity in the hollow of its throat, throwing its head up and back with enough force to have broken bones in anything but a Demon. Taking a shallow breath and holding it, he squeezes the tripper gently and a cold smile curves his lips as it rips through the pulpy flesh right on target. Its instinctual rearing in pain and he sees the chance for a second shot and again he smiles as his skills serve him well and Spike flips clear.

The next few minutes are tense, but by working together the last and final of the shots hits its mark and Spike leaps into a roll, regaining his feet and exploding into a run before the body of the Grathlok even hits the ground. Liam makes a startled sound as Spike ploughs into him, catching a shoulder against his abs and tossing him easily over a shoulder and sprinting several feet away without slowly or showing any strain despite carrying his weight. He ducks behind a nearby crypt and sets him down with his chest heaving only slightly, ignoring Liam's affronted look of ire as he slowly extends the graceful fingers of one hand. One...two...three...four...and an agonised shriek rips through the night air and the sound of suspiciously wet sounding plops that have Liam glad he can't see what's making those sounds from where they are.

Spike leans around the crypt carefully, not exposing anymore than absolutely necessary, but after a second he nods and walks around the corner. "We have a confirmed termination of one Grathlok." Spike says sounding disgustingly chipper and nonchalant about the whole thing, Liam thinks as he follows him. He takes one look at the twitching remains of the beast and the parts and fluids dripping from the surroundings and he's glad that he decided not to eat before duty.

"They explode?!" He growls disgusted.

"They're highly allergic to holy water and wood, but one or the other is rarely fatal. If you combine the two...as you can see, the results are fairly explosive. Mind the gooey bits; it's highly corrosive to skin and most fabrics." Spike says nimbly hop-scotching over the puddles of faintly glowing fluid and bits of flesh.

"What are you doing? I'd say having most of its body blown over a twenty square foot area means that it is pretty dead." Liam grimaces with disgust as he follows slowly and carefully, he surreptiously pulls his T-shirt over his nose, filtering the overwhelming order of ammonia somewhat.

"We have to check out something. We need to be sure that this is the only one." Spike growls, his sensitive nose taking quite the pounding in the noxious atmosphere of ammonia laced demon bits. He finally reaches the carcass and pulls a razor-sharp knife from his boot, and to Liam's disgust, quickly field dissects the remains. After several minutes, he finally rears back with a grimace, waves Liam to get clear and follows him well away from the clearing.

They keep walking by silent agreement, until they're well away from the foul smelling clearing, before stopping. Spike kneels and sets his knife down, pulls a small canteen from the small of his back and thoroughly washes off the weapon before closing the canteen, replacing it and uses some overgrown grass to dry the knife carefully. Once it's clean, he replaces it in his boot sheathe and they resume walking towards the pond where they were going to meet the others.

"It wasn't a fully grown and judging from its reproductive organs and size, I'd say it was an immature male, a good decade from breeding age. I don't think we need to look for a mate as it was too young to breed and their territorial instincts would have lead them to exterminate any of their kind in their hunting grounds. You'll only find more than one if they're of breeding age and setting up a nest. I don't think we need to worry about that in this case, given how aggressive that bastard was." Spike explains for Liam's benefit but knowing that Anya who is monitoring their com channels will hear as well and make a note for their report.

"So...do you do that kind of stuff often?" Liam asks; motioning behind them towards the carnage they've left.

Spike looks over at him and smirks briefly. "Well it's usually not that much fun, but yeah. Fortunately it wasn't fully grown yet, but it was strong, usually two bullets would have been enough to cause the reaction in a juvenile."

"So you're telling me that was what...a BABY??" Liam exclaims.

"Well more like a toddler I suppose." Spike says with a chuckle. "Adults are twice that size, they spit corrosive venom and their spinnerets are fully developed, so you have to watch for them to shoot silk too. I've only fought a couple of them, but you did a damn good job with those shots, none of us could have done any better under the circumstances. You can watch my back any day." Spike says cupping his shoulder and giving it a squeeze before letting it fall away and quickening his pace just a bit.

"Anya, call the base and get a hazardous materials crew out here." Liam orders absentmindedly as he watches Spike walking a couple of feet ahead, with his graceful and curiously silently stalking stride and he shivers. It's a really, really nice back...
 

Chapter Three

They meet up with the others at a small manmade lake at the quiet and almost picturesque northern end of the cemetery. Liam stifles a growl as Finn immediately moves over to stand well within Spike's personal space.

"What can you tell us about Khitins?" He asks, forcing himself not to snap at Finn and tell him to back off.

"They're usually inoffensive and harmless to humans, content to live peaceful lives of foraging and rearing their young. They're usually found in small related pods of six to ten members and only unhealthy or wounded ones are ever encountered as solitary wanderers." Anya explains. "They look a bit like a bipedal Siamese fighting fish. They however do enter a vicious phase when they are a young breeding pair that has split from their birth pod in order to establish their own."

"If that is the case with these two, than they'll aggressively defend what they see as their territory against any and all intruders. They'll kill anyone that gets too close to their breeding grounds, until after they have spawned and raised their first litter of young. If these two are in their aggressive phase, they'll have to be made to leave for an unpopulated area...or barring that, they'll need to be destroyed for public safety." Wesley says; the tone of his voice actually somewhat saddened by the idea of destroying the beings merely for living according to their natures, which at any other phase of their lives would be benignly peaceful.

"How do we determine what we're dealing with here?" Miller asks; intrigued despite his distrust of these unorthodox strangers he's found himself assigned to working with.

Wesley looks at Spike who sighs and nods, pulls his knife from his boot and steps to the water's edge and draws it viciously across his palm with a swift single motion. He makes no sound of pain or distress, just a low throaty thrumming sound that rises and falls rhythmically.

"It's alright; he'll heal in a minute." Wesley says hurriedly, catching hold of Finn's shoulder and stopping him as he makes to charge towards Spike, as Liam tenses, bites back a cry and holds his position. He watches carefully, sighing in relief as the blood flow slows and stops after a minute and Spike kneels and cleans the blade off before replacing it in his boot sheathe.

After a minute, a small patch of bubbles appears and a little farther out, another patch appears and Spike slowly backs up until he's drawn even with Liam, who reaches out and carefully turns his palm over. He angles it into the moonlight and smoothes his thumb over the unmarked skin for a second, before squeezing his hand and releasing it with a nod.

"There they are." Spike says quietly and they all watch as a head pokes up shyly out of the water. It looks only vaguely humanoid, having a pair of large lidless black eyes and a head that is mostly definitely that of a fish with a fan of prehensile fins in place of hair. Fluttering gills pulse rhythmically in the side of its neck, but the rising and falling of its concave chest betrays it as having the lungs of a true amphibian. It is a mixture of soft shades of blue, green, and silver as more of it emerges from the water. They can see that it has arms ending in gracefully webbed hands, a tunic of woven water grasses it's only covering. It has legs, though much more slender and sleekly fashioned than a human's and their feet are long, tapering to graceful webbed-toed flippers. It is actually a strangely beautiful creature despite its alien appearance. A soft thrumming sound not unlike Spike was making earlier washes over them.

"Lower your weapons; put your hands up slowly and keep them well clear of them." Spike says, his voice clearly conveying that he is not making a request, as he does it first and one by one they follow suit. Wesley steps forward, his hand held out to the sides palm first, making the same sounds as Spike was, but interspersed with a soft humming or whistling. The being relaxes marginally and replies in the same musical language before turning to look over its shoulder and whistling a piercing call that is just this side of painful to their human ears but that causes Spike to wince slightly. They watch in amazement as a smaller and clearly significantly younger Khitin sharing the same coloration appears and swims into the lap of the first, to be cuddled in its parent's lap.

"It's alright, they're both females. They're non-lethal to humans and benign for the most part." Spike says quietly. "They mean us no harm."

Around him the others relax as Wesley and the parent converse for a few moments. At one point, Spike shoot Finn and Miller an angry glance and growls quietly, but he makes no move to approach either of them. The pair shares a nervous glance and looks faintly uneasy. After a few minutes the unusual beings return to their watery home and Wesley comes over to talk to Liam and Spike, Gunn meeting him partway and walking over with him.

"It's a pair of females, a mother and an immature female. They were part of a pod that lived in a lake on the east side of town but it seems most of them were taken by The Initiative. This female, her Mate, an older juvenile male and the young female were the only ones to escape. The Mate led them to safety here during a rainstorm where they've lived ever since. The males went out to forage one night and they never returned and it's likely they were also captured in the Initiative's sweeps. These two are non-offensive and she is just trying to raise her remaining offspring before her seasons are over. She has asked for permission to remain here until her young one can fend for itself."

"Before her seasons are over?" Liam questions.

"Khitins are neither truly immortal as with some species nor are they even truly Demons at all. Men have just found it easier to classify beings they cannot understand as 'demons'. They have very long life spans, some can live to be a thousand or more but the elder female is nearing the end of her life cycle. She has no more than a year perhaps two, barely enough time to teach her offspring to fend for itself. I told her that we were not the evil ones that took her Mate and other offspring and that we would not capture or kill them. She has agreed to wait for the next storm and then she will lead her remaining offspring back to their former lake home. There are no humans living near there and there may be some survivors that can take in the young one. I told her that we will be back to check after the next storm and that she must be gone or we cannot guarantee their lives." Wesley explains.

"Very good, I'll note that in my report. That was an excellent job." Liam praises. He can see why Spike was upset at the pair of former Initiative officers.

"I'd like permission to maintain a dialogue with the female Sir. Their species are very talented in the creation of certain healing potions that could prove valuable for research purposes." Wesley explains. "They are naturally empathic and many possess a gift for sympathetic healing and a desire to assist creatures that are hurt or in pain."

"Ahhh that's why you had Wil cut his hand, they sensed something was injured and were drawn to look and see if they could help." Liam realises and Wesley nods with a smile pleased that Liam caught on so quickly. "I'll have to clear your request with the Commander, but I will recommend that you be allowed to do it." Liam says patting his shoulder. "Well done again. Let's do a final sweep then proceed to our next zone." They split into their teams and melt back into the night.
 

Chapter Four

The tired pair slips into the Raintree Café with tired yawns and footsteps weary with exhaustion. They smile and wave to Roxie who smiles warmly at them from where she's taking an order for a pair of truckers. She motions them to go back to the booth that has become 'their' booth, Roxie and her Husband Kevin, even going so far as to put up a small reserved for family plaque up to make sure the table is always available.

Kevin pats their shoulders as they pass by headed for the booth, stopping to say a fond hello to the kindly older man. They slide into the booth and scoot around until they're sitting side by side against the thickly padded rear of the semi-circular booth and lean their shoulder wearily against each other.

"We haven't had so many terminations in one night since our early days here." Liam says wearily. "They were crawling out of the woodwork tonight that's for sure. I've never seen some of those species either, I'm glad that you guys had though."

"Wesley and Giles will be starting their lecture series soon and you'll be up to speed on all the species we've encountered. Including which are harmless and which ones are actually helpful." Spike says stifling a tiny yawn.

"Do you think that your arrival here has caused the increase in activity?" Liam asks seriously.

"I think the arrival of someone has. Whether it's me or the fact the head of the Watchers Council is here, the fact we're helping you, or something altogether different, it's safe to assume that something has changed the status quo around here. We should hit some of the Demon bars and ask a few questions, see what we can find out." Spike says with a shrug but he doesn't seem overly concerned and Liam's not sure if that doesn't actually worry him more, that he seems used to all this.

"Demon bars?" Liam asks, surprised but somewhat intrigued.

Spike chuckles and shakes his head. "You've been in this town for how long and you don't know that this town has no less than six Demon clubs, as many bars, and several other assorted Demon-owned and attended businesses? This town has been built as much by the Demons as the Humans. I would have thought that you would have learned that much from dismantling the Initiative."

"By the time we arrived in force, they had destroyed nearly all of their records. We've been able to recover less than five percent of their database and of that meagre amount we've learned nothing." Liam says disgusted. "Most of the scientists were either dead, dying, or had been warned in time to make their escape from the country, no doubt with help from contacts inside the government. Most of the soldiers had been killed or had escaped with the scientists; very few remained behind and were arrested and court-martialled soon after, like Finn and his cronies. As you may have noticed, their little stint in Antarctica was short-lived thanks to some corrupt officials."

"With the intelligence the Council has amassed on the Initiative's South American operations, I don't think that Senator Wilkins will be much trouble when the President is through with him. I believe that Giles also had an offer to make to the President that will ensure that the Initiative's influence here is squelched once and for all." Spike says confidently but it's clear from his voice that he doesn't tend to elaborate any more than he has on the topic already.

Liam accepts that with good grace and smiles at Kevin as he strolls over to greet them with a smile. Since they've been coming here, almost every night since Spike arrived; the kindly couple has taken to them like ducks to water and treats them like welcome relatives.

"It's been a long night Boys? You look like you've been down a mile of bad road." The kindly man says, concern and caring shining from his warm green eyes.

"It felt like riding in a car with no brakes." Liam says with a sigh.

"And we hit all the potholes." Spike says with a twin sigh.

"You just sit tight and relax and we'll take care of the food and then you can head home and get some sleep. What are you in the mood for tonight boys? Roxie's pot roast has been simmering all day and it's so tender it's flaking off the forks." Kevin replies with a sympathetic smile.

"That sounds wonderful." Spike says with a grateful smile and Liam nods sharing the sentiment.

"Would you like it served over mashed potatoes, wild rice pilaf, or roasted potatoes?" Kevin asks.

"I'll have the mashed potatoes." Spike says after a moment.

"I think I'll have the roasted potatoes." Liam decides right after him.

"I'll bring out some orange juice and milk when I bring out some appetisers." Kevin says with a smile and both men chuckle and nod.

Roxie's made their diets her personal territory, up to and including their woeful lack of proper 'fighting weight' which she blames on bad cooks and poor nutrition. That their meals will be accompanied by orange juice and milk is a given as immutable as steel. They both know that the end of their meal will indubitably be accompanied by a carafe of rich old fashioned cocoa, as their mutual disdain for coffee is well known, and a box of assorted sampler sized desserts will accompany them in neat little to go boxes.

"We've got a terrific split pea with ham soup tonight, would you like to start with that?"

"That actually sounds wonderful." Liam says with a smile and chuckles as Spike nods frantically in agreement. "You can definitely tell that winter is well on the way. We'll both have the soup."

Kevin notes the order and bustles off to the kitchens while they talk quietly, leaning against each other in mute testimonial to a very busy night. Roxie stops by and chats briefly but the weekend crowd is still going strong despite the late, or early depending on your point of view, hour and she can't stay long.

They enjoy their food and are quietly sipping their cocoa and chuckling over the packed boxes of desserts that Roxie has thoughtfully provided; of what must be a small sample of every non-frozen dessert they have tonight; when Spike groans and starts rubbing his temple.

"We're about to get visitors." He says with a fatalistic sigh. Sure enough within just a second or two they can hear the soft tinkling tones of the small bell over the front door. Liam glances at Spike and raises his eyebrows in silent inquiry but before he can answer, the answers present themselves.

"Well fancy meeting you here." Finn says with a patently fake smile as he stops in front of their table with Forrest and Miller in tow. Miller looks faintly apologetic while Forrest looks disdainful and arrogant towards Spike but manages a respectful nod to Liam.

Liam doesn't miss the dismissing glance that Forrest shoots Spike, nor the amusement that twinkles in the blond's eyes at the predictable response.

"What is your defect Corporal? If you have something to say to my Stepbrother feel free to say it or shall we wait for the court-martial?" Liam snaps, eyes narrowed and glinting dangerously.

"Step...Stepbrother, Colonel?" Forrest says with a stutter and an audible swallow as he realises that he's likely just signed away any hope of a continuing career anywhere outside the frozen wasteland of Antarctica.

Miller reacts quickly and muscles Forrest away from the table and shoves him less than gently into a booth some distance away while Finn looks like he's been hit with a bus. Taking advantage of his confusion and general social ineptitude, Liam takes Spike's hand and shuffles out of the booth.

"If you'll pardon us, we've got things we'd rather be doing than babysitting idiots." Liam says with a dismissive gesture as he picks up the take-out boxes and nods to Spike, who leads him out. "I'll catch up in a minute." He says and Spike looks over his shoulder and nods, turning and taking the boxes and leaving.

He heads towards the back where he can see Kevin cleaning some glasses and has a quiet word with him about the three former Initiative members. He promises to keep an eye on them and mollified Liam leaves after stopping and dropping two twenties on their table. He knows that Roxie and Kevin insist that their meals are always free, but they're always careful not to take advantage of their generosity and always pay for at least every other visit.

He pushes through the door and can't stop the growl of annoyance that claws its way out of his throat as he sees Finn hovering over Spike as he's carefully stowing their dessert boxes in one of the saddlebags. It's clear from Finn's body language that he's frustrated as Spike continues to pay no attention to him, but instead turns to smile warmly at him as he approaches.

"What does it take to get rid of you Finn, antibiotics?" He snarls, angry at himself for not looking after Wil better. He should have known Finn would follow him like a puppy begging for a pat on the head.

Finn starts to reply angrily, but the words die unspoken as fluttering fingertips caress his jaw in a fleeting caress drawing his eyes to the deep pools of eldritch blue that he instantly drowns in as they sparkle faintly in the low lights of the parking lot.

"Don't speak, listen, and understand?" Spike says softly, never letting his eyes stray from Finn's as he talks and Riley nods his head mechanically. "You will not speak to him that way. You will maintain a respectful tone at all times. If he is upset than that upsets me and you don't want to upset me, do you Riley?" He flutters his fingertips along his jaw in a subtle caress, his lips twitching in a faint smile as the spellbound man leans into the caress with a soft moan.

"No, NO, I don't want you to be upset! I want you...to be happy and pleased with me." Riley says emotionally, shaking faintly with the strain of holding in his emotions.

"He is me, I am him, what is done to him is done to me, do you understand me Finn?" Spike's voice hardens with the steel-thread of a command. "We are one, William is Liam and Liam is William, what happens to one will happen to both. You don't want to hurt me do you Finn, you want to protect me, us."

Riley takes a step closer but Spike takes a step back and brings his other hand up to press lightly against his chest in counterpoint. "No, no harm, I don't want to hurt you, I want to protect you."

"But you are hurting me Riley, you and your friend Senator Wilkins. You will tell us won't you, what his plans are? You won't let anyone hurt us will you?" Riley mechanically shakes his head, making a soft sound of distress at the very thought of injuring him. "Return inside, to your friends Riley and forget this conversation ever took place but never forget what I have told you about Liam. You will remember that always won't you Riley? It will make me very happy if you did." Spike purrs softly, slowly sliding his hand down Finn's chest to swirl his fingertips low over the buckle of his belt before sweeping back up in a suggestive caress.

"Happy, yes I'll make you happy and remember." Finn replies with a vacant smile as Spike drops his hands and steps away and turns his eyes away, breaking their gaze.

"I'm sure your friends must be waiting for you before they order Riley. Perhaps you should go back to them." Spike suggests, his tone, bland and uninterested.

"Oh yes, I should! Have a good night Sirs." Riley says somewhat startled before he salutes smartly and strides back into the café while Liam stares after him in amazement.

"What in the hell was that?" Liam asks as he turns to look at Spike in wonderment.

Spike shrugs eloquently. "Sometimes it's nice being something less than Human occasionally. Due to his less than healthy recreational habits, he's very susceptible to my...esoteric talents. It makes him highly suggestible as you saw for yourself."

"That's fascinating, scary as hell, but still...fascinating. What else can you make him do?" Liam asks with a not altogether pleasant smile, that doesn't bode well for Mr. Finn.

"At this stage of things, that was about the limit, but the longer he's around me the stronger my influence will grow. If we were intimate, my control would be complete and much more comprehensive much more quickly." He throws up his hand as though to ward off the storm clouds he can almost see boiling to life over Liam's head. "I have no intention of being intimate with Mr. Finn so relax." He breathes a sigh of relief as Liam takes his suggestion.

"How complete will your control over him be, without the intimacy factor?" Liam asks, striding over to his side to cup his shoulder. He is more than a little concerned by the mindless obsession that Finn seems to be falling deeper and deeper into every time he's around Wil.

"It depends on the situation. One on one he'll be completely under my influence if I wish him to be. With other people around, they draw his attention so maintaining my hold becomes more difficult. Also if he is indeed a servant of a Master and I suspect that he is, than his Master's influence would also be a dangerous distraction. I do not think that he would harm me under any circumstances nor allow me to come to harm if he could help me once my hold over him is firmly established. A protection that now extends to you. He may not consciously remember what I've said but his subconscious mind has heard me and marked my words into his memory. He will begin to see us as one entity and he will begin to obey you without realising it consciously. He'll never be completely trustworthy but it will accomplish what we need. He'll soon betray all his cohorts in the Initiative and the President will finish the destruction that the Demons began here when they attacked them."

"And you can do the same thing with other people?" Liam isn't sure if he's jealous or frightened of the powers contained in the beautifully packaged form that is his former Stepbrother.

"Some people are easier than others, like Finn, for a variety of reasons. Demons in particular are sensitive to me but the oldest and the strongest are too powerful to be easily swayed and too strong willed to abandon their selves to me. My influence over a Master Vampire for instance is only partial and it is unlikely I could exert any significant sway over them without being consistently intimate with them over a not inconsiderable amount of time. Some people like you are naturally immune to a degree to my influence. I might be able to influence you to a tiny degree but the only way my influence would ever be fully effective is if you allowed it to happen; a willing choice. A Master Vampire of sufficient age would take me much too long to influence effectively. It would take months of effort and by then well..." Spike lets his voice trail off.

"By which time it would be too late as they would have likely turned you by then." Liam says with a shiver.

"Yes, I would be risking as much if not more than I would gain if I should even attempt it. Against a True Hunter turned Vampire, my...gifts become a liability, as they retain much of the abilities they had in life. It's what makes them such formidable Vampires. Our powers tend to cancel each other out but most dangerous of all is that it attracts us to each other."

"That is why...Penn was it...was so difficult for you to win against." Liam realises.

"Part of me didn't want to win." Spike says quietly. "I've only felt an attraction like that once before. He is beyond me but Penn could have been mine and it would have almost been worth the cost of my life to know what it meant to belong to someone like that."

Liam lifts his free hand to cup Wil's cheek. "Xander wouldn't have wanted that." Liam's eyes narrow as Wil drops his eyes, unconsciously leaning into the weight of his hand on his cheek. In that moment of clarity he understands even as he turns away from that knowledge. "I wouldn't have wanted that." He says quietly, caressing his cheek briefly before forcing his hands to fall away.

Spike clears his throat. "We should go, I said we'd have a look through those catalogues and we have to talk to Anya about your inheritance and what you want to do with the things that Mum wanted you to have that I've been storing for you. Why don't you just spend the night? We've got plenty of room." Spike says quietly, fighting the urge to confront Liam about their aborted relationship that almost was. He's made it clear that he's chosen to either forget it or at least pretend that he has and he can do little else but allow him that if he feels it is a necessity. He walks over to the motorcycle and unlocks the helmets and tosses Liam his before slipping on his own and straddling the back.

After a moment and a concerned glance Liam slowly follow suits and within moments they are rocketing down the streets of Sunnydale. Each is silent and lost in his own thoughts and the ride is a quiet one but their thoughts are anything but peaceful.
 

Chapter Five

Spike directs him down a quiet street in one of the oldest parts of Sunnydale, so far from the centre of town that the trees of a veritable forest lie only a few hundred yards from the back of the homes. Homes seems to be a misnomer however, these stately old structures are manors straight from the olden days of a brighter past.

They travel the quietest streets and past the most distant houses until they reach what is quite possibly the last street and farthest house from Sunnydale's present and into its distant past. It is a grand old manor, all brick, stone, wrought iron, gleaming heavy leaded glass windows, history, and age. Foot thick walls of stone and mortar and guarded by wrought iron gates and dangerously sharp polished wooden and iron finials make a successful excursion over the walls a tricky business.

As they approach the front gates they open outward to admit them, closing quickly and silently with a soft clamour as the metal interlaces. Spike directs him to follow the drive down around a small lane and down a smaller side lane until they come to a large freestanding garage. Liam pulls in and parks beside the Hummer and the pair dismount and lock up the bike and helmets before retrieving their boxes of dessert.

"Follow me; we can take the tunnel into the house." Spike says motioning with a nod of his head towards a dark staircase at the rear of the garage. He leads the way and Liam is startled as an overhead row of lights turn on at their approach only to dim and wink out after they have passed. Spike stops before a heavy iron door and presses his palm to what looks like a block of smoky glass set into the wall. After a second the panel starts to glow from beneath in a scanning motion and within a second a soft tone sounds and Spike steps back pressing against Liam's body briefly as the heavy iron door swings outward. The pair walks through and the door closes behind them and soft track lighting in the ceiling illuminates as they walk down the dark passage. They pass through another door and into some sort of a junction that looks to be the centre of a spoke of hallways that seem to radiate in every compass direction.

Spike turns to the left towards the western hallway and uses the same means to open another door. "The northern hall leads to the sewer system that leads to the old abandoned water run off system they built back in the seventies that is redundant now. It leads to an exit in the basement of the old theatre on Baker. The eastern tunnel leads to a system of old storm drains that leads off into the forest. We came in through the southern tunnel. This western tunnel connects to the basement of the house." Spike explains.

"This is quite sophisticated. The security system is quite advanced." Liam says impressed.

"It's the home of the current and soon to be former head of the Watchers Council and it's unhealthily close to an entrance to Hell." Spike points out with a chuckle, sounding like he's talking to a child. After a second Liam acknowledges the well deserved jab with a chuckle of his own. "Anya's got a deft touch with the electrical mojo. She's made this place almost completely self-contained. Power is drawn from a nifty bit of wizardry enhanced technology that she and Wesley cobbled together with Gunn's help. You'll have to ask them about the specifics, my eyes glazed when I heard the phrase, extra-dimensional energy singularity." The pair chuckles again.

"Gunn took care of the physical security and ant would be blasted to its next incarnation if it tried to move on the grounds once the system goes active. Anya will want to spend a few minutes with you, adding you to the security system recognition protocols. We wouldn't want it to mistake you for an intruder; that would be very...bad." Spike says continuing. "Giles and Wesley made with the heavy Wizard of Oz bit and this place is warded against anything short of rampaging Hell Gods. We're as safe here as it's possible to be given where we are." They come to the end of the hallway and another door that Spike obligingly opens to reveal a spacious basement game room complete with a bar and a two pool tables as well as a small home theatre set up.

"Nice, this is very, very nice." Liam says impressed as he steps through and turns to watch as the door swings inward, closing and locking behind them before a large portion of the wall slides down and forward until no sign of the doorway remains. If he hadn't watched it happen he would never have known that there was a door hidden behind the professional looking dart centre decorating that section of the wall. "IT is REALLY, REALLY NICE." Liam says somewhat jealously. "Is the dart board just for looks or is it for real?" Liam asks getting a glimmer of an idea. He didn't spend his college years in smoky pubs without acquiring some skills. "How about a game if it is?"

Spike turns on his heel and pivots and his arm snaps down and forward in a smooth sharp single motion and Liam blinks as something streaks arrow straight at the dart board. He blinks and stares at the slender spike of metal now sunk dead centre of the bull's-eye, quivering slightly with the force of the throw.

"Okay, well maybe later." He says with a nervous giggle of laughter as Spike smirks and continues towards the staircase at the opposite end of the room and he hurries to catch up.

"Jenny, please inform the others that I am back and that Liam is with me please." Spike says out loud and seemingly to no one in particular.

"Yes William." A woman's voice exactly like his dead Step-mother's replies seemingly from nowhere yet everywhere around them. "Welcome to Amalie Manor."

Spike chuckles at the spooked look on Liam's face. "The central computer monitors every room in real time through audio, visual, and sensor webs built into everything on the grounds. Anya named her Jenny and gave her enough of a personality and that we don't feel like we're talking to a toaster oven. It took her a year to get Mum's voice right and it was strange at first but now I find it strangely comforting to hear her. I couldn't bring myself to call her by Mum's name so Anya christened her as 'Jenny' and we named the manor after her instead." Spike says patting Liam on the shoulder and continuing up the stairs with Liam right at his back.

The Manor is truly lovely; the floors are creamy white marble shot through with softer shades of brown, tan, and yellows. The wood is all dark, rich mahogany, oak, and cedar predominate the older home as was the style of the time during which it was built. To balance the dark woods the walls are all done in neutral shades; light creamy whites and shades of tan predominate. The upholstery and fabrics used are all softer shades with only the occasional splash of vibrant jewel tones scattered here or there. The overall effect is very calm and peaceful, soothing to the eye and nerves.

Spike leads him through to the kitchen and they set their dessert boxes down and Liam unpacks the mountain of desserts while Spike turns the refrigerator and grabs cartons of sweet cream and milk setting them on the counter. Within moments a pot is on the stove heating up the cream and milk mixture. Liam watches with a smile as Spike moves around the kitchen with easy skill. As the mixture heats he watches as the would-be chef pulls out a carefully wrapped bar of chocolate and using a sharp knife cuts off a large amount and chops it finally, just in time to be stirred into the heated mixture of sweet cream and milk. The hot chocolate is left to simmer gently as the chocolate is carefully re-wrapped and replaced in its spot in the cabinet. A dark bottle is removed from a side cabinet and the corked stopper is open releasing the sweet fragrance of vanilla and the sharper scent of a fine brandy. A healthy dose and the bottle is replaced and the pot is removed from the stove while Wil fetches down a tray and loads it with mugs and a thermal carafe. The cocoa is decanted with an easy skill and Spike smiles at the look on Liam's face, it is dreamy and a little melancholy.

"You look just like Amalie when she used to make us cocoa." He says a little choked up, gratefully accepting a warm hug from Wil and lingering in his embrace for several minutes missing the woman that loved them both till her dying day.

He tightens his arms around Wil and buries his face against his neck and breathes deeply and releasing it slowly several times, until all he can smell is the scent of his skin, all he can feel is the caress of their bodies against one another, all he can see are the visions of peace playing out against the inside of his eyelids. He has been so long without a real home, feeling that he didn't belong anywhere or to anyone. Right now he knows that he has a home and he does belong and it all is wrapped up in the gorgeous male package nestled in his arms. He has never asked him for anything nor denied him anything, unlike the man that claims to be his Father. The fact that he grew up to be something other than the bastard image of his Father, he knows he owes to Wil and the unconditional love of Amalie Bradley.

He slowly releases him and clears his throat, somewhat embarrassed by his emotional outburst. "So are we going to have that delicious looking cocoa you made Julia Childs?"

Spike chuckles and pushes away to get the tray and bring it over. He sets it down on the breakfast bar and then fetches a small stack of dessert plates and several forks. "Watch this." Spike says with a quiet snicker. "Jenny general broadcast please." After a moment a soft tone sounds. "We've got boxes full of desserts and fresh homemade cocoa down here if anyone's got a sweet tooth. Jenny, broadcast off." Spike says in a singsong voice. He holds up his hand towards Liam and slowly ticks down three fingers and by the time the last one is going down, the sound of slamming doors and trampling feet are reaching their ears. Liam snickers as the kitchen seemingly gets invaded by a herd of rampant chocoholics.

Liam has to admit he hasn't felt as comfortable around people in a long time, he just seems to fit with all of them and he really enjoyed their late night chat and the chance to spend some quiet time with all of them.

He finally got a chance to ask Anya about her former life as a vengeance demon as she sat him down in front of what seemed to be a strange combination of a computer and an instant photo booth. She talked to him about the money he'd inherited from Amalie that had been entrusted to Spike and eventually to her careful management and had more than quadrupled in her care. She explained the procedure for turning over control of the money to him though she was touched that he asked her to continue to manage his portfolio as she saw fit.

He enjoyed a tour of Gunn's workshop and some of his more esoteric weaponry and various other prototypes for defensive and offensive weaponry. Some of the designs could revolutionise the state of warfare in the western world if the could be mass produced which is one reason he plans to never reveal to anyone that they exist. Men have enough ways to kill each other without giving them new and vastly improved ways of doing it.

Wesley proudly showed off his magical workshop and entertained him with an impromptu display of magical acumen. He explained how he and Anya with Gunn's assistance had been able to find ways to fuse magic and technology, two opposing forces that should have cancelled each other out. He explained the tenets of magic and more about how they believe the First Elders used magic to create The Slayer and later The Hunter bloodlines. He listened intently, wanting to learn more about Wil's heritage so he could better understand the driving influence of his life.

Giles gave him a tour of his extensive library that comprised a special climate controlled, two story section of the Manor. Their discussion about the history of the Watchers Council and the plans they'd come up with to topple the Initiative were especially interesting.

Finally he found himself in Wil's room talking about Amalie and her bequest to him and about the truth of Amalie's life after the divorce from his Father. They talked about the lives they've lived apart, the highs and lows of their experiences. They talked well into the night as they poured over the extensive database of equipment and other things that Wil has access to. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world, to strip down and climb into Wil's more than spacious bed, their hands laced together between them. That night his dreams were sweet and his rest peaceful.
 

Chapter Six

The morning comes gently to his waking mind, the repose of a good night's sleep clinging to him as closely as a lover and waking him gently from its embrace. He feels the warmth of the weight against him, curled around him until every part of them is touching and touched and he doesn't need to look to know who slumbers peacefully in his arms. It's funny, after waking up alone for so long; you'd think that he would be mildly disconcerted at the least to awaken so close to another person. The initial moments of confusion that always accompany a mind emerging from the unreality of sleep and dreams to the solid presence of the here and now. It's absent, it is totally absent; he feels nothing of confusion or nervousness at finding himself blanketed by the sleeping form of his former Stepbrother.

He has to actually bite back a laugh of pure happiness at the joy of simply waking up. So many nights tormented by dreams that always fade in the morning light but this time the dream has survived the sunrise. The feeling of 'rightness' has been creeping over him slowly since Wil has been back in his life but he doesn't know what to do about it. All of his life he's been living up to his Father's expectations and demands for a 'perfect' son and positive proof of his 'success' as a human being. He has always known that he was just another one of his Father's possessions, something to be owned and shown off to make him look better and for a long time he was blind to that. He mistook possessive obsession for love and thought that he mattered to his Father but he knows the truth that he would never let himself see as a younger man. His Father was in love with his son, only the son in question was Wil and not himself. His Father's irrational anger at finding them together, the severity of his fury at Amalie for allowing their 'unhealthy' attachment to grow, and the hours of screaming and ranting about the disgrace of having a 'gay' son, it all makes sense now.

He's not 'gay' he was never gay; he was in love with Wil and only with Wil. If Amalie's son had been a daughter he would still have loved regardless. He's not attracted to men, he's in love with Wil, and he can admit that now. He just doesn't know how to tell Wil or if he even has a right to after denying them both what they've needed all along; each other. He's not the perfect son that his Father wanted, but Wil never cared about perfect, he loved him with his flaws and imperfections, even when he thought that he hated him. If only he could have known how he truly felt, the anger that he'd misplaced because he couldn't deal with the feelings he had knowing that his Father would condemn him for it. He was a bastard to Wil and he knows it, it just made the times that Wil was there for him all the more tragic in the fact that it was one-sided.

Then came the night that everything changed and he couldn't hide behind the lies anymore because Wil ripped them away and showed him the truth in his arms. The love, affection, acceptance, trust, and respect that his Father could never give him, Wil offered him freely. Until he met Amalie and saw the unconditional love for her son, did he even understand that what his Father felt for lacked for even basic human kindness. He never really understood what a special woman Amalie Bradley had been until his reunion with Wil.

She knew that her son had been born with the burden of a terrible blood-born legacy, that his life would be one less ordinary and far less safe than those gifted to other children. Since before he could walk Wil's development had been carefully guided, shaped, and moulded both to ensure his eventual success in the path he was born to but for the safety of those sharing his life. Amalie knew that her son was born to a destiny that had prematurely ended the lives of every one before him and she never treated him differently. She loved him, unconditionally and completely and when she married his Father he found that her heart was big enough to welcome him easily inside it. She and her son had embraced him before they even knew him, willingly gave him everything he lacked from his Father and in Wil's case something so much more than a parent could provide. Amalie made him feel safe and nurtured and he felt content with his life and happy for the first time since he could remember. Wil made him feel dangerous and reckless as though everything and anything in the world could be his if he desired it enough and was willing to fight for it.

All their efforts gained them was the pain of watching him walk away with the Father that could have cared less if he'd spontaneously burst into flame. He was still trying to be the perfect son, but unable to recognise the faulty logic of trying to be perfect when the model he was trying to build himself around was the most flawed of them all. He'd had perfection and he'd walked away from it. He could have had a Mother that would...that did love him to her dying day despite the treatment at the hands of his vindictive and jealous Father. By all rights Wil should hate him but instead he enacted an elaborate charade to protect his memory for his Mother. Wil, who sat with him and held him as he cried the tears that his Father denied him with his lies and then made him smile with stories about happier times.

He knows that he doesn't deserve a chance to win back what he gave away his right to have so long ago but he also grasps that it doesn't matter. He wants Wil and he's not going to give up again. Not for the illusion of being his Father's perfect son, not for the memory of a youth lying still in hallowed ground, and not for the presence of an all too real Riley 'I'm a corn-fed Iowa bastard' Finn. He feels dangerous and reckless and he's ready to fight for the only thing in the world that he desires enough to fight for, a future with Wil. Now he just has to figure out how the hell to do that.

The faint flutter of flexing muscles against him heralds Wil's waking and he forces his body to relax and melt into the mattress. It takes all of his willpower to remain still and feign sleep as the boneless body plastered to his wiggles with a quiet waking yawn. He feels Wil's weight shift until he is curled up next to him and the feather soft caress of a worshipful hand as it ghosts over the hills and valleys of the muscles on his chest. The touch is as light as the brush of a moth's wings and just as swiftly flown. He has to force himself not to react as the bed rocks gently and lips brush his ears and warm breath tickles his sensitive earlobe.

"I know that you're not sleeping Liam. I can tell the difference from your heartbeat and respiration. You've been awake for a while now." An amused voice breathes huskily in his ear.

He gives up and lets his lashes lift over laughing eyes. "Can't a guy even sleep in once in a while?" He growls, feigning grumpy attitude.

Spike's not fooled for a moment, only chuckling and patting his shoulder. "You're adorable when your lip gets all pouty like that." He leans over slowly, his lips hovering over his stomach and Liam holds his breath only to promptly lose it in gales of laughter as Spike blows raspberries on his belly.

"You are such a strange man." Liam roars as he laughs, shaking uncontrollably and trying to shove his mouth away from his belly button, but he's laughing too hard.

He pushes him away desperate to catch his breath and Spike tumbles back on the bed, finding himself trapped under better than two hundred pounds of solidly packed muscle and he curls his arms around Liam's shoulders and rubs his back.

"Let's sleep in." They say in unison and rear back to stare at each other in amazement before diving at each other and burying their faces in the curve of each other's neck and shoulder and stifling their laughter.

Liam lifts himself up on his palms, pushing up to lighten the burden of his weight and looks down into the eldritch blue eyes that have been haunting him for the majority of his adult life. What breath is left in his lungs from his laughter is stolen by the unquestioning acceptance of the body under his. He knows then how easily he could destroy this rare man; that despite his well deserved reputation as one of the deadliest men in the world has never held back or tried to guard himself against him.

He slides an arm beneath Spike's shoulders and shifts his weight to the side, rolling onto his back and pulling the slighter weight of the blond partially onto his chest. He urges the moonlight pale head down to rest against his chest and strokes his fingers through the remarkably soft hair. He marvels at the contrast between the deep tan of his hand and the pale silvery blond hair it is running through.

"Your hair was like a lion's mane when you were younger. This is so different, but I kind of like it." Liam says quietly. "It makes you look sleek and deadly and dangerous and sexy as hell."

"I was born to be all of those things and more." The cool blue eyes flare with an inner fire briefly but then return to their usual fathomless serenity.

"Was there never any choice Wil?" Liam asks softly still stroking his hair and looking into his eyes. "I understand that you had to have some training to adjust to being...special...but the rest?"

"I had the same choice that Buffy had...has Liam. I could have chosen to deny my nature, reject the calling of my blood, or refuse to live according to a plan some old men centuries gone to dust laid out for me. I could have but my wishes weren't really the point of it. My choices mean nothing to the ones who would like nothing better than to show me off as a trophy. If I had tried to be other than I am I would have fallen to Penn or someone like him sooner rather than later, they wouldn't have stopped to ask me what my choice was. While it's true that the tales say if I were ever turned willingly than the one responsible would be very formidable but the very act of turning me at all would still make them a power to be reckoned with, so I doubt anyone would pass up the chance just hoping I'd someday be willing. I had a choice Liam. I choose to fight for my life, to make the ones that come for me earn their victory. I will not give it to them."

Liam's hand stills in his hair, sinking deep and clutching tightly for a moment before he can force it to relax and resume the stroking. "I understand. Just because you walk away you would still be the Hunter, like Buffy would still be the Slayer and you will always be a target as long as that is true."

"Archilochus said 'Let who will boast their courage in the field, I find but little safety from my shield, Nature's, not honour's law we must obey: This made me cast my useless shield away'. I have neither forgotten that quote nor one a Spartan Mother is said to have said to her son as she sent him to war. 'Either bring back this shield or be brought back upon it'. I can deny my nature; try to shield myself from it but that won't keep that nature from knocking on my door over and over again." Spike sits up, straddling his hips with an easy grace and a total lack of self-consciousness. "Buffy is the lucky one, though she won't see that for a while. Her fight will be over soon, she can retire and no more monsters will come knocking on her door. What I am, I will be until I meet the one I can defeat and god willing I'll die rather than become what I've fought against. I won't kill her, you have my promise Liam. If she fights the ritual I won't hurt her any more than necessary." Spike tucks his shoulder under and rolls gracefully to the side, flipping the covers with a casual sweep of his arm and then he is gone, stalking silently into the bathroom.

Liam stares after him in confusion, his mouth opening and closely uselessly, as he struggles to find the words that will bring Wil back to him. He thinks back over their conversation and instances of other talks between them and he curses violently tossing the covers away from his side of the bed and sitting up and letting his forehead fall into his hands.

Wil thinks that he is still in love with Buffy, even as he has come to realise that he was never in love with her at all and how's that for irony? Buffy was a dream, one that he thought that he could have and still be the perfect son he'd spent all of his life trying to be. His Father approved of Buffy and it was almost as though he was at long last approving of him; that he had done something to make his Father proud of him. The sound of the shower reaches his ears and he sighs with the realisation that Wil isn't going to come back. It seems he's done an excellent job of making him believe that he'll never get what he wants or needs, just like he said when he hurt him all those years before. Maybe he's more like his Father than he ever knew. They seemed to have the same capacity to cause pain. He gets up suddenly weary in soul if not in body, dresses and quietly slips out of Wil's room. There has to be a way to make Wil see...there has to be. He just has to find it.
 

Chapter Seven

It's just after eight, but the cool winter night has already tightened its hold on the town as they pull up behind the Hummer outside Buffy's house. A rental car is sitting at the curb and two women and a man are leaning against the trunk. He's surprised to recognise that one of the women is Cordelia Chase an old high school friend of Buffy's who had moved to Los Angeles after graduation. The other young woman he doesn't know nor the slightly scruffy and rumpled looking man with his arm wrapped around Cordelia's shoulder in an obviously possessive hold.

Spike pulls off his helmet and slides out from behind him, locking the helmet into its caddy as he walks over to the trio and Liam hurries to follow. He's surprised to see Spike and the man exchange an exuberant hug and to watch him hug Cordelia and press an affectionate kiss to the cheek she pushes towards him with a demanding chuckle. He ducks a mock punch from the man as he ducks his head to press a kiss to the forehead of the petite brunette next to Cordelia.

Liam is surprised to see the flash of some unnamed, but violent emotion stirring in the young woman's eyes for a few moments, but then it is gone and she hugs Spike back. He notes however and she and Spike take several steps away from each other and appear to be somewhat tense.

"Hey, Liam, it's been a long time! We didn't know you'd be here." Cordelia says surprised, but pulls him into an impulsive hug before leaning back and roving a curious eye over him. "I didn't know that you knew Spike."

Spike chuckles and after a moment Liam does as well as Giles and the rest of them walk over from the Hummer and more greetings and hugs are exchanged.

"Liam, you've met Cordelia obviously." Spike says with a chuckle. "This is her husband Doyle." The man shakes his hand politely. "He and Cordelia run the Council's Los Angeles training centre." Liam is rather surprised at that as the Cordelia he remembers wouldn't have considered such employment as a high priority. "This is Kennedy, Faith's successor and after tonight, the lone Slayer." Liam feels a pang of remorse for what the young woman's life will be like and hopes that she, like Buffy, will make it to retirement. "This is Colonel Liam O'Donnell." Spike says proudly.

Cordelia gasps as she remembers Spike talking about the O'Donnells and she just never made the connection until now. "You were Spike's Stepbrother?" She asks surprised but laughs when both Liam and Spike nod. "It's a small world after all." Doyle starts to hum the tune only to get a playful smack on the stomach from Cordelia. "Knock it off Jiminy Cricket." They all laugh but it sounds stressed and nervous.

Giles clears his throat and shifts the large black case he's carrying. "Are we ready to do this?" His voice is rough with a hint of despair and it's obvious that this is not a duty sitting lightly on his shoulders.

"Did you decide how to progress with this?" Liam asks with a glance of concern at Spike, unconsciously steeping closer to him until their shoulders brush.

Giles shares a sheepish glance with the others. "Yes, we're going to lie; shamelessly."

Liam stares at the blush on the dignified man's face and bites back a chuckle. "Well okay then."

Wesley looks vaguely uncomfortable. "We've learned our lesson about trying to discuss the matter reasonably and maturely with them when they've started to reach this state."

"Faith was less than receptive once she knew why we were there." Spike supplies with a grimace. "Once it was done and she had a few days to adjust she thanked us but for a while she was unmanageable. They had to keep her partially sedated for part of the time." Liam bites back a growl at the thought of Spike having to fight Faith and possibly Buffy.

"I've spoken to Buffy's mother Joyce and she's agreed that it's for the best and she's willing to let us take Buffy to the manor for a couple of days. Anya and Wesley can monitor her condition and we can more easily control any violent outbursts as her powers slowly leech away." Giles explains.

"It won't happen all at once?" Liam asks surprised.

"We could do it that way, but we'd risk causing physical ramifications as he essentially forced her system to return to normal." Anya explains. "It would be like resetting a computer without properly shutting it down, you could do it but there's always the chance of scrambling files in the process. If we slowly leech her powers over several days, the process is much less invasive and gentler to her systems which are already being taxed too greatly. We'd like to avoid any additional and ultimately unnecessary stress by rushing the process."

"Why does she think you all are coming here tonight? Won't she be suspicious?" Liam asks.

"We've told her that a new Slayer has been called and she's assumed that something happened to Faith in prison and I didn't correct her. We've told her that the fact that there are two Slayers, due to the unfortunate circumstances of a few years ago, that it is necessary to perform a special ritual in order to activate the new Slayer. Kennedy's powers are already active but Buffy is unaware of that and her presence will lend weight to the false story we've set up. Hopefully we'll have performed the ritual before Buffy realises that she is the focus and not Kennedy, at least that's what we're hoping."

"If the change will be slow than couldn't she still become violent in the meantime?" Liam asks genuinely concerned that one or more of them could be hurt or he'd have to face the possibility of having to watch Spike forced to fight Buffy and risk serious injury.

"Wesley and I have planned for that. As I am doing the retirement ritual, Wesley will be doing a combination binding and sedation spell at the same time. If we've timed it right than she'll be asleep and her powers bound at virtually the same moment that I complete my spell, which is a necessity as she will know at that point that something is wrong. We're pretty sure that we can pull this off." Giles says confidently. Taking a deep breath he turns on his heel and heads for the front door, the others trailing after them. Liam looks over to ask Spike a question but notices that he hasn't moved but is leaning against the car, his arms crossed loosely.

"I'm going to stay with Wil." Liam calls out to the others and turns around and returns to lean against the car beside Spike, much to his surprise.

"I'm alright Liam, you can go inside. Buffy could probably use your support." Spike says gruffly.

"I'm staying with you. You can use my support too." Liam's voice makes it clear that it's not a matter open for discussion. "Why are you hanging out back here? If something goes wrong...?"

"I've never actually met Buffy face to face. True Hunters rarely have any contact with the active Slayers unless the worst case scenario happens, which fortunately is very rare. She would react to me immediately and given her somewhat unbalanced state of late, it would likely be a violent reaction. She would know that I'm not exactly as I appear and to her mind that would classify me as a Demon and she'd react to me like one before she noticed the whole 'I'm not dead' thing." Spike explains. "I've visited several times over the years but I was always careful never to run into Buffy." He quirks his brow and tilts his head inquisitively. "That's probably why I didn't know that you were here. Xander mentioned you from time to time but I never made the connection and I don't think that he did either. He would have told me if he knew you were here."

Liam almost sends a pitying glance towards him but he staves it off at the last moment. If things were reversed and he was Xander he wouldn't have told his lover that his Step-brother and potential rival was in town either. He wonders what he would have done if he had known about Xander and Wil? He likes to think that he would have been mature about it and been happy for them and wished them well. Yeah he knows himself better than that though. He'd have done everything possible to break them up and then denied the reasons why he did. He was big on denial back then.

"Kennedy's in there and if something does go wrong she can contain Buffy long enough for me to get in there. This may not be the most straightforward and hones way of doing things but Willow honestly felt it was likely the kindest way. Apparently her condition has been steadily worsening." The sound of Spike's voice pulls Liam from his reverie.

"So big surprise seeing Cordy here, has she been working for the Council long?" Liam asks, wanting the distraction of a change in topic.

"She's worked for them since she and Doyle got married last year." Spike says with a fond smile. "It seems that she had a bit of trouble right after she moved to LA, of the Demon variety. Fortunately Doyle was there and helped her out. He was running a small detective agency at the time and she went to work for him as his receptionist/secretary. They had a nasty run in with a group of anarchists called The Scourge, preached the whole racial purity thing. The Council found out about it and dispatched as many Hunter teams as they could spare to LA to help fight them back. We won but Doyle lost his brother Sean when he sacrificed himself to stop them. They're only half-Demon and the human part of Sean couldn't take the stress and unfortunately we couldn't save him."

"He's half-Demon?!?!" Liam exclaims in surprise. Spike chuckles at the pole-axed expression on his face and nods. "Well Buffy always said Cordy could be a real Hell Spawn so I guess that's fitting." The pair chuckles softly.

"Cordelia's a hell of a woman and they're well suited. You should see their children; they're the most adorable kids I've ever seen. She has a talent for organisation and she was a natural choice to handle the administrative side of things at the centre. Doyle's somewhat of a natural empathy so he makes for a terrific counsellor for the new arrivals. Finding out you may someday be a Slayer is traumatic for a lot of girls at first and they need someone to talk to and Doyle's the best at handling that. We were lucky that they accept the offer of employment."

"Wow, they have kids?" Liam says with a happy smile.

"Yes and it's not as rare as you may think. Interbreeding isn't really that unusual and is in fact fairly common in some areas of the world." Spike winks saucily. "Like Ireland for instance."

Liam grins and does a little Irish jig before leaning back against the car and bowing his head as Spike claps politely.

"It's almost done." Spike says tilting his head towards the house.

"How do you know?" Liam asks surprised. His mouth drops open in shock as Spike taps his ear with his fingertips. "You can hear them from out here?"

"My senses aren't quite as sharp as a Vampire's, but it's close." Spike states simply. "Giles is about halfway through the ritual and Wesley is keeping time with him. I think this may be somewhat of an anticlimactic ending." He says wryly. "Maybe that's best though. It took me a few days to heal from my fight with Faith and I wasn't looking forward to taking on an even stronger Slayer. Buffy's had enough drama in her life, maybe a quiet ending is somehow fitting."

"As long as you don't get hurt, it can end anyway it has to." Liam says; his voice hard with implacable intent that says any other outcome is unacceptable. "I won't be seeing Buffy anymore." Liam peeks at Spike from the corner of his eye and he's gratified to see that he's having a hard time not looking like that fact pleases him endlessly.

They both sneak peeks at each other, trying to look casual and not get caught sneaking the looks but they both know that they are and after a few minutes of visual tag they have to laugh at the absurdity of it and both chuckle in unison.

"So you have someone you're going to be seeing instead then?" Spike asks quietly, his voice soft and somewhat hesitant as though he's not sure he really wants to hear the answer.

"I've sort of had my eye on someone." Liam says just as softly, sneaking another uncharacteristically shy glance at the perfection of the profile to his left.

Spike nods his chin towards the house. "It's done. It looks like we were both redundant heroes this time around, Liam. I'm amazed usually the plans we come up with never go this well. Maybe someone's decided to give us a break for once and we'll actually get away with doing things the easy way. I feel kind of let down actually."

"You know...I didn't think I'd ever say this...but after all the worry and work up heading into this and having a whimper rather than a bang...I feel a bit let down too. I guess we'll have to save the Hell-spawn and Guardian Angel show for another night." Liam says with a grin as Spike chuckles at the reference to his own less than human birthright and the middle name that for some unfathomable reason, Liam's Mother chose to inflict on him.

"Well, I guess if a Devil..." Spike turns to look at Liam. "...And an Angel can get along, it is a good night for another minor miracle." Liam turns to meet his gaze and a silent message passes between the cerulean and whiskey brown orbs that has both of them flushing slightly and ducking their heads, suddenly finding looking at anything but each other endlessly fascinating.

They watch as the door to Buffy's home opens and their friends start to appear, Buffy's petite form carried securely in Gunn's arms. They watch as Buffy's Mother and her youngest sister exit the house, carrying small overnight bags, their friends pausing as the door is locked before escorting them towards the car. Spike and Liam turn to glance at each other and then away again, each lost in his own thoughts.

After a few moments of comfortable silence both of them find their hands moving as their palms press together and their fingers interlace in silent declaration. This isn't going to be some miracle cure for what still lies between them, old accounts must be settled before new ones are made. But everything begins with those first tentative steps and they've taken their first strides forward.
 

Chapter Eight

They calmly watch the group make their way over to them and they duck their heads a little shyly as they notice the pointed looks at their joined hands and the knowing smiles on the faces of their friends. Liam studiously avoids the inquisitive stare Buffy's Mother Joyce shoots at him and reluctantly releases Wil to jog ahead and open the back door of the Hummer.

Anya climbs in first then Kennedy. Gunn carefully manoeuvres Buffy onto the back seat, sliding her in carefully so that her head is cushioned on Anya's lap and her feet on Kennedy's lap. Wesley and Gunn get in the front seat while Cordelia and Doyle escort Giles, Joyce, and Dawn to their car for the ride back to the manor.

"Giles, will you need us?" Spike calls out.

"With the sedation and binding spells in place we shouldn't have any trouble taking her to the room we have ready for her." Giles calls back. "Within four to six days her system should have established its normal hormonal range and her powers will be nullified. She'll just be a young woman with a future ahead of her. I think we can handle it from here and your presence may affect her despite the spells if you're in too close of proximity. I think its best that we limit her personal contact to Anya, Joyce, and me until she's over the worst of it. She didn't react well to Kennedy at all."

Spike looks around his brow furrowed. "Where is Willow?" He's surprised to note that she's absent, positive that she'd feel responsible for seeing that Buffy makes a smooth transition.

"Yes well, it seems there was some unpleasantness between Willow and Buffy." Giles says gruffly, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them before replacing them.

"Buffy hit her and Willow hit her back and told her to take her stake and shove it and then she left and said that she wasn't coming back." Dawn sticks her head out the window to supply the colourful commentary. Joyce looks horrified and shushes her daughter and makes her pull her head back into the car and roll up her window much to the young girl's disgust.

"Yes well, that would be what happened. I called Willow and she's fine, she's decided that she's had enough of Sunnydale. She's applied for U.C.L.A. and she's been accepted, she leaves in the morning. She asked me to tell you that she wishes she could see you Wil, but she's afraid she'd never get the he..." Giles glances at Joyce and Dawn. "...Heck out of this town if she did. She asked me to tell you that she still has the same cell phone number and that she expects you to drive down at least once a month to have lunch or dinner with her in LA."

"Thank you, Giles. I understand how hard it was for her to decide to leave and I won't make it harder on her. I'll give her a call in two or three days after she gets settled in the city." Spike replies, not surprised but secretly disappointed. He'd hoped to have a chance to spend some time with his old friend but what's best for her needs to come first.

"I'll call her and let her know Wil. What are you two going to do?" Giles calls back.

"We're going to head to the Layer and shake down some of the locals, see if we can find out why the Demon activity seems to be picking up all of a sudden. I don't think there's been time for word of our presence to circulate this fast so it must be something else motivating the increase."

Giles looks startled. Beatrice's Layer is a local nightclub infamous for its less than wholesome reputation among the sadomasochism culture. Humans with no sense of self-preservation and Demons both call the underground club home. Touted as one of the Human/Demon 'safe-zones' the Club has long served as neutral territory for the Demons of Sunnydale but despite the supposed non-aggression rules, any Human foolish enough to go in willingly deserves their fate.

"Wil...are you sure you want to go in there with just Liam for backup?" Giles adjusts his glasses nervously. "You're both able to take care of yourselves I know but you have no idea what kind of reaction you're going to garner in there...being who you are. At least take Gunn and Wes with you."

"If we go in there en masse they'll clam up on us for sure. I'm hoping that Beatrice's materialistic nature will work to our advantage. She gains nothing if a war breaks out on the Hellmouth, we're here to prevent that, our goals are ultimately the same if not for the same reasons." Spike replies.

"Beatrice is still a Demon Wil and you're The Hunter and Liam is the deadliest Hunter on the base, neither of you is going to escape unwelcome attention for long. Both of you would be tempting targets for any Demon looking to make a name for itself and granted while you'd likely be able to handle yourselves against a few, you're going to be walking into a crowd of them." Giles says worried about the pair.

"We're not without our...deeper talents Giles." Spike says cryptically, glancing at the avid gazes of Joyce and Dawn as they peer at them from the car. "We'll be fine."

Giles takes a deep breath and trusts in his Godson's judgement. "Two hours Wil, no more. If we haven't heard from you by then we're coming after you both."

Spike nods and follows Liam back to the motorcycle with a flash of a smile as his friends all call out their well wishes and promises to come after them if they aren't back by the time limit.

Liam watches as Spike stalks over to put on his helmet before slipping behind him with the nubile, boneless ease of a gymnast. They follow the others as they head out for the southern end of the street but they turn west as they turn east headed in the opposite direction.

"Can you tell me about this Beatrice person and this club we're headed to?" Liam asks after he locks their com-units on a locked and scrambled signal.

"The club is a declared 'safe zone' that means 'supposedly' that no killing is allowed on the premises or the surrounding grounds. There are supposedly spells in place that prevent violence but like anything else, there's always going to be someone smart or strong enough to find a way to overcome that obstacle." He states. "Beatrice isn't a true Demon in the usual sense of the word, she's Pylean; it's an extra-dimensional realm that lies at the nexus of several realities. In her world it is humans that are viewed as Demons rather than the other way around. As nearly as I can tell from what I've heard and learned over the years, she is the former matron of the Deathwok Clan. As I understand it she and several of her Clansmen were exiled for refusing to use their powers of foresight to predict the movement of enemy troops without monetary compensation. They were forced to flee and ended up here in this dimension where they have remained ever since. There are only a few of their Clan left, several having died in the intervening years and it is thought that no more than six of them still survive out of the forty that were exiled." Spike explains.

"They can foresee the future, but didn't know they were going to come here and end up dead all the same?" Liam says sceptically. "They must not be very good fortune tellers."

"Well the problem as I understand it, is that no two of them foretell the future in the same means. Some need to touch you, others merely need to see you while some can make with the mind mojo just be holding something that has sentimental value you for you, and I heard that there's one that you need to sing for in order for his powers to work. Beatrice is one of the strangest of all, she can only read people if they dance for her." Spike says with a shrug. "It's supposed to have something to do with the act opening some sort of mental rapport that allows her to use her powers for a specific person. The readings are often vague, more impression than fact most of the time, but the accuracy is supposed to be reliable according to Wes, who's made more of a study of the phenomena than I."

The motorcycle swerves slightly. "I am not dancing in public. I can think of easier ways to humiliate myself." Liam mutters but it comes through loud and clear over the internal communicators built into the helmets.

"As long as you don't sing Mate, we'll be fine." Spike retorts with a chuckle.

"Oh, that's very funny Wil." Liam growls.

"I've heard you sing Liam, it's anything but funny, trust me." Spike snickers and after a moment Liam shrugs and chuckles too since it's perfectly true.

They pull up outside a nondescript looking warehouse in the heart of the industrial section on the outskirts of the town and park beside a huge dirt paved lot that's already jammed with cars of every description. They get off the motorcycle and lock up their helmets and Spike unlocks one of the saddlebags and pulls off his shorter leather jacket and flips it over the seat and pulls out a long length of black leather. He glances at the inside collar and flips it over the seat before reaching back in and pulling out another length of black leather and slipping into his duster.

"The less we look like what we are, the easier it will be to find out what we need to know." Spike says glancing at Liam and his clearly military issued jacket and nudging his chin towards the second length of black leather he threw over the seat. "They have pretty sophisticated detection spells; we can't go in there packing anything more than the modified Walthers. Wes has layered them with some pretty hefty counter-spells that should make them undetectable to their spells and they're invisible to most people until they're drawn out of the holsters. Last resort only though Liam, if we start shooting in there, we're going to be doing it with no intention of leaving anyone standing because we can't leave anyone standing if it comes to that. They'll come after us and keep coming for violating the non-aggression treaty. If they can't get us they'll kill four humans for every one of them we kill so we need to avoid that if at all possible. We're here to stop the war that's coming not fire the first shot in it." Spike says, smoothing his coat over the outfit he's chosen to wear, precisely for this little excursion of theirs Liam suspects.

His black boots are the heavier biker style design and feature ornamental silver chains across the instep and around the ankle. His boot cut hip hugging leather jeans are as black as tar with a soft brushed finish as opposed to a shiny one and if they were nothing more than paint and good intentions they could hardly cling any tighter. Instead of a shirt he's wearing a cropped dark blue leather vest top with silver button and loop chain closures that tailor it to his perfectly sculpted chest. The soft matte finish of the leather match his pants and manage to make his unforgettable eyes even more blue if such a thing were possible. His blond hair is only lightly gelled and as he watches Spike runs his fingertips through it mussing it with looks like a chaotic spasm of motion. The effect however makes it look sexily rumpled as though he just got out of bed after a very long night of absolutely no sleep and a lot of exercise. He's sporting his full range of piercings and jewellery and he's looks practically edible.

Spike notices the look and looks over his shoulder at him and quirks his brow in that inquisitive way that makes his clothes all feel three sizes too small and makes him want to pant and rub up against his legs begging to be petted.

Liam blushes and nods his understanding of what Spike's said. He pulls his jacket off and folds it neatly and stows it in the open saddlebag and puts on the black leather coat Spike motioned to. Styled not unlike Spike's duster, the lines of the coat are a bit more tailored and the lines elegant but yet roomy to allow for ease of movement. Having seen how Spike chose to get dressed he dressed, they stopped by his place so he could grab something suitable. His boots and pants are black leather but his shirt is pure silk in a deep shade of red so dark that in all but the strongest light it looks almost black. The sleeves are full but the elongated cuffs extending a good portion of the way up his forearms tailor the fill sleeves neatly. Most of the buttons are undone and the shirt frames a truly impressive chest that sports a simple Celtic rune that represents his middle name on an expensive but understated gold chain. He was pleasantly surprised when Spike presented it to him earlier as a gift and he's found his fingertips straying to touch it often since then.

Spike folds his own coat and sets it on top of Liam's before closing the saddlebag and unlocking the second and pulling out two of the Walthers after making sure the safeties are engaged firmly. He hands one to Liam and slips the other into the small of his back, clipping the holster to a special loop in the waistband of his leather pants designed just for that purpose. They each check to make sure they have just the one Walther each, as any other weaponry could be discovered and seized. Spike lifts a curiously slim black suede box out of the saddlebag and holds it out towards Liam.

"Just one more touch and we'll be ready to go inside." Spike says quietly, but Liam is rather surprised by the coyly flirtatious look in his eye as he holds the case out towards him.

Liam steps forward and takes it, his eyes widening as Spike takes a step back and immediately drops his eyes, clasping his hands behind his back. Curious at his behaviour he opens the box and stares as his mouth falls open. There in the jeweller's case is a beautiful black leather collar. He lifts it slowly out of the box, snapping it closed with one hand and tossing it back into the still open saddlebag with a flick of his wrist. He looks at the collar in his hand and his mind is a riot of images and thoughts that form only one cohesive prerogative, if he puts this on Wil, it's never coming off.

His eyes flick to Wil and he sees the tension causing his muscles to flex, but he gets the feeling that Spike is calm and not nervous in the least at what this moment and this collar actually means. Liam looks down at the collar and he turns it into the light and traces it with his fingertips. The petal soft leather is padded and lined with deep sapphire blue suede for comfort. In the strong light from the nearby lot light, he can see that dark blue stitching embosses the leather in a complex Celtic knot pattern. He knows that in softer light the stitching is so dark as to be almost invisible against the black leather. A gold charm, that matches the name rune hanging around his throat, dangles beneath the collar opposite a cleverly designed gold charm lock that looks like a pair of grasping hands. His fingertips gravitate towards the charm and toy with it briefly and he feels a faint hum of power prickling over his nerve endings and he just knows that it is somehow enchanted.

It is truly one of the most beautiful things that he has ever seen and it's slender, elegant design and overall dark colours means that Spike could even wear it on patrols. He takes a moment to figure out the charm lock and it is soon open in his hands. He takes a deep breath and steps forward and places it around Spike's neck, gasping quietly at the metallic sound of the catch closing. In the relative quiet of the parking area it sounds as loud as a shotgun blast to his suddenly sensitive ears.

He traces the collar as it lies against that flawless golden kissed skin before curling his fingers under Spike's chin and lifting his face until their eyes meet. "That never comes off." He says simply.

Spike's eyes are glowing under his gaze and he nods with elegant acceptance of his edict. His hand reaches out to slowly cover the charm hanging from its chain and presses it lightly to his chest and he intones a phrase in a language he doesn't understand. As soon as the last word is spoken Liam can feel a brief instance of warmth flood through him followed by the absolute assurance in his belief that Spike is close at hand, well, and content. He can see that knowledge mirrored in Spike's eyes.

"The charms are enchanted?" He asks but it's redundant, he's already figured out that they must be.

Spike nods with a gentle smile. "A gift from Giles but the design of the charms was my idea. Put your hand on the charm and say 'Invertim adiato' and you'll be able to remove it but no one else will. If you touch it and clear your mind and think conceal it will disguise itself like so." Spike lifts his hand to touch the charm as it dangles against his collarbone and his eyes slip shut briefly.

Liam watches in amazement as the collar and charm appear to turn into ordinary run of the mill dog tags. He lifts his hand and flips the dog tags over and has to chuckle, they're even correct.

Spike covers the dog tags and his eyes slip shut briefly and the collar and charm are back as they were before. "To change them back just think the word revert and it will change back. As long as we're both wearing our charms we'll have a sense of how each other is doing. The spells Giles used are very powerful and they're virtually impossible to remove unless we choose to remove them ourselves or are in some way coerced to. Otherwise we'll always know how each other is but the closer we are the stronger the impressions will be so it can even function somewhat like a homing device as well. Strong shielding magic could block the signal, but it would have to be some major class mojo to overcome the layers of enchantment Giles placed on these. Anya built in some more traditional micronised components as well. We've all got at least one tracker like these on at all times and you've probably seen us wearing them without realising what you were seeing."

"You guys really do get all the cool toys." Liam says with a grin, reaching out and tracing the collar around his throat. "Why did you choose a collar rather than a necklace like mine?" It's all he can do to keep himself from grabbing Wil and declaring his total and complete ownership right here in this crappy parking lot. He's promised himself that he's going to take things slowly and rebuild the trust he threw away and not push Wil into a relationship that he doesn't want.

"And why does it have a rune that stands for your name rather than mine." Spike says completing the thought that he wouldn't let himself voice and he can only nod. Spike shrugs eloquently. "I've never understood the necessity for hiding everything I feel. Some men wear their hearts on their sleeves...I think I just look better wearing mine at my throat. Shall we dance?" Spike asks quirking his brow and heading for the sheltered stairway that conceals the actual entrance to the club that is built beneath the warehouse.

"I am not dancing in public Wil!" He growls striding after his chuckling pain in the ass and throwing an arm across his shoulders even as Spike's arm is swinging up to grasp his waist.

"That is of the public good Liam." Spike says with a chuckle, but tightens his arm around Liam's waist in a quick hug that takes the sting out of the comment as they queue up outside the club.

They share a derisive look as they make it into the club without setting off any of the spells designed to keep weapons out. While the potency of Giles' magic is formidable to be sure they were barely even brushed by cursory inspection by the bouncers on their way in.

"Well judging by that sterling display, I'd say three-quarters of the people in here are probably armed." Liam says disgusted.

Spike just steers him towards the upper level of the club and he's not overly surprised when a pair of burly Chaos Demons converge on them.

"Beatrice summons you, you will follow us." One of the bookend pair states in a voice not unlike nails across a chalkboard but the intent is clear that refusing to follow them is not an option.

Liam draws himself up to his full height and stares the pair down as only he can. Countless recruits have broken under that stare and two measly Chaos Demons are barely a challenge.

"You will please to come with us, Mistress Beatrice requests a meeting with you." The voice doesn't improve on the second go-around but the tone is much more to Liam's liking and he inclines his head in acknowledgement. Tightening his arm around Spike they follow the pair towards a large area cordoned off with ropes and diaphanous gossamer curtains. The two hulks part the waterfall of gossamer and wave them inside and they step through.

The large area has been cordoned off and a mountain of pillows overflows a lushly stuffed roman couch in a riot of shades of yellow and Liam notices that everything seems to be a shade of yellow. Even the two strange looking Demons positioned beside the riot of colour that is the couch are attired in leather of various shades of yellow. Amidst the riot of colour is a slender almost childlike woman who must be but barely five feet tall when she stands. A riot of blood red hair tumbles in a chaotic waterfall of curls and waves that must be almost as long as she is tall and it looks like it could easily weigh nearly as much. Her skin is a deep green shade like grass at the height of summer with a darker green mottling that sprinkles here and there about her deceptively fragile form. Small blood red horns and eyes betray a completely alien heritage but she is actually rather attractive as Demons go.

"It has been many cycles since you have graced my establishment Hunter." She turns those uncanny eyes towards Liam. "You've brought another Hunter." Her perusal is thorough and vaguely insulting but Liam force his facial features not to react with disgust and he shifts his hand to trace the edge of Spike's vest. He deliberately sweeps his hand upward until his fingertips can toy with the charm hanging from his collar playfully. The motion does not go undetected or unrewarded as black on red eyes widen. "No ordinary Hunter this one I see. You are most fortunate strange Hunter or perhaps most foolish. What you possess is the prize for all that walks with Demon blood in their veins and you are but human from the look of you." The speech manages to be respectful yet demeaning at the same time. "Still you are not unpleasant to the eye so I suppose one could see some redeeming value in you. You must be strong to have tamed one such as that."

"I prefer him untamed and as he is." Liam says simply, his lip curling in silent dismissal that scores a direct hit as those unsettling eyes flare with ire briefly and more fleetingly still...approval.

"Who or what he may be is not a concern of yours. We are here to speak to you about the state of affairs on the Hellmouth. We need only information. We are not here as vassals for your approval." Spike says sharply, his tone harsher than he intended but he can feel the threads of irritation coursing through Liam at this pretentious display and it shortens his own often short temper.

"That is fortunate Hunter or you would not be standing here as healthy as you are had you spoken to us in such a tone. I will tell you nothing until I am assured that nothing I tell you will break the treaty that protects this place. I must have certain assurances." The she-Demon says coyly.

"And what form will these assurances take?" Liam asks suspiciously.

"Something that will cause harm to neither of you." The she-Demon replies with a cagey smile. "You will dance and I will read your intentions and if you truly desire to harm none here and merely require information that is within my realm to give than I shall entertain these questions." Her eyes narrow. "The condition is non-negotiable as is my fee. These are my terms it is of no concern of mine whether you accept them or you leave."

"I will dance and meet the condition but with one of my own. We leave here in the condition we entered here with no obstruction." Spike says quietly, totally unsurprised by the condition. Liam glances at him and it strikes him that he likely realised that he would have to do as she asked at some point to not be taken by surprise by it now.

One of the Demons that escorted them to the curtained lounge returns and shuffles over to the padded lounge to whisper in the petite Hitler's ear and she pulls away with a tense nod.

"You will be escorted to the lower level. The DJ will give you a list of songs you may choose from and the stage will be yours when I return. You may go backstage and borrow something from the stable of dancers if you wish. There is an important call I must attend to and that will give you time to prepare yourself Hunter. For your sake I hope your intentions are true." The she-Demon snaps her fingers and one of the strange Humanoid Demons kneels and sweeps her into his arms and strides towards a staircase nearby with the other Demon following.

Spike turns so that it looks like he's cuddling Liam and stretches up to nibble idly on his earlobe. "Jheren Mercenaries, a rare Demon half-breed species. I was unaware that there were any in Sunnydale. They're fanatical fighters willing to die to the death for their contractors." Spike whispers beneath his breath under the façade of the embrace.

"You will follow...please." One of the Chaos Demons quickly corrects himself as Liam's gaze falls on him and they're lead back down the staircase to the main floor.

"Are you alright with this whole dancing thing?" Liam asks, taking an uneasy look around at some of the less than savoury goings-on in the club, punctuated by the occasional lash of a whip and an ecstatic moan.

Spike glances up at him through his lashes. "Remind me to ask you that after I dance."

Liam looks startled and he pulls away to look at Spike with a demand to know what he meant on the tip of his tongue but the gentle press of fingertips across his lips still the words. He steers Liam to a seat at the bar that overlooks the stage. He slips off his duster and hands it to him. He orders a large Irish whiskey for him and presses it into his hand before moving to the DJ booth with one of the Chaos Demons following him as the other stays behind hovering ponderously over his shoulder. He watches as Spike spends a few minutes leafing through a book before turning to show it to the DJ who grins hugely and looks impressed before giving him the universal thumbs up gesture. Spike turns and smiles before heading backstage.

Liam is sipping his whiskey and trying not to stare around the club at some of the activities that are going on in the crowd that seems singularly unconcerned with public propriety. He can feel that Wil is fine and in fact a subtle core of excitement is running through him that puzzles him somewhat.

He takes a sip of his whiskey and glances over towards the staircase in time to see the backs of a quartet of well dressed men making their way up. He can't get a very good look at them from the angle he's at but he notes they have a fine taste in suits as he turns his attention back to his drink. Almost fifteen minutes have passed and he's getting antsy. His patience with Wil's absence has about run its course when Beatrice appears still cradled in the arms of one of her attendants with the second ghosting closely behind them. Liam smirks as the Chaos Demon simply picks up the man sitting on the stool next to him and moves him down several stools; which have miraculously cleared at the sound of his menacing growl. The she-Demon is set down as careful as fragile china on the stool next to his. He's surprised to note that she seems tense and more than a little shaken and that her bodyguards are hovering particularly close.

Before he can ask her what's going on the house lights dim and rise several times and the crowd quiets marginally as many people make their way towards the stage as the opening strains of a song begins to play and the stage lights come up.

Spike stalks through the curtain; something thin and dark coiled around one arm and shoulder. He is still wearing that clothes that he was wearing when they came in but his skin glistens with a sleek shine under the stage lights. His stride is measured and slow, taking a step with what seems to be every beat of his heart until he is at the very end of the stage. He shimmies down until he's braced on one knee and stretches his hand out until he can almost touch the crowd.

A woman's voice joins the music saying something in what sounds like Italian but it is Wil's voice he hears as he speaks over the music, a small cordless microphone clipped to his vest. "When the darkness falls I will wait for you. I want to drive you crazy tonight with the full moon. I'll wait for you. Tonight you'll die in my arms. You never dreamt of anything like." His breath catches as he realises that Wil has translated the words for the crowd, his vanilla sweet and whiskey deep voice purring out over the crowd.

He throws himself back and snaps his arm down and the thin coil around his shoulder slowly unfurls. Liam inhales sharply as he recognises it's a bullwhip as he flicks his wrist and cracks it expertly, startling the crowd into taking several startled steps away only to surge back with a roar of approval.

Let me dive in
To pools of sin
Wet black leather on my skin
Show me the floor
Lay down the law
I need to taste you more

He cracks the whip again coiling it around one of the poles as he lunges forward and uses its support to stop his head long flight towards the crowd until he is almost near enough to touch. A smooth flex of his arm muscles pull him back and into a lazy swing around the pole ending up on his knees with the whip coiled around the pole and his own body.

Then I feel your sea
Raining down on me
Can this be my once in a lifetime
Hell's at heaven's door
As I need you more
You know you're my once in a lifetime

He pauses for only a moment before sinking to his knees slowly, his head thrown back until one can almost imagine him kneeling in obeisance before his Master. He undulates slowly against his bonds as that siren's voice once more coils and slinks among the crowd. "Your whole body will tremble. But this time is reality. Though the time will pass; you'll never, never forget. It will be only once in your life."

He throws his body to the side deflecting around the pole and loosening the grip of the leather but its embrace is jealous. Faint red marks where the rough whip has abraded his skin show in stark relief against the perfection of his skin and Liam feels his mouth go dry as Wil dances, his eyes locked on him.

He sucks in a breath as Wil cracks the whip around the pole and deliberately around his own wrist as he throws himself forward, his arms outstretched, the braided leather pulled taut until he hovers like an Angel halfway between heaven and Earth.

When you take me
And make me cry
Then I feel you satisfy
Show me the cage
It's all the rage
And lock it up

He uses the strength in his arms to slowly pull himself, mocking a struggle against the unyielding leather as his body writhes and thrusts in seemingly helpless ecstasy against the unyielding metal of the pole his back is now pressed to.

Found a part of me
That's a mystery
That will be just once in a lifetime
When the moon is high
Passion never dies
Will you want me for all a lifetime?

Liam can feel the weight of Wil's gaze on him and he watches him mouth the words as he is suddenly gone again lost back into the rhythms of the suggestive dance. His gaze narrows as one eager young woman throws herself at the stage only to be flung back with a pained cry as the whip kisses over her unprotected skin. Her boldness seems to inspire others but Wil is no more merciful in dealing with them as he was the young woman as the bullwhip's cry herald's more than one pained cry.

Once in a lifetime
Once in a lifetime
Once in a lifetime

Slowly and methodically Wil uses the whip to truss himself to the pole as he sinks slowly to his knees, letting his eyes fall away only at the last moment as he drops his head forward to lower his eyes. Liam is on his feet and striding for the stage before he realises what he's going to do as he realises that what's he's hearing is Wil's public declaration of his feelings. The site of him with his perfect skin red and abraded by the unforgiving leather of the whip is an erotic obscenity.

Giving you my soul
Letting you control
Took away a part of my lifetime
Memories of you
Left me black and blue
Now I know you're once in a lifetim

He growls as he clamps his hands down on an ignorant man trying to clamber onto the stage and he physically throws him aside to vault onto the stage himself. He is at Wil's side in a heartbeat, uncoiling the whip from around the pole and freeing him only to twine the whip around his neck and bring his head back until he can stare up at him. He can see the dark hunger burning in his eyes and he knows that here at last is the one that he has been looking for; the one that can accept the darkness that lurks in his soul and embrace it.

Then I feel your sea
Raining down on me
Can this be my once in a lifetime
Hell's at heaven's door
As I need you more
You know you're my once in a lifetime

He uses the whip to bring him back to his feet and yanks him around until his back is pressed so tightly to his chest that a piece of paper couldn't fit between them and he moves them in a parody of a more private dance that brings the crowd roaring forward.

Found a part of me
That's a mystery
That will be just once in a lifetime
When the moon is high
Passion never dies
Will you want me for all a lifetime?

They dance for each other, for the feelings that they can't express in words, for the emotions that have no words. They are emotion in motion, the seamless connection of one body to another; binary stars trapped forever in an eternal orbit that they can neither escape nor want to. They belong together.

As Spike dances for him Liam cracks the whip at some of the more foolhardy spectators in the crowd as they press their luck and the extent of his goodwill. No one touches his Wil without paying the price in the stinging lash of the bullwhip.

For Wil the touch of the whip is almost a caress barely scoring that perfect skin as Liam twines and coils it around the boneless writhing form that is dancing for him and only for him. They move together and apart as the tide rushes onto the beach only with rush out once more but no farther than the precise distance of the whip as they are lost in the timeless moment.

Then I feel your sea
Raining down on me
Can this be my once in a lifetime?
Hell's at heaven's door
As I need you more
You know you're my once in a lifetime

Wil's dancing slows as he sinks into the same pose that he was in when Liam jumped up onto the stage to dance with him. He feels the gentle benediction of the whip coiling silkily around his neck as it was before and he lets his head fall back in total surrender on the last chorus of the song.

Found a part of me
That's a mystery
That will be just once in a lifetime

Liam cups his hand behind his head, sinking his hand into his hair and yanks his head back farther as his mouth dives down crashing into Wil's mouth as he surges upward to meet him and the stage lights go out on the last beat of the song. The roar of the crowd is deafening as the house lights come back up to reveal the still ardently embracing couple and it has not the least effect on the pair. The kiss parts leisurely as Liam cradles Wil, his hand gently rubbing over the red marks, encouraging the already fading marks to give up their hold on the perfection of Wil's skin.

Liam straightens and lifts Wil easily to his feet, cracking the whip a final time and wrapping it around the pole and letting it fall untended to the stage. He strides to the edge of the stage and leaps off with easy grace and smiles with predatory pleasure as the crowd surges back to make room. He turns towards the stage and lifts his arms towards Wil and smiles as he stalks over and lets him lift him gently down to the floor with a romantic flourish Rudolph Valentino would have envied.

They stroll back towards the bar and they're surprised to see that Beatrice still looks shaken and disturbed, so much so that the drink in her hand actually sloshes over the side as her hand quakes faintly. "Indeed that was a truly inspiring performance, Hunters. If you were other than what you are I would hire you to dance upon my stage every night. Ask your questions and I will answer what I may. Take heed however, I will not answer what is beyond my code of neutrality." Her voice betrays none of the weakness that her physical form gives away.

Liam lifts Wil and sets him on the barstool much to his amusement and secret delight. Beatrice flutters her hand towards the bartender and a glass of whiskey appears at his elbow. Wil takes a sip before passing the glass to Liam, who shakes his head and motions for him to take another drink. As soon as Wil moves the glass aside to set it down Liam's leans down, his tongue sweeping out to catch the drops glistening on his lips. "Mmm delicious." He says softly.

"Yes, that's a fairly decent whiskey." Wil agrees, nodding a thank you as the taller of Beatrice's bodyguards steps forward and hands him back his duster and he slips it on.

"That wasn't bad either." Liam says leaning down to kiss him gently once more before straightening and pushing his feelings aside to be all business. "Demon activity has trebled over the last couple of days. Is there any particular reason for that?" He asks directly.

Beatrice looks fairly nervous as she answers. "They have heard that the Hellmouth once more has a Master. It is said he is an old one and that his powers extend beyond his kind. I have heard tales whispered among the Vampires that he is a messiah of some sort." Beatrice shrugs but it's clear that she knows more than she is willing to disclose. "You know how it is among the Vampires, they're always talking of this prophecy or that omen or that sign. I have always found it amusing that such beings should be so almost religious zealot over such matters."

"Who is this new Master?" Spike asks curiously. He must be very strong indeed if he is inspiring such talks and among more than just the Vampires.

"I do not know. It is said that only the Vampires have seen him, that he deals with other Demons only through intermediaries. Some say that to meet him face to face is to court a final end to all cares." Beatrice's voice shakes faintly and Liam and Wil share an uneasy glance.

The wealthy matron is one of the richest and most well connected Demons in Sunnydale and yet her demeanour clearly betrays her fear of the mysterious Master of the Hellmouth.

"I have heard no talk of his name though it is said that his inner circle all bear the mark of his regard but I have heard no tales of what that mark may be. I have seen no such Vampires before."

"We will not trouble you farther Matron and we thank you for your counsel on this matter." Spike says solemnly, wrapping his arm around Liam's bicep and squeezing lightly.

"Hunters, your dance showed your hearts to me, beware this new Master for his power is great and his evil is greater. Do not seek the sign of salvation when the faith that you need is beside you." Beatrice says sounding unexpectedly concerned and the pair shares a glance of silent communion.

Liam gets the message and they bow their heads politely and quickly make their way out of the club. Their performance from earlier seems to have made a lasting impression as the crowd parts easily for them and respectful nods and signs of respect herald's their departure.

"Well what have we learned?" Spike asks rhetorically as they nod to the bouncers who hurry to push open the doors for them.

As soon as they are out and the door has closed behind them Liam sweeps Spike up and carries him bodily back to the motorcycle and drops him none too gently onto the seat. "I'll tell you what I learned tonight." Liam growls straddling the motorcycle and pressing Spike down under his weight. "Fuck slow." He snarls as he swoops down to take what is his from the more than willing man melting beneath his weight and straining up to meet his passionate assault.
 

Epilogue

Beatrice trembles faintly as her bodyguard carries her into the lavishly decorated office that overlooks the club. The two Jherens have been with her for nearly forty years and the mated pair is almost as dear as her own blood relations. She motions to be set down and sweeps her hair over her arm as she gathers his filmy skirts in her hand and moves daintily into the room under her own steam.

She looks at the back of a well dressed man as he stands looking out of the one way glass and down into the club. Two large and intimidating Vampires flank him and looks more than a little menacing. Beatrice walks to a DVD recorder and pushes the stop button and ejects the disk once it stops writing and carefully places it into a clear plastic jewel case.

"You are dismissed." She says imperiously as she passes by her bodyguards who have arrayed themselves to counter the two large bruisers that have accompanied the mysterious man watching her club with the steady eyes of a hawk. The guards don't move until she repeats herself in a decidedly chill tone that has them bowing and leaving as she ordered.

She crosses the room and carefully set the case with the DVD disk down on the coffee table.

"Is that everything?" The voice is calm and refined, the English accent softened into the unusual mixed cadence of a habitual world traveller.

"Yes, it is Milord." Beatrice replies taking a seat gracefully at the edge of one of the antique chairs. "The camera is set up to record anything that that happens on the stage."

"Who was the other man with the Hunter?" The voice is still cool and calm but sharpened with a hint of curiosity, deepened by desire, and tinged with a hint of jealousy.

"I suspect that he is the one that the Demons call Angel, after the Angel of Death I believe. If it is, than he is a very formidable warrior Milord and a dangerous ally for the Hunter." Beatrice replies.

"He must be formidable to have caught his attention." The comment is spoken low and she knows that it was not meant for her ears but merely a vocalisation of his thoughts.

"Milord if I may ask a question?" Beatrice begins hesitantly.

"You may ask but that by no means obliges that I must answer." The cool voice replies.

"It is said that you fell to this very Hunter, Milord. Yet you stand here before me..."

"It was not the Hunter that sent me to my end but one of his incessantly bothersome companions. The former vengeance Demon, the one they called Anyanka. As for how I am before you now..." The man turns away from the window and smiles chillingly. "I had some very good lawyers." He strides over to pick up the disk and slips it carefully into the pocket of his trench coat before folding the coat back over the arm of the chair.

"Lawyers, Milord? I do not understand."

"My Sire was unwilling to let my death pass without a vengeance. She made, if you'll pardon this phrase, a Devil's bargain with some lawyers. Drusilla was always more of a looker than a thinker and she failed to note the small print on the contract. The lawyers did indeed fulfil their part of the contract but for a Demon returned one must be claimed. Drusilla died trying to kill the Slayer and she fulfilled her part of the contract as she was consigned to Hell, so I was freed and restored as I was. She did try so hard but The Master had driven her quite mad you know? She perished and had nothing to show for it but the worthless life of one of the Slayers lap dogs."

"I am sorry Milord; that you lost a Sire and Mate at once." Beatrice says batting her eyelashes in what she probably thinks is a flirtatious manner.

"I'm not sorry. Drusilla just saved me the time and effort of staking her myself. She had become an encumbrance that I no longer need or desire. I have other plans for who will rule the Hellmouth beside me." His voice and the pointed disgust on his face all but shout that it will never her regardless of what delusions she may have begun to harbour. "Though, I may have to change my plans somewhat in light of this development. I did not foresee this occurrence." He adds almost as an afterthought.

She straightens haughtily and sniffs. "I have fulfilled your demands, Milord. I told the Hunter what you wanted him to know and I lied about the rest. May I request the life of my worthless Nephew? Krevlorneswath may be a screw up but he is still family." She heaves a sigh that speaks loudly of her burdensome family obligations.

"We have only one last order of business to conduct and then your nephew will be returned to you as we agreed." The Vampire snaps his fingers and in the blink of an eye his bodyguards are on the helpless she-Demon and she is drained within minutes and her neck is broken just to be sure that she will be troubling them no longer. "Lies are costly commodities." He snaps his fingers. "Bring me the other one." He orders and one of the bodyguards is on his feet and out the door within seconds.

He growls as he sees the remaining minion starting to dig his clawed fingernail into the lifeless cheek of the corpse. "I told you to not mark them any longer." He backhands the minion viciously sending him tumbling to the carpet in a quivering mass of whimpered apologies. A swift kick in the ribs is the only answer to his pleas for forgiveness. "Ignorant fool, I have not gone to the effort to remain anonymous for this long just to have it ruined by a sack of skin like you."

The door opens and the other bodyguard shoves in a talkative man in a well tailored if garishly hued yellow lame leisure suit. He is rambling pointlessly about some drivel that peters to silence as he stares at the corpse of his Aunt.

"As you can see the club has recently changed owners. You will run the club for me and you will do it well or this is a fate you will share and I will find someone else that can do as I command."

"I...I've never run a nightclub before Milord. I would not know how to run..." The stuttering Pylean begins. He turns to face the enigmatic stare of the man looking at him so coldly. The cross carved deeply into his cheek looks painfully inflamed in the bright light of the office and brings a smile to the Vampire's lips at last.

"We all have our crosses to bear. I suggest that you learn how to carry yours quickly." The Vampire replies icily as he picks up his coat and motions to his minions and they head for the door.

"Yes, Milord Penn. I will try." The Pylean swears as the trio of Vampires leaves and he sinks to his knees, boneless and broken at beside the body of his Aunt. "Well Lorne, this is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into and I don't think any Guardian Angel's going to swoop in and save you this time." He says mournfully to himself as he strokes his Aunt's hair and buries his tears in the blood red tresses.
 

The End of Lay Down The Law: The Soldier Diaries Part Four

In Part Five Of The Series: Penn's plans progress as Liam and Spike race to discover the identity of the new Master of the Hellmouth and Riley's secret life is revealed.