The Crypt: Most Favored by Mithril

Author: Mithril

Title: Most Favored

Pairing: Angel/Spike

Rating: Adult, Slash & Het

Summary: The Aurelius Clan chooses a new Master

Distribution: Various S/A friendly lists.

Spoilers: Post NFA. Angel slays the dragon, and the battle is won with Illyria's manipulation of time, which also results in Wesley's return. Angel, Spike, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred/Illyria are now back in the 'Angel Investigation' business. All live in the Hyperion.

Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or Spike or anything else from ME.

Feedback: Always welcome.

Part 78:

Wesley and Gunn exchanged a short glance, then both nodded and followed Illyria into her room. Two minutes later the vampires arrived on the wing. They moved to their own rooms silently, and entered them alone.

Once in his dark room, Spike sagged back against the door as though he'd used all the energy he had just to make it this far.

Don't belong, don't belong, don't belong...

Angel's words went round and round in Spike's head until he could hear nothing else.

I don't belong to him any more...

He didn't have a sire anymore, didn't have a home or family, not really. Without a sire nothing else mattered, nothing else counted. A vampire without his maker, that's what he was. For the better part of a century he'd been able to live with that absence because his sire hadn't denied him, he'd simply, with one notable exception, vanished. He might have been dust for all they knew, at least after their meeting in the sub, and though that was a horrendous thought that he adamantly refused to accept, there was, strangely enough, some small bit of comfort in it when held up against the completely unacceptable thought that his sire simply didn't want him any more. And though for a while he'd tried to convince himself otherwise, ultimately he knew that Angelus hadn't come to the sub to find and rescue him; he'd been completely incidental to his sire's purpose, unplanned and unlooked for. Extraneous. Useless.

Which brought him back to the distressing thought that this incarnation of his sire, like the one of the twentieth century in total, didn't want him any more.

There had been no happy reconciliation or attempt to resolve the wide chasm that separated them, though not for lack of trying on his part, Spike told himself emphatically. Once they'd met again in Sunnydale he'd pushed and pushed and pushed. He'd even tortured his sire – a sure-fire way to meet an early end – not with the intention of simply recovering the gem, but to get the older vampire's notice, his acknowledgment. Punishment for that offense at least would have let Spike know that Angel or Angelus or whatever the hell he called himself these days, still considered himself his sire.

But no, there had been nothing. No recognition, and no retribution – which at least would have been a form of acknowledgement. More often than not it seemed Angel didn't even see him, and when he did, it was usually to treat him with disdain or indifference. Lately they'd settled into a less combative relationship, but there was still that absence of acknowledgment, until the day that Thomas had arrived, bearing a message from Jardin.

So much had happened in the days that followed. On that very day, in fact, Angel had admitted that he still was and always had been his sire, but for Spike, it was too little too late. He needed more proof than words now, but at every attempt made, he'd pushed away and resisted. Something in him couldn't really believe that anyone, much less the great and mighty Angelus, could really want him. And now, despite what he'd said to him in the cage room a few weeks ago, Angel was once again proving his childe's long-held suspicions; his sire didn't want him any more.

He didn't say he didn't want you, a small voice inside insisted.

Maybe not in so many words, but close enough, a more strident voice replied. He's relinquished sire rights, and a vampire doesn't do that unless he wants nothing more to do with the childe he made, the voice added with disgust.

Not because he doesn't want you, but because you insisted on it weeks ago in the cage, when you wouldn't admit his authority over you, the quiet voice whispered.

No, because he was tired of the thankless responsibilities for so useless a childe, the harsher voice replied.

"Shut up shut up shut up!"

He didn't even realize he'd spoken the words out loud. Spike sank down to the floor with his back against the door and his head in his hands, trying to shut out the voices. Hours later he fell asleep in the same spot, exhausted but no closer to a solution than he'd been when he'd started.

* * *

By late afternoon, when he finally woke, Spike had regained his composure. William had always been massively insecure about his own self-worth, and that was a trait that had survived his turning. Spike, however, was far too clever a creature to let others see that side of him. He was the Big Bad, and doubts be damned. So though he feared, deep inside, that the oldest and strongest relationship he'd ever had; that of childe to sire, was severely damaged if not permanently destroyed, he would hold his head up high and be what he could; William the Bloody, Right Hand to Angelus, Scourge of Europe, and Lieutenant and beta to the same, Angelus, now Master of Aurelius. He would do what he could to protect Angel, his House, Clan and Order, because no matter how he'd deny it to Angel and Buffy and anyone else, human or demon, he loved his sire and always would.

With that in mind he picked himself up, showered and changed, and headed downstairs to meet with the others, his Big Bad persona fully in place.

* * *

The day went smoothly, though there was an air of tension hanging over everyone, seemingly attributable to the upcoming meeting with Thomas to transfer the marks and instructions, but affected as well by the on-going if largely silent dynamic between Angel and Spike. The day's agenda was a simple one; Angel would work on his paintings and the others would begin to ready the sixteen rooms for their guests. Training would go on as planned from ten AM until two PM, with a short break taken when Thomas arrived. The last third of the day would be filled with the same activities as the first third.

Wesley, Gunn and Illyria's first training session went on according to schedule and uninterrupted. They finished at midnight, as usual, and Thomas had not yet arrived. Spike had instructed them to bring their clothes for the weapons training session down with them at the start of their pet training, and at the conclusion of that session Wesley and Gunn looked about for a private spot to take care of the problem they inevitably had after wearing a cockring and being fully erect for the subsequent two hours.

"Illyria, help them out," Spike instructed coolly before leaving the hall and heading upstairs to get the leather satchel, which was still stored in a hollow spot beneath the floorboards of the study.

* * *

Angel stepped back to take a look at the four canvases lined up before him and nodded, satisfied with his progress. The one he'd done so long ago sat among them. He used it as a constant guide as he worked on two of the other three, ensuring the continuity he wanted was present. Suddenly a low moan whispered to him from down the hall. He set down the paint-laden brush, left the cage room and made his way down the short hallway to the great room.

The door stood open, which was, no doubt, why he'd been able to hear such a low sound from within. When he reached the door he stood still, staring across the space. Spike was nowhere in sight, but the three pets certainly were. Though their training must have just ended, they were still naked, and completely oblivious to his presence, with good reason. Wesley sat on one of the benches lining the wall, legs spread wide, and Illyria knelt between them, his cock deep in her mouth.

Angel thought it was probably Wesley's moan he'd heard, as the ex-Watcher's head was thrown back against the wall, eyes shut and mouth open, however it might also have been Gunn's, who knelt behind Illyria pumping his own cock deep into her body, licking against the back of her neck as he did. Angel leaned against the doorjamb and watched, pleasure curling in his gut, his cock and balls tightening in response.

Angel had always been a bit of a voyeur, enjoying it almost as much at times as actually participating, or, as was more often the case, being the central object of his sire's and/or his childer's sexual attentions. Perhaps one of the most erotic things about this particular view was that Wesley, totally immersed in sensation, stroked one hand along the smooth crown of Illyria's head, and the other upon Gunn's equally bald one. That action seemed so foreign to the English ex-Watcher Angel had first come to know, and that served to highlight how much had changed between them all recently. Angel's pleasure deepened and a low, soft purr filled his chest.

The pace between the three pets quickened and now both Gunn and Wesley were moaning, their sounds a symphony of pleasure to merge with the slick stroke of Gunn's prick in Illyria's tight channel and the delicious slurping noise of Illyria's mouth on Wesley's cock. It was a sensual delight, and without thought Angel reached down to lightly stroke his own growing erection beneath the fabric of the thin workout pants he tended to wear while painting. Angel was panting now, his unnecessary breath gusting while the purr in his chest changed to rumbling growl.

"Like what you see, Peaches?"

Angel jerked his hand away and turned to find Spike standing behind him, leaning on the wall just outside the room, the leather satchel slung over his shoulder. He must have just come from upstairs, and Angel was mortified that he hadn't been aware of his approach. He slid around the jamb and out of sight from the three within to face the blond vampire. There was nothing he could do about his erection, so he didn't bother trying, instead just crossing his arms over his chest and sighing.

"It's a pretty sight," he agreed with a shrug. "Your doing?"

Spike nodded, his face completely neutral. "No more alone time in their rooms between sessions. Told Illyria to help them out. I take if they're following my instructions by the sounds?" he asked, inclining his head towards the door five feet away.

"Seems so." Angel's face as expressionless as his childe's.

A sound further down the hall, past the cage room, ended their conversation abruptly.

"That'll be Thomas," Spike said. "Why don't you wait in there," he said, pointing back to the room where Angel spent most of his day painting now. "I'll let him in and then come for you so you can make an entrance," he said.

Angel nodded and Spike handed him the satchel, then both headed down the hall toward the primary underground entrance. Angel disappeared into the cage room and Spike continued on alone.

Angel heard Spike and Thomas pass his room a few minutes later, heading toward the hall, but it was a bit longer than Angel expected before Spike came back for him. He was just about to ignore Spike's plan for a grand entrance, when a knock on the door heralded his childe's arrival. Angel grabbed the satchel, opened the door, stepped through it, then quickly shut it behind him to keep the paintings concealed.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just had to help Thomas with your chair – they brought it with them."

"Good. One more thing out of the way," he said as they made their way toward the hall. As they approached the magically lit space, they overheard an exchange between Gunn and Thomas.

"What are you staring at, boy?" Gunn growled menacingly.

"This pet. She has undergone the Succubus spell," Thomas replied calmly.

"That's none of your business. Keep your damn eyes to yourself," Gunn said, the anger in his voice ratcheting up several notches.

Angel and Spike exchanged a horrified glance and hurried into the room.

"Gunn," Angel called out as they passed through the doorway. "On your knees."

"Minion here was staring at Blue," Gunn explained, gesturing to Thomas angrily and still on his feet. All three pets were still naked.

"On your knees," Angel repeated slowly, his eyes flashing yellow.

Spike's hand was suddenly pressing on his shoulder and Gunn's eyes widened. He sank to his knees in the at-attention position with Angel and Spike standing to either side of him.

Angel turned to face Jardin's oldest and most trusted minion who had quickly sunk to a knee in obeisance. "I apologize for my pet's inexcusable rudeness, Thomas, both to yourself and to your Clan. He's fairly new and not yet fully trained."

"Thank you, Master Angelus," Thomas said, eyes still trained downward. "You are most gracious to one so insignificant."

Angel nodded over Gunn's head to his childe, who nodded grimly in return, then moved over to rummage through one of the chests by the wall.

"I know you must get back to your master tonight, but you will delay your leave-taking a few minutes more to witness this pet's punishment," Angel explained.

"Yes, Master Angelus." Thomas rose an instant later when he felt Angel's touch on his shoulder.

"Come with me and I'll give you the package and instructions you came for while he is prepared."

They moved to the stage and Angel sat in the chair that had been placed there just a few minutes before. He opened up the satchel and gave the minimal instructions regarding its contents and care for the return journey to Jardin while Spike busied himself with the pets on the main floor. Apparently finding what he sought, Spike returned to the pets, his hands full of leather and chains. He didn't stop beside them, but continued on until he stood at the center of the pentacle.

"Over here, Charles," he commanded.

Gunn started to stand, but was stopped by Spike instantly.

"Crawl," he commanded coldly.

Gunn looked up in surprise, but something in Spike's face brooked no argument. He fell forward onto his hands and crawled into the star.

"Illyria, Wesley," Spike called out.

The two other pets, still both naked, joined him.

"Stand," Spike commanded Gunn who once more knelt at attention, this time at the center of the star.

Gunn stood up, watching Spike warily while managing to not look directly at him.

Spike handed off the manacles and chains to Wesley. "Secure him," he instructed. He drew Illyria away and quietly whispered his instructions to her, then she returned, dropped to her knees before Gunn and began to suck his now-quiescent cock.

Although he was human, Gunn was a young man, and despite the dire situation he now found himself in, his prick responded to the overwhelming stimulus of Illyria's hot mouth and vibrating tongue ring. He groaned as it pressed into the slit, grasping at the chains that were now attached to the manacles about his wrists, holding his hands separated and high above his head. When he was fully erect, Illyria pulled back and wrapped a simple leather band about the base of his cock and balls. She remained on her knees before him, though, now in the at-rest position.

Wesley finished securing the ankle manacles and stepped outside the star, a worried frown on his face, his eyes locked on Gunn's, who stared at him with fear, anger and distress. Wesley shook his head, subtly trying to silently warn him to keep quiet, and for once Gunn did, no doubt sensing that he had already pushed the limits once today and to do so again would make things only worse.

Spike joined Thomas to stand before Angel.

"He's ready, sire," he said. "Since he still has so much to learn, I thought we'd combine this punishment with a pleasure/pain training session, if it suits you," Spike added.

Angel nodded his agreement. "Ten lashes."

Spike stepped off the stage, pointed to a spot on the floor near the front and commanded Wesley to kneel, then stepped into the center of the star once more. He crouched down to whisper to Illyria once again, and she nodded her understanding. Finally he rose up and looked directly into Gunn's eyes.

"Your master has commanded ten lashes for your insolence, Charles. You will count each one out as they're delivered. For any you miss, you'll receive an extra. Do you understand?"

Gunn's mouth tightened, but he glanced at Wesley face and then back at Spike's and then nodded. "Yes, Master William," he whispered hoarsely.

Spike saw the side glance, but ignored it. Things were bad enough without making it worse. "Good."

Spike moved behind him and unfurled the multi-tailed leather flogger he carried. He called out "Patesco Aurelius," and the flames sprang up, activating the star. A second later the first stroke came quickly, leaving red welts along Gunn's back.

"One!" Gunn cried out, jerking forward as though to escape the lash. At almost the same instant he jerked back, shocked to feel Illyria's mouth upon him once more.

One by one Spike struck, and for each one, Gunn counted the progress loudly. All the while Illyria knelt at his feet, her talented mouth and teeth and tongue working his poor flesh to a state of extreme stimulation, not despite of, but perhaps because of the contrasting pain against his battered back. It was a pain Gunn had never experienced before, as he no longer recalled his time spent in that special hell where he'd had his heart cut out on a daily basis. What he wasn't aware of was how careful Spike was being, and how lucky he was as a consequence. Only a few stripes actually bled through open skin. All the rest were raised welts, the smallest amount of damage it was possible to do with the flogger he had chosen.

Before him, on the stage and seated in the Master's chair, Angel watched sternly while Thomas stood beside him.

As soon as Spike made the last stroke, just as Gunn hoarsely called out "Ten," Illyria pulled off the leather band and squeezed his balls firmly while sucking hard. The hoarse cry escalated into a keening wail as he climaxed, the pleasure of his orgasm cresting on the pain of the lashing. He convulsed helplessly in the chains, but Illyria didn't stop until his balls were wrung dry. When she finally pulled her mouth from him he collapsed in the irons, hanging almost unconscious. Spike dropped the flogger to the floor, called out "Arceo Aurelius," and stepped around Gunn and past the extinguishing flames to mount the stage.

"Done, sire."

"Are you satisfied, Thomas?"

Thomas bowed low. "Of course, Master Angelus."

"Then Spike will lead you out. The remainder of this pet's punishment will be completed when you return."

Thomas bowed again, then followed Spike out of the chamber.

Only when the door was firmly shut behind them did Angel rise from his chair and step down into the pentacle. He gestured Illyria aside and she took up a kneeling position near Wesley. Angel stepped up to within inches of Gunn.

"Look at me, Gunn," he said softly.

Gunn groaned and lifted his head, opening his eyes to slowly focus on the dark-haired vampire standing before him.

"Do you know why you were punished?"

"I... I insulted Thomas," he finally said. "But he's a minion and Spike said pets have status over minions," he croaked out.

"With the exception of the oldest and most trusted minions who are recognized by their masters," Spike modified as he re-entered the hall and approached to stand beside his sire. "You must have realized that Thomas was such a minion when he was sent as a personal messenger for Jardin, and by his actions during the conclave," the blond added, frowning.

Gunn sighed, then groaned. "I suppose I did," he admitted. "I was just so angry."

"You have to learn to control your anger, Charles," Angel said quietly. Pets are humans living among vampires, and even the weakest minion could kill you instantly if given the opportunity. Thomas has been with Jardin from the moment he set up his first House, before he became the head of the clan upon his sire's passing. Jardin trusts him completely and has recognized him not only at the House level, but at the Clan level as well. To insult Thomas is to insult the Clan of Jardin and the Steward of Aurelius. Do you understand what you've done?"

Gunn nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry."

Angel sighed. "I'm sorry, too. Maybe it will help if I tell you that the flogger Spike used could have easily stripped the flesh from your back had he used his full strength. The severity of that punishment would not have been unreasonable or unheard of given the offense. Instead you have little more than welts to show for it. That doesn't change the fact that I couldn't spare you this pain. I'm sorry," he repeated."

Gunn shook his head. "Had to do it, honor of the House. I understand," he said.

Angel stared at him, frowning, for a moment more before he spoke again. "Maybe you won't when I explain that this was just the first of two punishments required to right the wrong done to the Clan of Jardin today."

"One?" Suddenly Gunn was standing upright, no longer letting the chains bear his weight.

"The other requirement is that you be put at Thomas' disposal for a period of twenty-four hours. This will happen when he returns for the meeting in two weeks."

"No fucking way!" Gunn broke in.

Angel raised a hand and placed his fingers over Gunn's lips, stopping the protest mid-stream.

"Twenty-four hours when you will stay by his side as a servant to do his bidding. I can forbid any additional physical punishment, since this part has already concluded, but I can't stop him from taking... other liberties."

"Other liberties? What do you..." The light went on and Gunn's eyes widened. "Oh no, oh no I won't. I'm not going to... No, no, no," Gunn repeated, shaking his head adamantly.

"I am the Master of Aurelius, but I can't change this, Gunn, not without the whole Order suffering. Too much rests upon my position in the Order now and our plan for us to risk that. The only way you can get out of fulfilling your obligation is by leaving us. By running. I would have to pretend to send others after you, but of course I wouldn't, if you chose that option. You'd never be safe out there without us, though. You bear my mark, and without the protection of your Clan..."

Angel didn't finish his sentence, but just shook his head, frowning. "And we want you here, all of us," he said indicating Spike at his side and the two pets behind him.

They all nodded their agreement.

"Think about it tonight and tell me tomorrow what you've decided. I'll do whatever I can to help you, either way. Talk with Wesley and Illyria; let them advise you. You two," he said, turning his attention to the pets behind him. "Take him down and care for his wounds. I want you both to stay with him tonight. Spike, we're finished for the day."

Spike nodded, but stayed behind with the pets. Angel left the hall quickly and returned to the cage room. Most of the space was filled with his canvases and materials, so instead he entered the cage itself and prowled about the tight interior, trying to pace away his agitation. Finally, after he heard the others climbing the stairs to the lobby, he left the room and slipped away to the underground entry and into the sewers below. He badly needed to kill something right now and luckily for him L.A. was teeming with demons that needed to be killed.

* * *

"Feeling better?" the familiar voice broke through the darkness.

Of course Angel could see perfectly well despite that darkness, but Spike had also been sitting perfectly still, and like so many other predators, a vampire's visual cues frequently keyed in on motion first. There was still no motion, but he identified the location of the voice easily, and saw Spike sitting on the round lounge at the center of the lobby, facing the stairs from the basement. He'd been waiting for his return, it seemed.

Angel shrugged. "Yeah, a little," he finally admitted,

"Could have told me you were leaving for a bit," the blond said, but there was no real reprimand in his voice. Angelus had always been stronger than almost any other of their kind, and the powers he'd inherited upon his ascension to Master of Aurelius pretty much cemented that superiority.

"Standing guard?" Angel asked, sitting down beside his childe with a sigh. "It wasn't necessary with the wards in place, you know."

Spike paused for a moment, then shook his head. There was no way he would admit he'd been worried about the big lummox despite knowing it was unnecessary. "No, just couldn't sleep; it's not even dawn yet." At that exact moment, and in contrast to his words, Spike yawned. Angel grinned and Spike smiled sheepishly in return. "Okay, maybe a bit tired now," he admitted.

Angel nodded, and then his smile disappeared. "What do you think will happen?" he finally asked after a long silence.

"Gunn will stay. Can't see it going any other way," his childe replied.

"He's not trained for this. He's not ready," Angel said, obviously worried.

"Got two weeks; there's time to prepare him," Spike said with a shrug. "Sides, Thomas knows he's new, so his expectations will be low. You can have a little private talk with him, make sure he goes easy on your new pet. You know he'll do as you ask."

"Yeah, he would. But how do you propose Gunn be prepared?" Angel asked, a sarcastic note creeping into his voice.

Underneath it Spike heard the worry and so ignored the sarcasm.

"My guess is he'll request that you complete the claiming ritual. He'll require additional training after that anyway."

Angel frowned. "Why do you think he'd ask for that?"

"Cause Blue already told Wes and Charlie-boy that she has status over them since she's completed the ritual and they haven't. Started bossing them around at drills yesterday, apparently. Anyway, neither of them is too happy with having lesser status, especially Gunn. I reckon this will be the chance he needs to make the leap."

Angel thought about that for a minute, then nodded. "Maybe," he agreed as he stood up. Spike followed suit and they headed for the stairs. "Is Gunn all right?"

"He's fine – the others, too," he added before Angel could ask.

"Good. Spike, I'm sorry it had to be you who administered the punishment. Gunn's your friend..."

"It's my job. I know that and he knows that. And he's your friend, too, Angel. Don't ever doubt that," Spike added before entering his room and closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

Gunn normally woke up quickly, but not this day. Today he was groggy and disoriented. It took a while before he could get his bearings, but when he did it was all physical sensation. As usual his wake-up erection throbbed high and hard. Normally it held all his attentions upon waking, but today there was something else that claimed the lion's share, and that was his back.

It hurt a little, but not as much as he'd expected, which might be attributable to the fact that before Spike had allowed Wes and Blue to take him out of the chains, he'd thoroughly licked each cut and welt first. Gunn had found it, oddly enough, both distasteful and erotic in equal measures. He was so disturbed by the whole procedure he didn't know what to think or say, and so wisely kept his mouth shut.

He wasn't going to think about that now, though, because despite the residual pain in his back, he felt amazingly comfortable as he lay on his belly on a nice, soft bed, with two nice, warm bodies on either side of him, and a nice hard cock waiting to be played with. At that thought his eyes popped open to find Illyria looking back at him. That meant that the body on his other side was Wesley. He shifted his head on the pillow and found the ex-Watcher awake as well, and watching him expectantly.

"How are you feeling?" Wesley asked.

"Not bad, all things considered," he finally replied slowly.

And that was true. The pain was minimal at best. It really didn't bother him at all. What bothered him was the horrendous itching that felt like ants were crawling all over him.

"Not much damage was done," Illyria said in her clinical way. "And a vampire's saliva has healing properties." She pulled the blanket down to bare his back for her inspection. "The cuts are closed and the welts are almost gone," she confirmed, nodding as though his progress was exactly as she'd expected it to be as her fingers stroked soothingly along the planes of his back.

Gunn craned his head in an attempt to see his back, but finally gave up. He'd look later, in the bathroom mirror, but right now he was too comfortable to move. Despite the fact that he wasn't quite healed completely yet, one part of his body was definitely feeling no pain. He stifled a moan in the pillow and tried to ignore the erection that strained between his belly and the mattress now that he was fully aware of his surroundings.

"Itches like crazy," he finally said.

Illyria light strokes turned to gentle scratches with the tips of her nails along his upper back, carefully working around the welts and scabbing cuts.

"Better?" she asked.

"Harder," he replied. "And lower."

The pressure increased on his shoulders and a second hand appeared on his lower back. His breath hitched in, then released slowly, even as let the tension seep slowly out of his muscles. It felt too damn good to worry about any other issues, gender or otherwise. Besides, he trusted both of them now, and that trumped pretty much anything else at the moment. He buried his head in the pillow and sighed with pleasure while the hands worked over every inch of his back, minimizing the tingling itch that had to be a by-product of the accelerated healing.

"What do you guys think I should do?" he asked, his words muffled somewhat by the pillow.

The hands slowed for a moment, then resumed their pace.

"What do you want to do, Charles?" Wesley asked cautiously.

"I don't know." A moment of silence passed. "I don't want to leave here, though," he finally added.

"No, that is not acceptable," Illyria stated calmly. "You must stay with us."

"I don't exactly have a lot of options, Blue," he reminded her.

"You can leave or you can stay. Leaving is not an option, therefore you must stay," she said, as though the answer was as simple and obvious as that.

Gunn turned and pulled himself up until he sat leaning against the headboard. He tugged the blanket up, letting it pool about his lap to camouflage his straining erection.

"Didn't you hear the man? If I stay, I'll be given to Thomas for twenty-four hours. I'll have to do whatever he wants."

The other two rearranged themselves until they sat beside him before answering.

"Angel will not allow him to harm you," Illyria finally replied.

Gunn snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Illyria, I believe Charles' concern involves the sexual aspect of that service," Wesley said softly. "Isn't that right, Charles?"

"Of course it is!" Gunn exploded, rolling his eyes again.

"Charles is concerned because he does not enjoy intercourse with other males?"

"Enjoy? Blue, have you been listening? I don't have intercourse with other males!" Gunn clarified.

"If you have not had intercourse with another male before, how do you know you would not enjoy it?" she asked reasonably.

"Because I like girls, Blue," he said loudly and slowly, as though speaking to a child.

Illyria tilted her head and considered his words. "A preference for the female of the species does not necessarily preclude enjoyment of males as well."

"That may be true for gods like yourself, but it ain't for us mere mortals. Right, Wes?"

Wesley coughed.

Gunn turned to stare at him with narrowed eyes.

"I'm sorry, Charles," Wesley finally said, his own eyes downcast. "But I'm afraid I agree with Illyria in this instance."

"But... You said your experience was just in boarding school. You said, and I quote, 'It was a commonly accepted form of experimentation for children in that environment,' Gunn said in an awful attempt at mimicking Wesley's English accent.

"I did say that, and I meant it. I didn't say I never enjoyed it, however," Wesley said softly, still staring down at his fingers where he plucked at the blanket covering them.

"But you haven't done it since then?"

Wesley shook his head.

"Why not, if it was so enjoyable?" Gunn asked sarcastically.

It was Wesley's turn to roll his eyes now. "Really, Charles, you of all people should know that my sex life is almost non-existent. I'm not exactly the kind of man that women – or men, for that matter – chase after. And living the life we lead..." Finally he simply shrugged. "I've never been much for one-night stands, even if there were partners lined up waiting," he finished quietly.

Illyria inspected him with her signature head tilt. "This shell finds you physically attractive," she finally replied, as though dismissing everything he'd just said out of hand.

"Yes, well, you and Lilah are not exactly a glowing testimonial for the rest of the dating world, Illyria."

"Who is Lilah?" she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"No one. She's... She's dead. Just take my word for it that most of my very few adult relationships have been abnormal, to say the least," he snorted. "In fact this one, as a pet to two ancient vampires, is actually about the least dysfunctional one of all. And frankly," he said to no one in particular. "I wouldn't much care if it were. This one suits me, for some strange reason. There's friendship and adventure, and despite all demon evidence to the contrary, it makes me feel safe and secure. And really, how many of us get all of those things in our lives?" he asked belligerently. "I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, Charles, but I like having you two together in this with me. I like this," he said, gesturing to the bed and the three of them in it. "If that makes me a sexual deviant, then I guess I'm a sexual deviant."

"I do not know what a sexual deviant is, but I like it as well," Illyria said, reaching over to cup Wesley by the back of the neck. She leaned in as she drew him forward and they kissed, just inches from Gunn's face while he watched with fascination.

When the kiss finally ended, Wesley leaned back in his original place, but Illyria didn't retreat. Instead she turned and pressed her kiss-warmed lips against Gunn's. One hand came up to cup his neck, as she had with Wesley, and the other slid down his belly and beneath the covers to grasp his throbbing erection. Gunn gasped, but he didn't stop her as she began to stroke his rock-hard shaft, stroking her fingers over the tip to gather drops of precum, and spreading it along the shaft as she moved down again.

"Blue," he murmured into her mouth.

Suddenly the hand was removed and he gasped again, this time in dismay. He wasn't left bereft for long though. She tugged the blanket away and before he could grab it back swung her leg over his lap and deftly seated herself upon his hard flesh, easing down in one smooth, slow stroke to take him all the way in. When she pressed down firmly, he groaned as his balls compressed beneath her, and the beaded rings at the apex of her flesh tickled the base of his cock. She squeezed her muscles and he groaned at the strength closing about his turgid erection. She did it again and that was all it took. With no further stimulation he shuddered and came deep within her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her tightly to him as he cried out his release. She kept him deep inside, twisted her hips upon him once, then climaxed as well with a low moan. The strong convulsions of her channel wrung him dry and he jerked up hard against her, then fell back, almost insensate from the strength of his orgasm.

"God, that's good, Blue" he murmured

This time is was Gunn that stroked soothingly along Illyria's back. He glanced down and saw Wesley's hand stroking the smooth crown of her head, down to the nape of her neck, and remembered the feel of that hand upon him in much the same way yesterday, following their training session, just before Thomas had arrived. It had felt good to him then. He hadn't stopped to think it was abnormal or dysfunctional or deviant. It had been a calming, soothing touch, and that was all that mattered then. It was all that mattered now, too, he realized with surprise. He dropped a kiss on Illyria's forehead and leaned back with a sigh. How could he leave this? Leave them? And how could he leave Angel and Spike? He shared a mission with them, but more than that, they were his friends. They were his family.

"I don't want to leave," he said, his eyes still closed.

"Then don't," Wesley said quietly.

"Thomas is a vampire," Gunn finally said slowly. "Hard enough to think of preparing for this with a human, but with a vampire..."

"Complete the claiming ritual," Illyria said, still tucked beneath his chin. "Angel and Spike will take care of everything. And then you will have superior status as well, like me," she added.

"Hmmm..."

Wesley turned to watch his friend and saw a new expression of interest on his face. Increased status – that had caught his attention, he thought, carefully keeping his grin hidden.

"And what about you, Wes? You'd be happy being subordinate to me and Blue?"

Wesley met his gaze with one of consideration.

"I'll make a deal with you, Charles. You stay and we'll complete the claiming ritual and training together, if Angel will allow it. That way we'll both gain status while you prepare to fulfill your obligation to Thomas and the House of Jardin. Deal?" he said, holding out his hand.

Gunn stared at him for a long time, then, with Illyria still seated in his lap, reached around her and stuck his hand out. "Deal," he agreed.