CHAPTER 18

Xander still looked dazed as Spike pushed him down to the airbed, and Spike grinned – still buzzing on the euphoria of the bite, with the blood of two master vampires running through his system, Xander was enjoying a high few mortals ever experienced. Spike pulled Xander’s head back and kissed him hard, deeply, laving away the smears of blood around his lips, plumbing his mouth for the mingled taste of Angel’s blood and his own. The combination, overlaid by the flavor of his Consort – YES!!! MY CONSORT!! – was intoxicating.

It was a few seconds before Xander regained enough sense to participate in the kiss; then his lips answered hungrily, and hot hands clutched frantically, almost desperately, at Spike, pulling at his shirt, fumbling unproductively at his jeans.

“Shhh, easy, Pet,” Spike chuckled. “No need to get impatient.” He stripped off his shirt.

Xander was still pulling at the buttons of his jeans, his hands shaking too hard to do any good.

“Want you,” he insisted. The raw need in those warm chocolate eyes made Spike’s hands shake more than a little, too, as he brushed Xander’s fingers away and stripped off his jeans as fast as he could, sending Xander’s jeans flying across the room after them. Spike wasn’t particularly surprised to find that Xander wasn’t wearing any boxers, considering that the whelp had apparently been prepared to be ravished right there at the construction site.

And speaking of prepared –

“Got any of the slick stuff?” Spike murmured, stripping off Xander’s socks and sending them after his jeans.

“Ummm – you just threw it across the room in my jeans pocket,” Xander said sheepishly. He licked his lips. “Are you gonna – “

“Ohhhhh, yeah,” Spike said firmly, getting up just long enough to snag the discarded jeans, rummage through the pockets, and return with his prize – the small bottle of lube. “Tonight you’re mine, Pet. Every way.” It wasn’t a question; right now Spike honestly didn’t know what he’d do if his Consort refused.

Judging from the dilation of Xander’s pupils, the flush on his skin, and the rapid pounding of his heart, refusal was the last thing on his mind.

“All yours,” Xander agreed hoarsely. “It’s about time.”

“Damn right,” Spike muttered. He yanked Xander’s legs apart and pushed his knees up almost roughly, squeezed some of the syrupy lubricant onto his fingers, and went straight for the gold. Xander yelped in startlement as Spike’s finger slid into him with no preliminaries whatsoever, but he wasn’t protesting and he didn’t tense up, and for Spike that was good enough. He knew he was moving too fast but couldn’t manage to stop himself; he tried to make up for haste with lube, getting the stuff damned near everywhere in his rush.

Two fingers went in with ease as Xander was practically sopping with lube and thankfully not tensing up at all, because Spike knew he was so far gone that any sign of resistance on Xander’s part might very well have banished what little self-control Spike had left.

Three fingers, and that was more of a stretch. Xander winced slightly but made no protest, and when Spike glanced up, the trust in those eyes was enough to beat some measure of sanity back into Spike. It wasn’t an idealistic, innocent trust – I know you could never hurt me – but a sort of resigned, world-weary trust – I know you won’t hurt me worse than I can bear. And that was enough to almost break Spike’s unbeating heart, enough to take some of the edge off his urgency.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can, Pet,” Spike whispered, knowing he was in game face right now, still as always astonished that this never seemed to frighten his Consort.

“I know,” Xander whispered back with that awful too-adult trust, one hand coming up to trace gently the ridges of Spike’s game face. “Don’t worry, I can stand it if you – “

And that, apparently, was just the right thing to say to flip raw need over into indignant pride.

“Stand it?” Spike growled, twisting his fingers around to find Xander’s prostate and working it firmly; Xander cried out and arched upwards, shoving himself down on Spike’s impaling fingers. “Stand it?” Spike shoved his fingers deep one last time, satisfied at the ease with which they moved. He withdrew his fingers, drizzled a bit more lube over his erection, and slid into his Consort as smoothly and easily as a hot knife cut through butter.

“Stand it?” Spike said again, gazing down into Xander’s wide, stunned eyes. “Not by half, Pet.” He thrust slowly into the tight, hot depths, angling to rub firmly over Xander’s prostate. “With me you don’t stand it.” He thrust again, earning a deep moan. Xander was trembling all over, his mouth open in a silent Oh! of wonder. “With me you moan for it. With me you beg for it.” Thrusting harder now that he knew Xander could take it, that Xander wanted it. Xander was clutching frantically at his shoulders, breath coming in harsh little gasps in time with the thrusts, his whole body shaking, hard cock rubbing precome over Spike’s belly. Spike could already feel Xander’s balls drawing up, but then he hadn’t expected this to be a long one – they’d both worked themselves up too much for it.

Spike clasped his hands behind Xander’s back and suddenly, without warning, flipped Xander upright with vampiric strength. Xander cried out in amazed pleasure as the new position drove him down on Spike’s erection. Almost – almost –

“With me,” Spike murmured against the sweaty skin of Xander’s throat, “you bloody fucking scream for it.”

And bit.

Xander did scream then, a raw helpless overloaded scream of pleasurable pain and painfully intense pleasure, and the hot liquid spurted out of him at cock and throat, and the taste of Xander’s pleasure-rich blood and the excruciating molten contractions of his body in climax pulled Spike over the edge with him. No temptation whatsoever to drink too deep – his bond with Xander was so complete, the satisfaction Xander gave him so overwhelmingly intense that a little was all Spike could bear, and he barely managed the last few hard thrusts deep into the tight heat enclosing him as a sharp ecstatic spear of unexpected pain transfixed him and he came, howling against Xander’s skin.

He managed to get one arm free in time to catch them as they fell over, and they flopped back on the air mattress, Spike not breathing, Xander breathing hard enough for both of them. Spike felt a vague pleasant echo of the sensation that had pushed him over into climax, and he reached up and touched his shoulder, his eyebrows shooting up as he felt the moisture and fading soreness. He glanced at his red-tipped fingers, then looked over at Xander. There was a suspicious hint of red on his lips.

Spike gaped.

“You bit me!” he said.

Xander panted some more, but his eyes were twinkling. The bite on Xander’s throat was already almost gone, thanks to the fair amount of vampire blood running through his veins at the moment.

“Turnabout’s fair play,” he gasped.

“But – you bit me!” Spike repeated blankly. He grinned. “Sodding hell, whelp, you bit me!”

“Am I hearing protestage?” Xander said, a little anxiously.

“Fuck, no!” Spike rolled over on his side, propping himself up on an elbow and grinning down at Xander. “Will you do it again next time?”

“Unless one of us is pointed the wrong way,” Xander grinned back.  “C’mere. I want cuddles.”

Spike sighed exaggeratedly.

“Vampires don’t cuddle,” he grumbled, cuddling.

“Okay, I want to share skin surface,” Xander said patiently. He yawned.

“Oh, well, I can do that,” Spike said, mollified. He snagged the blanket, pulled it over them. “Catch a nap, Pet. Got a feeling that when the British git turns up a clue, won’t be much sleepy time for a while.”

Spike dozed for a while, wrapped cozily around his Consort, but he was neither as short on sleep nor as easily physically exhausted as his mortal. Satisfied that Xander was sleeping soundly, Spike slipped out of bed and out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Angel was sitting at the table, making notes as he paged through a thick book.

“Find anything?” Spike asked, wandering over.

“Mm-hmm.” Angel glanced up and raised his eyebrows. “You’re a mess. You’re also naked.”

Spike smirked.

“Comes with the whole sex package, Peaches,” he chuckled. “Or has it been so long you’ve forgotten?”

Angel gave him a sharp look and Spike shrugged apologetically, backing off. Ordinarily he’d enjoy needling his Sire, but he was trying to mend fences with Angel, after all, and the older vampire had been rather nice about the whole marking thing. Even if he was being a bloody stiff about everything else.

“Go take a shower, Will,” Angel said mildly. “Frankly I don’t want to sit around here smelling sex and blood, if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry,” Spike said softly, meaning it now. Come to think of it, Angel’s curse wasn’t so very different than his chip. Worse, even. Spike could work around the chip. Wasn’t much Angel could do with the curse in the way of loopholes. Pity, too. He wished Angel and Buffy could get together. They’d probably both be a lot easier to put up with if they got their end down now and again.

Spike drew himself a bath and settled in with a sigh of contentment. Full tummy, new Consort, warm bath and that lovely melting just-shagged feeling. Life – or undeath, rather – just didn’t get much better.

When he emerged from the bath, he cheerfully borrowed Angel’s bathrobe and returned to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and sitting down at the table.

“So what’ve you got?”

“Wesley called me back with the reference I needed.” Angel flipped back a few pages. “The Tooth of Ryla isn’t a tooth, in fact. It’s a magical ceremonial short spear carved from bone and tipped with adrantium alloy from the nether planes. Supposedly it can kill any creature of either plane – “

“Vampires?” Spike said, scowling.

“I don’t know, Will,” Angel said patiently. “It said ‘kill’, so your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, supposedly it can only be wielded by a human pure of soul.”

“So did this Andreas the Black qualify?” Spike asked interestedly.

“Apparently not,” Angel said. “He took the Tooth in battle, but when he attempted to use it, the record says he fell victim to the Tooth’s curse and died horribly.”

“What kind of curse?” Spike asked impatiently. “Died horribly how?”

“Will, I’m telling you what I’ve found,” Angel said, not so patiently this time. “Do you want to know, or do you want to look it up yourself?”

Spike shrugged.

“Sorry,” he said, getting up to fetch another beer. “Died horribly. So what then?”

“Andreas’ daughter Padma took up the Tooth and used it to fight off an arch-demon,” Angel told him. “Apparently she met the ‘pure soul’ qualification. Later, however, she was killed and the Tooth taken by an evil sorcerer, Dorissant. And that’s the last reference I’ve found to the Tooth of Ryla.”

Spike turned around slowly.

“Did you say Dorissant?”

“Yes.” Angel looked up at Spike. “You’ve heard of him?”

Spike sighed.

“You could say that,” he said. “I was in his bloody crypt.”

Angel’s eyebrows shot up.

“You were?”

“Remember the Gem of Amara?” Spike said.

Angel’s lips thinned.

“I’m not likely to forget it,” he said shortly.

“Right.” Spike shrugged. “Well, I got it out of his crypt. It’s under Sunnydale – surprise, surprise. Another smart bloke who wanted to tap into the power of the Hellmouth.”

“What else was in there?” Angel asked, frowning.

“Oh, bunch of junk,” Spike said, an idea forming in his mind. “I sealed it up again after I got what I wanted. I could find it again, I suppose.”

Angel got up and reached for the phone.

“I’ll call Giles,” he said. “You can tell them where to look, and – “

“No!” Spike said sharply.

Angel stopped.

“What?”

“I’ll get it myself,” Spike said flatly. “Don’t want them in on it yet. To get there, they’ve got to go through several passages I’d just as soon keep a secret, if you don’t mind. Let them work on this Ravyadha git, find out what they can about him and where he might be – you can call and give them all that information if you want. Last I heard, the witches had an idea for tracking nasties back to the portals. Let them take care of that end of it and I’ll work on this Tooth. The weapon won’t do no good without a bad guy to use it on.”

Angel looked over at Spike sadly.

“Spike, if Xander’s the one chosen to do this, you can’t protect him from it,” he said gently.

“D’you think I don’t know that?” Spike snapped, then sighed. He wasn’t surprised to find out that Angel knew what he was thinking. The pouf had probably felt the same way, knowing that Buffy was going out and risking her life every night.

“I know that,” Spike repeated, keeping a firm grip on his voice. “But if I can see to it that he survives it, all right, then I will.”

“I know.” Angel gave Spike the barest hint of a smile. “I’ve always admired that in you. You’re so damned loyal. Even at the worst of what I did to you, you never even tried to betray me. Even as Angelus, that always shocked the hell out of me.”

Spike glanced away, clenching his jaws.  He had a good memory. He could still feel the slice of Angelus’ whips on his back. “Such a loyal little puppy. I can beat you, and fuck you, and make you lick the mud off my boot, and you’ll still come crawling back for more, won’t you? Come here, doggy. Crawl for it. Beg for it.” He hated those memories, hated how angry and humiliated and aroused they made him feel all over again.

“Will.” Spike glanced down to see Angel’s fingers covering the back of his hand. He looked up into dark sad eyes. “You know how sorry I am about – “

“Bloody hell, don’t say it,” Spike exploded, shaking his head and yanking his hand out from under Angel’s. “You just don’t understand, do you? Nothing to forgive. You were – you’re my Sire. I was your Childe. You did what you wanted with me. That’s the way it worked. When I got fed up enough with it and powerful enough to do something about it, I took off on me own with Dru, and that’s the way that works. I could deal with that a lot better than this poncy broody bit you do now. If I held it against you, you think you’d be alive now? Fuck, no. I’d’ve stuck a stake through you instead of a few pokers.”

Angel frowned, but his eyes were twinkling.

“So you’re telling me that you tortured me instead of killing me because you were still loyal to me?” Angel said slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Spike snorted.

“Not by half, Peaches,” he said. “I tortured you because you had something I wanted, and ‘cause it felt bloody good to give you a taste of your own – well, Angelus’ medicine, we’ll say. And ‘cause I was bloody angry that you weren’t even my Sire anymore, seemed like. But I never meant it to be permanent, any more than you meant to kill me back in the old days.” He shrugged. “And I’m not apologizing for it, either, if that’s what you’re waiting for. I’d do it again if it would get me the Gem of Amara, so I could take Xander for picnics on the beach.” He sighed. “’Course, Xander wouldn’t let me do it anyway, so it’s all kind of pointless, hmmm?”

Angel smiled.

“You know what the difference is, Will? This time I’d give it to you.” He raised an eyebrow at Spike’s astonishment. “Why so surprised? You promised Xander. I can tell you mean to keep that promise. You’re no more of a danger to the world in the daylight than you’d be at night.”

Spike sat back, shaking his head, grinning reluctantly.

“You know, Peaches, you still do have the oddest way of looking at things.”

“Speaking of looking,” Angel said, indicating with a tilt of his head.

Spike looked, and chuckled. Xander had just emerged from their room, rumpled, more asleep than awake – and naked. The mortal shambled across the floor in the general direction of the bathroom.

“Hi, Spike. Hi, Angel,” Xander mumbled.

Then he froze, and Spike could see the realization hit him. Spike grinned. He had no idea the whelp could blush so . . . extensively. Hurriedly Xander grabbed the first thing he could use as a covering – one of the shields Angel had hung up on the brick pillar.

“Uh – hi, Spike,” Xander quavered. “Hi, uh, Angel.”

“Morning, Pet,” Spike said cheerfully. “Go take a shower, why don’t you?”

“Um, yeah,” Xander stammered desperately. “Shower is good. Shower is good – “ He started to turn, then reconsidered. He sidled sideways like a crab into the bathroom. A moment later his hand emerged, depositing the shield against the wall. Then the door closed again.

Spike chuckled; to his amusement, Angel was smiling also.

“Spike, may I ask just one question?” Angel said, sitting back in his chair. “I admit, the curiosity has been killing me. How the hell did you manage to feed on him when the chip wouldn’t let you bite him?”

Spike gazed at Angel consideringly. Poor blighter – he had even less likelihood of getting his end down than Spike had had with the bloody chip. Spike didn’t doubt that Angel could shag somebody if he wanted, as long as it wasn’t “true happiness.” He also had no doubt that Angel would never take the chance. Under other circumstances Spike might’ve offered him at least a blowjob for old times’ sake. As things stood, though, Spike was about as likely to offer as Angel was to accept – in other words, not at all.

Well, at least I could give him the material for a good wank, Spike thought smugly.

“Cut ‘imself for me,” Spike said, licking his lips. “Bought this knife – you should see it, fuckin’ beautiful, black handle, nice sharp blade. Cut all the buttons off his shirt, one by one, just teasing me with it, letting me smell the arousal pouring off ‘im.”

Angel said nothing, but his eyes had darkened and his nostrils were flared. Spike fought down a snicker.

“Cut ‘is own boxers off, too,” Spike continued. “Then when ‘e was naked, run that sharp blade all over his skin, over his lips, down over his body, making little cuts here and there, all the places I wanted to taste the most. An’ then I went over there an’ licked it off, drop by drop, all that hot, sweet, horny teenage blood. An’ then we shagged like weasels, of course.”

He smirked in satisfaction. Angel was frozen as if he’d turned to stone, his eyes gleaming gold, his features half shifted to his game face, his hands clutching white-knuckled at the arms of his chair.

Spike stood, stretching luxuriantly.

“So – that answer your question, Peaches?” he said lightly over his shoulder.

“W-where are you going?” Angel asked, his voice unsteady.

Spike hesitated at the bathroom door, as if considering.

“Think I fancy a shower,” he said innocently.

“You just had a shower,” Angel said hoarsely.

Spike grinned.

“So I did,” he said saucily, closing the bathroom door behind him. He figured that the least he could do at a time like this was give the Broody One a spot of privacy, ‘cause he knew that zipper would be coming down in under thirty seconds.

Of course, the fact that he was now in the bathroom three feet away from a wet, soapy, slippery Xander had nothing to do with it. Just an added bonus, say.

He was naked and in the shower in under ten seconds. Xander, who had his head under the shower spray, yelped when Spike’s cool hand grabbed his ass.

“Spike!” Xander glowered at Spike, but the glower lost some of its effect due to the pretty damned respectable hardon the boy was sporting. Regular railspike, that one.

And Spike had always been good with spikes.

“Morning, Pet,” Spike purred, pulling Xander against him and kissing the breath out of him. It worked. When he pulled back, the lust-glazed expression had pretty much replaced the outrage.

“Morning,” Xander gasped unsteadily. Water was running down in his eyes, but he didn’t appear to care too much.

“Feel all right?” Spike said, indulging in another grope of Xander’s arse. He could see where he’d marked Xander – not a proper scar, just a discoloration. But any vampire would recognize it. Hopefully Buffy and the others wouldn’t.

“Yeah.” Xander blushed. “I thought I’d be, you know, sore or something. But I’m not. At all. Anywhere.”

Spike smirked.

“Pet, you had a bellyfull of vampire blood,” he said. “Good thing for your first time, probably. Long drive back to Sunnydale if your arse is too sore to sit.”

“Back – “ Xander apparently fought his way back from arousal enough to work out the implications of Spike’s statement. “We’re going back? Angel found what we need?”

“Yup. Good thing the ponce is good for something these days,” Spike chuckled. “We know who, we know what and how; now all we need is where. So Angel’s gonna fill Giles in about what we’re up against, and come sunset, you and I are gonna have a look for this Tooth of Ryla.”

“You know where it is?” Xander said hopefully.

Spike shook his head.

“I know where it might be,” he corrected. “If it’s not there, then maybe there’ll be a clue as to where to look next.” He grimaced; this conversation wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he stepped into the shower. “Look, Pet, is this really what you want to be doing right now? Talking about demon fighting?”

“Uh – “ Xander began, then gulped when Spike’s hand firmly grasped his suddenly renewed erection. “No?”

“Damn right.” Spike grabbed the soap and proceeded to turn Xander’s body into warm, slippery playground.

Hot water, hot slippery flesh – Spike was in heaven. Xander turned, threw his arms around Spike and pulled him in close, grabbing two handfuls of Spike’s ass and licking up and down the length of his throat. Spike moaned, his erection throbbing against Xander’s soapy belly. Then Xander bit down hard on the side of Spike’s throat, just there under his ear, and that was it – Spike howled and came, too surprised by the sudden attack to even attempt to slow things down and make them a little more reciprocal.

Xander held Spike close until the vampire got his legs back under him, so to speak. Spike chuckled ruefully, nuzzling the wet neck, overjoyed when Xander didn’t flinch.

“You’re bloody wicked, Pet,” he murmured against Xander’s ear.

“Yeah, well, how virtuous can a guy be if he takes up with a vampire?” Xander chuckled back. “Besides, I like getting you out of control. It’s fun.”

“Oh, yeah?” Spike pulled back, grinning mischievously. “Fun for me too, Pet.”

“Uh-oh,” Xander said, looking not at all scared. “Looks like I’m in for it.”

“Could be,” Spike chuckled. He took Xander’s hands, guiding them up to the showerhead. “Hold on there. No letting go, hear me?”

“Or what?” Xander joked, his eyes sparkling with arousal. “You’ll break out the handcuffs?”

Spike smirked.

“In time, Pet,” he said simply, watching the heat flare in Xander’s eyes. Ooooh, got a kink, eh, Pet? Going to have fun with that one! “In time.”

Before Xander could respond, Spike dropped to his knees in the shower, and whatever reply Xander might have made was dropped in favor of a low moan of arousal. The shower had washed most of the soap away, but a little of Spike’s semen remained, and Spike fastidiously licked Xander’s belly clean to the music of Xander’s whimpers. The whimpers turned into a hoarse scream as Spike lowered his head and abruptly took Xander’s cock into his mouth, sucking it deep.

Xander’s body shook violently, and Spike would have smiled if he hadn’t had his mouth full. He was about to show his Consort one of the advantages of having an undead lover who didn’t have to breathe. He slid one hand back behind Xander, exploring down the wet crease of his buttocks, finding that hot little pucker with his fingertip. Xander moaned piteously, trying to simultaneously shove forward into Spike’s mouth and back against that teasing finger.

Well, he was about to get the best of both worlds.

Without warning, Spike swallowed Xander’s cock – all the way to the root – at the same time as he pushed one finger, slowly and carefully but not particularly gently, into Xander’s ass.

Xander yelped and froze, trembling violently. Spike knew the un-lubed finger had to sting a bit, but he’d been careful, and the erection in his mouth hadn’t faltered in the slightest. Using the fingers of his free hand, he cupped Xander’s balls, tugging lightly at them, and worked his throat muscles around the stiff erection, even as his fingertip found and firmly massaged Xander’s prostate.

“Sp-sp-Spike – “ Xander gasped, shuddering under the sensual assault. “Umm – gonna – gonna – “

Come? Not by half, Spike thought, and he would have chuckled had not his mouth – and throat – been full. When Xander’s balls started to draw up preparatory to giving up their load, Spike tugged down – not hard enough to hurt much, but enough that the discomfort pulled Xander back from the edge just a bit.

And, just for good measure, he worked another finger into his Consort’s ass.

Xander was whimpering nonstop now, jittering back and forth between the fingers massaging his prostate and the deep suction of Spike’s mouth and throat – with another tug to his balls every time he got too close to coming. Spike kept it up until he could hear desperation in Xander’s moans; then he released Xander’s balls, rubbed his prostate hard, and swallowed.

Xander shrieked, “SPIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!” at the top of his lungs, tensed every muscle in his body (nearly squeezing Spike’s fingers off at the knuckle), shot what felt like a gallon of semen down Spike’s throat, and abruptly passed out.

Only quick reflexes and a certain amount of forethought saved Spike from a broken neck that would have put a hell of a crimp in the next few days’ love life. He released Xander’s waning cock just in time and caught the mortal as he collapsed.

There wasn’t much to clean up – Spike had done a pretty damned good job in the tongue-bath department, if he did say so himself – so Spike turned off the shower and carried his Consort out, grabbing Angel’s robe as he passed and more or less draping Xander with it. Couldn’t have his mortal Consort catching a cold or something, after all. He grabbed a towel, too, but after that his hands were full and opening the bathroom door was a bit tricky. As he walked through the apartment, he saw Angel sitting on the couch, looking dazed and suspiciously rumpled. Spike sniffed the air and grinned broadly.

“Enjoy the soundtrack, Peaches?” Spike chuckled as he walked past. Angel mumbled something, not meeting Spike’s eyes, and Spike nobly resisted the urge to taunt the older vampire further. After all, his own nothing-but-a-wank days weren’t all that far behind him.

Xander was stirring by the time Spike laid him gently down on the air mattress, kicking the bedding out of the way – he didn’t care if it got wet, but unlike Spike and Xander, the sheets needed a wash – and he opened his eyes as Spike gently toweled him dry.

“Spike?” Xander croaked weakly.

“Got it in one, Pet,” Spike grinned.

“Ummmm . . . why’s my throat hurt?” he rasped.

“Probably ‘cause you screamed yourself hoarse,” Spike chuckled. He patted himself more or less dry with the towel and flopped down beside the damp warmth of his Consort.

“Ummmm . . . and why’s my ass sore?” Xander asked.

Spike chuckled.

“Got to work on that memory problem, Pet,” he said. He waggled the offending fingers in front of Xander’s face, his grin widening at Xander’s sudden blush. “Figured I’d give you a little something to remember it by this time.”

“Gee, thanks,” Xander rasped wryly.

“Don’t mention it,” Spike grinned. “Now if you’ve quite finished your impromptu nap, Pet, I’d suggest you get up and put some clothes on, and if you want, you can doze all the way back to Sunnydale.”

“We’re going back? Now?” Xander repeated, more alert.

“Sun’s just down,” Spike told him. “Much as I’d like to continue our holiday, if we’re gonna get into this thing, best get to it.”

Xander sat up and reached for his clothes.

“And when we get back to Sunnydale?” he asked. “What then?”

Spike grinned.

“Why, Pet, I’m gonna take you somewhere where we can pick out rings.”

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