Suki Blue Fiction

From Out Of Nowhere Series

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Xander stared down at the bottle he cradled between his grazed hands.  He started a train of deep thought and fiddled with the label.

It seemed that LA was just as demon infested as Sunnydale.  Not that he was particularly bothered.  Life wouldn’t be the same without a small amount of threat to his life.

Tonight’s mini-adventure had been a nest of Crow-hog demons that were camped out in an empty office block.  The four of them -- him, Spike, Doyle and Angel -- had stormed the building and had neatly done away with about twenty of the scumbag demons.  And scum they certainly were.  Xander had learned a while back that demon didn’t necessarily mean evil.  These particular nasties had not fitted into that category.  Let’s just say that they had a penchant for sex, fire and prostitutes and we’ll just leave it at that.

The attack had gone exactly according to plan.  The demons had been slain and the women had been freed.  It was disturbing.  Things didn’t normally go that smoothly, at least they didn’t back in Sunnydale.

There were a few other things that had started to disturb Xander over the two months that he and Spike had been living in the big city.

Doyle.  Xander was starting to get the impression that the young Irish man was more than just…young and Irish.  He had visions, mind-blowing, cranial bursting visions.  Doyle had explained that his ability to see these urgent messages of doom had been a power bestowed by the powers that be.  Xander wasn’t sure who the powers that be were, exactly, but then again, ignorance was sometimes bliss.

Another concern was Angel.  The tall and not-so-happy one was particularly not-so-happy and Xander could not help but worry.  Angel was always one for moody looks and extended silences but since arriving back in LA Angel had more or less cut himself off, shutting himself away with Doyle and only showing his face when business called for it.  Maybe he and Doyle were spending lots of time getting down and dirty.  Who knew?  But something was definitely up, Xander was sure of that.  A lot had gone down in the week before leaving for LA -- Angelus, The Initiative, Angel’s loss of control.  Knowing Angel, it would play on his mind for at least a century or two.

And then there was this weird ‘power’ that Isis had bestowed.  What the hell was that? There had not been a peep from it since the night that the Initiative had attacked and Xander had even taken to trying to persuade Isis, in her snake form, to give him some hints.  Angel had arranged a meeting with a contact of his, someone that owed him a favour.  It seemed that this contact had dealings with telekinesis and other powers of the mind.  The appointment was in a couple of days, so Xander had until then to freak out about it.  He hadn’t yet, but the mind and temperament of Xander Harris was a funny thing. It could go at any given moment.

“Too much thinking damages the brain cells, luv,” Spike informed, sliding into the booth and depositing two drinks.

“Really? Got the facts to back that up?”

“Just take a look in the mirror.”

“Bastard.”

“And proud of it.  Go on, then.  Spit it out. What’s bouncing around that fat head of yours?”

“Just stuff.”

“What stuff? The price of lube due to inflation? I guess we could start using margarine and blood.”

“Mmm, yum,” Xander said with a smirk. “No, just stuff.  Angel and Doyle.  The Initiative…”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t think about it now.  It’s over.  Any more problems and we’ll deal.”

“But…”

“No buts…except mine, of course.”

“I can’t help but think.  It’s a disease.”

“’Telling me.  Reckon you caught it off Angel.”

Xander shook his head. “Nah.  I’ve been doing it since birth.  I think my first thought was how cold the outside was and where’s my placenta?”

Spike laughed, glugged a mouthful of beer and stood. “C’mon, luv. Let's go grind.”

Xander accepted the outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled onto the dance floor. “Be gentle with me.  I’m beat.”

Spike grinned and held his lover, pressing their bodies together and swaying slowly to something that sounded suspiciously poncy. “Gonna have to get you a thinking box, pet.”

Xander frowned with confusion and unconsciously pressed closer. “Huh?”

“You know, like a swear-box.  Say a bad word and you have to stick a quid in it.  I’ll make you a thinking box so every time your brain goes into overdrive you’ll have to pay up.”

Xander smiled and rubbed his cheek against Spike’s. “Could be quite the earner.  We could use it to save up for something.”

“The idea is that you won’t have to put money in it ‘cos you won’t be doing any thinking.”

Spike lowered one hand and squeezed a ripe buttock.

“I’ll have to get you a groping box,” Xander gasped.

Spike lowered another hand and squeezed another buttock. “You don’t want me to grope you?” he teased.

Xander gasped again and tilted his head to suck gently on Spike’s neck. “Um, okay, how about a box that you have to put money in every time you don’t grope, ravish or fuck me?”

“Sounds cheap.  Wanna go home and try it out?”

Xander released his lover’s neck and pulled back. “Get our coats,” he demanded.

Spike grinned his most wicked grin and gladly obliged, leaving Xander to wander back to their table and quickly down the rest of his drink.

Okay, so no more thinking, negative thinking at least.  That could be done.  No probs.  How many times had he faced adversity with a smile? How many times had he calmed a situation with a well timed joke and a flash of smile? Xander Harris, the permanent optimist, was going to make a come back, big-time! Angel was not going to be pleased.  Xander smiled at the memory of a long-time-ago feud with the vampire that was now his family.

Spike returned with their coats and together they left at the speed of light, desperate to get back home and do the thing that they did so well.

**

‘Home’ was now a tiny basement apartment somewhere in LA.  They were near enough to Angel Investigations in case of an emergency, but far enough away that no-one would be dropping by to borrow sugar.

The apartment was small and a little cramped, but over the two months that they had lived in LA they had made it their own.  The mixture of Spike’s preference for black and sleek with Xander’s preference for colourful and plush meant that the apartment was a combination of leather and chrome with brightly coloured rugs, throws and pillows.  Loud prints seemed to be a recurring theme and the central focus of the apartment was a giant yellow and red Aztec rug that Spike had bought for Xander as a moving in present.

The layout of their new batcave consisted of the main room with a kitchen attached to the side, one bedroom and the tiniest bathroom known to man.  Still, they had a couch, a bed, a bath and a TV. What more could anyone ask for?

Spike tumbled into the apartment, half pulling Xander with him.  He stopped briefly to make sure that the door was locked  before following Xander’s lead and making a mad dash to the bedroom.  He stripped along the way, just to save time, and arrived in time to see Xander fling his last remaining piece of clothing across the room.  He took a moment to admire.  Xander had been working hard to get fit and improve his fighting skills.  Thanks to that and the magic of time itself, Xander’s body had begun to change.  He’d always been in decent shape and had always had the sort of body that Spike wanted to put on a stick and lick like a lollipop, but now that body was maturing and starting to fill out.

Xander approached slowly, reaching out and pulling Spike towards him and towards the bed.  He felt Spike smoothing his hands over his chest and he smiled in amusement that his slightly larger muscles were so fascinating to his lover.

As they fell back onto the bed, Xander flipped them so that Spike was underneath.  He stared down into wide blue eyes and without warning he struck at Spike’s neck and drank. 

Xander’s lust for Spike’s blood was a daily occurrence now.  He needed it as much as he needed his breakfast, except with a little less milk and not so much of the crunch.  For Xander it was like an urgent craving that scratched away at him until he could sate it by taking Spike’s blood into his body.  And where there was bloodlust, there was just plain old lust.  Wherever Xander’s craving went, the urge to fuck and be fucked was right there with it.

Not that anyone was complaining.  Except maybe the neighbours.

Spike squeezed tightly to Xander’s body before tugging him away to signal the end of the feeding.   He watched as Xander leant back and bared his neck to return the favour and Spike dived at him and reciprocated with a growl of enthusiasm.  As the scorching hot blood hit the back of his throat, Spike opened his legs and trapped Xander between them, making sure to put direct pressure exactly where it was needed.

Spike scrabbled under the pillow for the tube of lube and he nearly snorted blood out of his nose when his hand bumped into Xander’s.  Obviously, great minds think alike.  Lube. Fuck. Now.

The tube was located by Xander first and, as Spike released his neck, Xander adjusted his weight and leant down to prepare Spike with impatient fingers.  He coated his own cock quickly and rearranged Spike’s legs to give himself a better angle.  As he sank into the cool channel, his mind drifted, as it usually did, to thoughts of how he could never live without this, never live without Spike.  Giles had warned them some time ago that they were bound in a way that meant that they could not live without each other, that if one of them was to die the other would surely follow.  And now Xander could literally feel that.  If Spike was somehow ever dusted, Xander would follow him into death not long after.  And of course it worked the other way around.  Xander still had twinges of guilt that when grew old and died, Spike would join him.  Even though Spike constantly reassured him that it was the way he wanted it, Xander still couldn’t help but think that it was wrong, that Spike should live forever.

Spike arched up to meet each of Xander’s hard thrusts and he could feel the powerful emotions pouring from his lover’s heart.  He wrapped his legs tighter around Xander’s waist and bit again into the soft skin of Xander’s neck, connecting them together through cock and blood.

Xander almost felt like his brain was overloaded with thoughts and emotions.  The pull of his blood combined with the cock that he was frantically pumping into his lover was enough to make the bond thrum in powerful waves and reassure Xander that Spike was here, Spike was with him and Spike was going nowhere.

Xander felt and heard Spike begin to pant and he reached down to stroke him to a release that he himself needed now so desperately. 

Spike cried out as Xander’s hand fisted him and he held back his climax until he could feel Xander quiver with need above him.  He felt the bond tighten and strengthen and he was hit full in the face with everything his lover was feeling.  And he knew that Xander was experiencing the exact same thing, too. Worry.  Love.  Passion.  Possessiveness and protectiveness.  The bond threw the emotions between them, laying out their fears and their love for each other like cards on a table and it drew them together and connected them in a way that made them feel like they were suddenly one whole, perfectly content person.

Their lips connected and their tongues exploded into one another's mouth.  The bond slipped away into the background as their bodies tensed and, together, they came.

**

“Hey, guys.  What we miss? Anything good? Paint drying? A couple of wrong numbers?” Xander almost bounced around Angel’s desk before throwing himself in the chair behind it. “We would have been here earlier but, um, we weren’t.”

“We were shagging,” Spike helpfully informed.

“Euw, do you have to? I just ate.” Cordelia clutched at her stomach and screwed up her face. “I so don’t need any mental images right now.  It’s bad enough that I had to walk in on these two going at it on the desk.

Cordelia gestured to Doyle and Angel and Spike smirked. “Peaches.  Not like you, what with Princess here in the next room.”

Angel sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “We were not *going at it*.  It was just a kiss and we just happened to be standing near to the desk.  We were not *on* it.”

“Oh, whatever.  I saw definite gropage.”

Angel looked embarrassed and, for that matter, so did Doyle.  Neither of them were the types to flaunt what they had together, but it still surprised both Spike and Xander that they weren’t more affectionate in public.   But perhaps they were just judging by their own standards.  Certainly, neither of them had any qualms about showing their love and affection for each other.  Hand holding, cuddling and kissing were definitely things that came with Spike and Xander territory.

Xander changed the subject. “So, seriously, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Pizza and boredom,” Doyle advised as he sat on the edge of the desk and flicked pointlessly through a pile of random papers. “Or was it the other way around? Boredom and pizza? Angel?”

“I think I can live with either.”

Spike visibly sagged. “Bleedin’ hell.  Why do we bother? Nothing ever bloody happens.”

The phone rang and everybody stared at it.  A minute passed and nobody moved.  Shock had set in and it was going to take quite a manoeuvre to pull themselves out of it.

“Cordy,” Xander finally managed to call. “The phone’s ringing.”

The sound of an annoyed huff and a bottle of nail polish being slammed onto a table floated through the office. “God.  I have to do *everything* around here.  Hello, Angel Investigations.  We help the hopeless and I have to answer the phone *all* day.  Yes…I see.  Really? Uh-huh, uh-huh.  An emergency? Yes, I know it.  We’ll be there as soon as we can. Don’t worry.”

The phone clicked as Cordelia hung up.  Everybody waited.  They waited a bit longer.

“Cordelia?”

“What?!”

“Was that a job?” Angel called through the door.

“Are you deaf? Of course it was.”

Everybody waited a little longer.  It was really quite suspenseful.

“Well, are you going to tell us about it?”

The noise of another loud huff and a chair scraping across the floor resounded from the other room.

Cordelia appeared at the door and held out a piece of paper.  “Young family.  Nice district. Monster in the attic.”

“Monster?” Xander asked. “As in a demon?”

“I don’t know.  The guy just said monster.  He didn’t expand and I didn’t care. And don’t be long.  I have a date.”

Angel took the paper with the address and shrugged on his jacket.  He turned around to face the others, to say goodbye and to quickly warn Spike not to trash the office and for Xander not to put wet fingers in the electrical sockets again. “Now don’t…what are you doing?”

“We’re coming with,” Doyle said with a shrug.

“I don’t think this needs four of us.”

“And you think it needs three of us to stay here?” Spike pointed out.

He had a point.

Xander was already heading for the door. “And the monster might be a really big one with horns and tentacles and a big iron bar! You might need us.”

Angel sighed again and nodded reluctantly.  “Fine.  You can all come.  But two of you have to wait in the car. We can’t all go in.  We’ll probably scare them more than the demon.”

“Monster,” Xander corrected. “And I don’t mind waiting in the car.  The best stuff always happens to the guy in the car.”

“Best stuff? Like getting your throat cut and wotnot? Yeah.  Alright, then.  Can’t have that.  I’d better stay in car, too.”

Angel narrowed his eyes and began walking out of the office.  He really hoped that Spike wasn’t planning on doing what he thought he was planning on doing.  Spike and Xander alone in a car? It was just asking for trouble.

**

Spike leant against the car and lit up another cigarette.  It was a mild evening and he smiled slightly at the sight of the clear sky bursting with stars and the full moon shining almost within reaching distance.

“It looks big,” Xander noted, hopping up to sit on the bonnet of the car. “Is it always that big?”

Spike nodded.  “It just looks bigger ‘cos it’s so clear,” he said, glancing at his watch.  Naughty touching was *apparently* strictly off limits.  It was a residential area and they had a reputation to uphold.  Consequently, both Spike and Xander were a little bored. “How much bloody longer? They've been…” Spike checked his watch again. “…oh, only ten minutes.  Well, still, they wanna hurry the fuck up.”

“Do you think they’re okay?” Xander asked.

Spike was caught off guard by the sudden change in subject. “Eh?”

“Doyle and Angel.  They seem…”

“Tense?”

“Yeah.”

“Dunno, pet.  I reckon Angel’s still brooding over the Angelus thing.  That’s probably it.”

“I think it’s more than that, Spike.  Doyle hasn’t been right either.  Do you think they’re having problems?”

Spike stared back up at the moon and thought about it.  Maybe.  It was hard to tell.  But, yeah, now that he thought about it, Angel and Doyle often looked uncomfortable together.  What was that all about? And never once could Xander convince them to double date.  Although that was probably more out of fear of the twosome that was Spike and Xander rather than anything else.

“They might be,” Spike said, finally.

“Oh.  I was hoping that it was my overworked imagination.”

“Sorry, luv.”

“Should we try talking to them?”

Spike shook his head. “Nah. Let ‘em sort it themselves.  We don’t want to get in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  Maybe this is just what they need?”

“What?”

“A case.  Like this.  Something to work on together.  Things have been unexciting since we moved, apart from the Crow-hogs.  Not that I’m complaining, but maybe that’s just given them too much time to think about stuff.”

“Stuff like what?”

“You know, stuff like why Angelus dropped everything and came running to Sunnydale.”

“So?”

“*So*, he left Doyle behind.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, ah.  That had to sting.  And I bet they haven’t talked about it.  They’ve just drifted along and tried to ignore it.  Maybe if they spent some time working together, maybe worrying about something else, then…”

“Yeah, I hear you, pet.  I got it.  Wanna give them something to worry about?”

“Like what?” Xander asked suspiciously.

Spike grinned and tugged Xander off the bonnet of the car. “Let’s do a disappearing act.”

**

Angel pointed to something in the corner and Doyle swung the torch light towards it. “A month of renovations and you’d think the attic light would work,” he mumbled under his breath

Angel spared him a quick glance and a nod of agreement before he stalked towards the corner. 

The large demon-shaped object turned out to be a giant stuffed bear.

“There’s no demon here,” Angel declared out loud.

A cautious head peered up into the attic. “Have you found anything at all?”

“Mr Davis.  No, there’s nothing up here. The ‘monster’ is a stuffed bear.”

“N-no, that’s not right. There must be a monster.  It came up here, I’m sure of it!”

Angel scanned the attic room one more time.  “There’s nothing here to suggest that anyone or anything has been up here.”

“B-but he seemed so sure…”

“Hang on,” Doyle started. “Have you or your wife *actually* seen this creature?”

“Well, no, but my son did.  He told us all about it.”

Doyle and Angel looked knowingly at each other. “How old is your son?” Doyle asked.

“Five.”

“Huh. Five, you say?” Doyle shot Angel a look that was a cross between exasperation and pity. “Can we speak to your son?”

“Of course.  Follow me.”

“If the kid points to the closet and says there’s a monster in it, I think I’ll scream,” Angel whispered.

Doyle tried very hard not to laugh. “I’ll be screaming with you.”

“Should we just leave?”

“Nope.  Let’s interview the kid, at least.  It’s something else to put on the bill.”

Angel grinned. “I guess that’ll please Cordelia.”

“You sure? I didn’t think anything pleased that woman.”

“Money pleases that woman.  Come on, let's get this over with.  I’m not happy with leaving Spike and Xander alone for too long.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing dangerous out there.  And if there is, Spike’ll…”

“I’m not worried about that.  I’m worried about my upholstery.”

**

Angel lifted his arms in the air and dropped them again dramatically. “Now where the hell have they got to?”

After the five year old son *had* in fact pointed to the closet and claimed that there was a monster in it, Angel had smiled as much as he could without showing any fang and politely left.  The bill was going to be extortionate.

“Perhaps they’re…in the bushes?” Doyle helpfully suggested. 

Angel sighed for the thousandth time that night and pulled out his cell phone.  He dialled a number and waited. “Shit.” He dialled another number. “Damn it.  Their phones are switched off.”

“They probably just got bored and went home.  You know what they’re like.” Doyle’s voice had an edge that said that he wasn’t so sure. He glanced down and spotted Spike’s lighter lying on the ground. “Uh, maybe we should have a drive around, see if we can spot them,” he said as he picked up the silver Zippo.

Angel ran 'round to the driver’s side of the car. “Get in. Call the office.  See if they’ve gone back.” Please be alright.  Please be alright.

**

Spike ignored the phone and let the machine take it. “That good, luv?”

“Mmmm.”

“Thought so.  How about this?”

“Mmmm, yeah, so good.  More.”

“Sure, baby.  Try this, luv.  Good?”

“Mmm, yes. Gods, Spike, so fucking good.”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Angel roared.

Spike looked up and shrugged. “Eating pizza.  What does it bloody look like?”

“You want some?” Xander asked. “It’s the 4forall pizza. We got the All-Meaty pack.”

“NO! I don’t want any fucking pizza! What I want is…”

“Oi! Don’t fucking speak to Xan like that! Calm the fuck down.”

“You expect me to calm down? Why did you leave? Do you have any idea how worried I was? You weren’t answering your phones.  I called the office, no-one picked up.  What was I supposed to think?!”

Ooops.  They’d expected Angel to worry and maybe even be a little pissed, but they hadn’t expected him to be quite as furious as he was.

“Anything could have happened,” Angel continued. “You could have been dead, for all I knew!”

“Look, we got bored and we fucked off back here.  ‘S not like you wanted us there anyway.  And someone had to be back here to relieve Queen C.” Spike left out the bit about deliberately winding Angel up.  In the cold light of day, even though it was still night, it didn’t seem like it was such a wonderful idea.

“Then why didn’t you just call me?!  It would have taken two seconds to lift the phone and tell me what you were doing.  But no.  You’re too selfish to do a thing like that, both of you.  Perhaps I’ll choose to be selfish next time you really need my help.  I’ll let you both get ripped to a million bloody pieces the next time a demon comes your way.” Angel’s voice had deepened and calmed and he sounded more like Angelus than Angel.

“Angel, man. C’mon, you know what they’re like. They didn’t mean nothin’.  Lighten up, yeah?”

“Yeah, Peaches.  Do us all a favour and unclench your bloody backside…”

“Spike,” Xander warned. “I think maybe we should just go.”

“Yes, go.  Get out of my damn sight, the pair of you.” The sound and tone of Angel’s voice spoke of weariness. 

Spike gathered up the pizza and followed Xander out the door. “Fucked that up, didn’t we?” he mumbled.

“Yep. Just call us complete idiots.  I really didn’t think he’d react like that.  He’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah, just let him brood on it for a while.  We’ll call tomorrow.”

“Shit.  Remind me never to listen to you again.”

“I’ll try.  I might forget, though.  You’d better remind me.”

“You’re an idiot, Spike.”

“That’s alright, then, ‘cos you’re a twat.”

Xander grinned and slipped an arm around Spike’s waist. “You know what? If they’re anything like us, they’ll have a blazing row and then some really hot make up sex.”

“Exactly.  Did them a favour, eh?”

**

“Why are you standing up for them? They’re a liability.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

“No.”

“No. I…It’s just that, I’m responsible, for all of you.  If something happened to one of you, then…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

“Angel, what’s really going on with you?  I wish you’d talk to me.”  Doyle reached up and cupped Angel’s face in his hands. “Are we…Are we okay?”

Angel knocked Doyle’s hands away and pulled him into a crushing embrace. “Yes, yes.  I love you, Doyle.  I love you so much.”

“Then why haven’t you told me that in the last two months? Am I supposed to just guess? Been feeling really insecure, here.  I know that our sex life isn’t the best right now, but I thought we could get through it…”

“We can get through it, we can.  I’m sorry.  Please don’t hate me.  I just…I can’t…”

“What is it? *Please* tell me.”

“Too many times.  Angelus.  I can’t cope with what he did…with what I did.” Angel was silent for a moment. “But I won’t do it again.  Not anymore.  It won’t ever happen again.  He won’t be able to.”

Doyle was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, baby.  Nothing.  Come to bed?”

Doyle nodded and gently tugged Angel to the elevator.  He didn’t feel like he’d gotten any answers and really he felt like he should be standing his ground and demanding them.  But he also longed to lie in Angel’s arms, like they did every night.  The sex didn’t matter.  Angel mattered.  Being close to him mattered. Did Angel really love him? He hoped so.

**

Doyle drained his coffee mug and got up to refill it from the pot.  Caffeine was the only thing that was keeping him going right now.  Things with Angel were…tense, to say the least.  Angel had told him that he loved him, he’d held him in his arms, he’d kissed and caressed him, but still something didn’t feel right. 

He’d tried several times over the last two days to get through to Angel, break down the steely barrier and prise the truth out of him.  But it was useless.  Angel continually fobbed him off with excuses about Angelus and about how he was having trouble adjusting to life as Angel again.

Doyle knew that it was a partial truth.  Angel really was having trouble adjusting.  There were times that Angel skipped from dark and broody to snappy and sarcastic in the blink of eye.  The latter was always a stark reminded that Angelus still existed, just underneath the surface of Angel’s skin.  So, yeah, he was having problems in that department, but there was so much more to it.  He was distant and, even when he was still relatively in his Angel persona, he could often be extremely rude to Spike and Xander, unnecessarily so.  Doyle had a feeling that Spike was about ready to show off his skills with a railroad spike.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Xander.  I didn’t see you there.”

“Well, they don’t call me Mr Invisible for nothing.  Actually, they don’t call me Mr Invisible at all.  Mr Harris is what they call me.  Although, no-one ever really calls me that, either.  Except my dentist.  Everybody else calls me plain old Xander…but not with the ‘plain old’ in the front. Um, is Angel ready?”

Doyle shook his head and laughed. “Nervous, by any chance?”

“Whatever gave you that idea,” Xander grinned. “Yeah, nervous doesn’t really cover it, though.”

“Don’t worry about it, man.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say.  You’re not about to have your brain prodded by some ‘psychic’ weirdo. And what kind of a name is Jam Rag, anyway?”

“His name is Jaham Raag.  And he isn’t a weirdo.  He’s an old friend of mine.  No Spike?”

Xander turned to face Angel and he felt himself struggle to get his smile in place. “Hey, Angel.  He’s in the car.  Are you ready?”

Angel nodded and left the office.

“He’s his normal cheerful self, I see.”

“Full of the joys of spring,” Doyle said with mock cheerfulness.

Xander frowned. “Are you…?  You and Angel, are you…? Is everything…?”

“We’re fine, Xander.  Don’t worry about it.  Just concentrate on this goddess-power thing.  I really want to see what else you can do.  Some sort of mind control would be great.” Doyle waved his hand in the air. “You *will* let us see this movie for free and give us all the popcorn we can eat.  That sort of thing.”

“Like the Force! That would be so cool.  Anyway, I’d better go.  Mustn’t leave the vampires to their own devices for too long.”

Doyle laughed and shook his head as Xander bounced away.  He had to admit he was a little jealous of his friend.  Spike and Xander were far from being the perfect couple, but they were passionate, open, honest and, most of all, they clearly adored each other.  Doyle wished that he could have that with Angel.  He didn’t want someone that only confessed his love when prompted.  He didn’t want someone that seemed afraid to touch him.  And he didn’t want someone that wallowed in self-pity for his entire life.  He loved Angel, very much, but the situation could not continue.

Doyle sat down behind the desk and sipped at the hot coffee.  He winced and realised that he was missing something.  He pulled a silver hip flask from his pocket and proceeded to make the coffee Irish. Much better.  Just like it should be.

**

“It smells.”

“Will you stop bloody complaining?”

“But it does!”

“I know it does.  I just want you to stop whining about it.”

Angel sighed wistfully and leant against the wooden counter. “I love the smell of old books.  It reminds me of…”

“Old books?” Spike suggested.

Xander snorted a laugh and Angel opened his mouth to retort just as the curtain to the back of the shop twitched and a tiny old man appeared.

Jaham Raag had been a friend of Angel’s for a number of years.  Although he appeared to be just a very short and very old human, Angel wasn’t actually sure what species he was.  Jaham had looked a hundred and thirty years old for the past fifty years.  Short with long grey hair and a long grey beard, the old man was a dead ringer for Gandalf, apart from the height issue.  All he needed was a pointy hat and a cape and he would be every inch the stereotypical ‘wizard.’ Jaham had been running LA’s finest occult bookstore for as long as Angel could remember and the shop was an invaluable source of magical information and knowledge.  But the most valuable and sometimes dangerous information of all was safely tucked away inside the brain of Jaham himself.  If anyone could figure out what this power was that Isis had bestowed to Xander, it was this old man.

“Angel, sorry to keep you waiting.  Good to see you again.  It’s been a while.  I thought you’d forgotten all about old Jaham.”

Angel straightened himself up and held out his hand to his friend. “Good to see you, too.  It has been a while.  Sorry about that.  I’ve…”

Jaham shook Angel’s hand vigorously before releasing it and turning towards Spike and Xander. “Don’t even mention it.  We’ve all been busy.  These are busy, busy times.  Now, who do we have here?”

Xander smiled down at the cute old man. “This is Spike and I’m Xander.”

“Ah, yes, the terrible twosome.  Angel mentioned you on the phone.  So, you’re the one who been kicking up a storm, so to speak?”

“Yep.  And we were kinda hoping you’d be able to tell us why.  Well, not why.  We know why.  Isis did it.  At least we think she did.  We just need to know how.  Not how she did it, but how I can do it.  The storm thing, I mean.  And also whether I can do other stuff, ‘cause, you know, just making it rain would be a pretty stupid gift, not that I’m ungrateful or anything, but…”

Spike held up his hand to signal that Xander needed to stop talking. “You just have to interrupt if you ever want him to stop yapping, otherwise we’ll all be here all bleedin’ day."

“I see.  I’ll try to remember that.  Xander, if you would like to follow me out the back, I’ll see what I can do.” Jaham turned to the others. “Please make yourselves comfortable.  We shouldn’t be too long.”

“Hang on a bloody minute…!”

“Spike, let Xander go on his own,” Angel said, with a hand on Spike’s shoulder to hold him back. “He’s safe with Jaham.”

Spike eyed the old man suspiciously.  He didn’t look particularly dangerous, although Spike was well aware that looks were seriously deceiving at the best of times. “Right.  I’ll stay here, then,” Spike said with obvious reluctance. “Shout if you need me, yeah?”

Xander nodded happily, oblivious to Spike’s concern, and followed Jaham out the back of the shop.

“How well do you know this guy?” Spike asked when Jaham was out of earshot.

“Very well.  He’s sound.  You can trust him with your life.”

“But can I trust him with Xander’s?”

“Of course.  Spike, what’s the matter with you?”

“With me? I’m just looking out for my boy.  Something you could do with paying attention to, mate.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Nothing.  Forget it.” Spike sat himself on the counter and picked up a book.  Dolwin's Theory of Levitation.  He flicked through it while he tried desperately to bite his tongue.  Now was really not the time for a famous Spike and Angel row.  Angel’s behaviour of late was at the very least extremely irritating.  His Sire’s general attitude and his behaviour towards Doyle were bang out of line and Spike was getting to the point where he either needed to beat the unwanted behaviour out of Angel or just walk away from him.

Spike hadn’t known Doyle all that long, but in the two months that he’d been living in L.A Spike had grown to like the other man.  He was also very intrigued by him.  Doyle was *definitely* not all human.  Spike often wondered what kind of demon was mixed in his blood, but he’d never found the right moment to ask.  Perhaps it was best not to ask at all.  If Doyle wanted them to know, then he’d broadcast it.  Xander didn’t seem to have a clue and Spike was happy to keep it like that. 

Doyle and Xander had become good friends recently and it was no surprise.  They were like two peas in a pod.  The same humour, the same babble, the same ability to put one’s foot right in it.  Doyle even shared Xander’s past terrible taste in clothes.  So, if for some reason Doyle wanted to keep his demon secret to himself, then so be it.  Spike was confident that Doyle was no danger to anyone, so he was happy for Xander to be in the dark about it. 

There was something about Angel that Spike couldn’t quite put his finger on, something that made him sympathise.  Perhaps it was the small touches and the shy glances that Angel gave when he thought no-one else, including Doyle, was looking.  It reminded him of the way that he needed to touch and look at Xander; just a fleeting caress or a brief glimpse to make a kind of connection and reassure himself that Xander was still there, still beside him, still alive.

Yet Angel was holding back, shutting himself off, and Spike was having trouble working out why.  Yes, it was true that Angel was world famous for his Olympic standard brooding sessions, but there was something slightly different about it this time. 

Angel was clearly feeling guilt over the return of Angelus.  And this was something that he’d probably never stop feeling guilty for, just like he’d never stopped feeling guilty about the first time that Angelus had been unleashed back in Sunnydale.  So there really shouldn’t have been any change there.

But something had changed, something from between the moment that Angel’s soul had been tacked on and after they had rescued him from the Initiative base.  He was different.

Spike made up his mind.  When they got back to the office, he was going to find a way to get rid of Doyle, Cordelia and Xander and then he was going tackle Angel.  He had to find out what was going on.

It was either that, or he was going to strangle his Sire.

**

Xander closed his eyes and let his mind drift.  He’d just been through fifteen minutes of trying to clear his mind and…well, let’s just say that Xander had the sort of mind that could never be completely cleared.  So instead Jaham had opted for Xander to think deep, serene thoughts to the accompaniment of splashy sploshy whale music.

It was rather nice.  Xander lay back and thought about the laundry that he hadn’t done, the solution to Broken Sword and whether or not it was time to switch shower gels.  All the while, Jaham sat on his little red rug, surrounded by candles and smouldering incense, and chanted nonsensical words that drifted through Xander’s ears like a twisted lullaby.

Did I leave the bathroom light on?

Jaham sprinkled numerous herbs into a large brown pot by his side.  He lit another white candle and placed it in the centre.  More chanting filled the air and with a silent flash the ceiling disappeared and billowing blue clouds took its place.  Jaham closed his eyes and let Isis fill his mind.

Images, premonitions and visions suddenly darted into his brain with the force of a freight train and Jaham screamed and toppled over backwards, clutching at his head.

So much.  Too much.  He’d felt Isis’ presence, but the things that she had shown him, they weren’t what he’d expected.  He’d expected to be shown the same as Willow had apparently seen back in Sunnydale.  He’d expected to see visions of Osiris' tomb, Isis in snake form, the claiming ritual.  He hadn’t expected what he’d got. 

Fire.

Death.

A Furious Hellgod.

Terrifying visions that somehow Jaham knew were premonitions of the future.

Jaham tried to get control of his ragged breathing and he sat up and glanced over at Xander.  The clouds above them shifted and there in the middle of what was once the ceiling floated a faint outline of Isis.

“To protect,” she breathed. “It is the only way.  The only path.  It must be.”

“What’s going to happen? When? Isis?”

Isis held up her hand. “The path must be joined.  There is more to come first. You will teach and train.  Make him ready, for the others.”

“Isis, I don’t understand.  What is your gift to this boy?”

Isis closed her eyes and smiled as she disappeared into the clouds. “Life.”

The clouds vanished and the ceiling returned to its normal state.  Jaham pushed himself to stand on shaking legs and he rested his hand over his heart to check that it was still ticking as it should.  He looked back over at Xander and realised that the boy had drifted off to sleep at some point and had probably missed the whole thing.

Jaham crossed the room to sit in an old, tatty, brown armchair that had seen better days.  He felt a sudden surge of pride and honour.  How often was it that one was allowed to speak to a Goddess? Not very often.  He hadn’t just seen into Xander’s mind and Isis’ consciousness like this Willow girl had.  He had been on the receiving end of an honest to god message.  Isis would not have communicated with him if it hadn’t been for a good reason, an important reason. 

It was going to take time to sort through all the images that had flashed through his mind at such speed.  At this point in time, he had no idea what was to come, what Isis was showing him.  All he had seen was fire, so much fire.  Innocent people burning, suffering and dying.  And then there had been a flash of the boy and the two vampires.  He couldn’t piece anything else together, not yet.  He needed time alone to meditate and sort out his thoughts.

Although there was one thing that he was sure of.  The Message itself.  The gift must be a way for Xander to defend himself and those around him, to survive what was coming.  And it was up to Jaham to discover Xander’s power and make sure that he knew how to use it.

**

Jaham opened the door to the main shop area and waved Spike and Angel to join him out the back.

“Everything go alright?” Spike asked.

“Fine.” Jaham gestured to Xander, who was still fast asleep on the couch. “He fell asleep at some point during the meditation.  I thought it best if you woke him."

Spike nodded and crouched down next to his sleeping lover.  He touched gentle fingers to Xander’s cheek and spoke softly. “Time to wake up, luv.  Xan?”

Xander frowned and swatted Spike’s hand away. “Get.”

“Come on, sleepy.  Time to wake up and face the music.”

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