Beautiful Broken

Story by Lit Gal

Illustrations by Velvet Virago
......Illustrations are hidden under cover tiles, but they are not work safe.

Xander/Spike: Slavery, Non-con, D/s, Hurt/Comfort, Reference to past torture, Bondage
......NC-17 (not kidding, stop now if you're easily squicked)

Chapter 22:

As they walked into the casino, Xander wondered why he hadn’t taken Spike up on the offer to let him stay with Joyce, well that and he wondered how the demons got away with being so obvious. Spike had dressed Xander in leather flaps- black trimmed with red, no surprise there- that hung from the front and the back of Xander’s hip chains to barely cover the most vital areas. Even so, as they walked through the main room with the various dealers and gamblers and tourists, Xander was still very obviously a decorated and collared slave following at heel behind his master, and he wasn’t the only one. Humanoid demons with tiny horns or blue skin or neck gills had human slaves at heel or even on a leash, and no one really paid attention.

Well, almost no one. Xander amended that thought as he spotted the three blue-haired ladies gaping with open mouths near the front entrance. Surprisingly, they weren’t exactly in a hurry to leave either. One clutched at her friend’s arm and pointed, and Xander followed the finger with his gaze until he saw them: a tailed female demon leaned against the bar and at her feet knelt a well-muscled human slave, his hands held at the small of his back and his loincloth threatening to abandon its duty as an obvious erection pushed from underneath. His mistress’s tail flicking along his chest obviously wasn’t helping the man with his threatening wardrobe malfunction. The sight stirred Xander as well, but not for the same reasons as the ladies who seemed on the verge of hyperventilating out of either lust or horror, possibly both. That was a slave strong enough to defend his mistress; a slave strong enough to fight at Spike’s side, Xander considered as he concentrated on staying as close to his own Master as possible without causing either of them to trip.

What did those ladies think, anyway, he wondered. He’d grown used to the fact that the citizens of Sunnydale became a bit jaded living on the Hellmouth, but these ladies should be running and screaming from the sight of so many demons, not gawking at a nearly naked slave- even if the slave in question looked like an extra from some gladiator movie. Then again, people had an incredible ability to explain the inexplicable, and they probably thought they’d stumbled into a convention of kinky make-up artists and special effects techs. And really…the waitresses didn’t wear much more than the slaves, so maybe he didn’t look too outrageous given the setting.

Spike headed straight for the elevators and Xander stayed close behind, kneeling beside Spike as they waited for the elevators and wondering how many of the people wandering past them to the bathrooms knew what was going on and how many thought they were just a kinky gay couple. Then it occurred to Xander that what they had done last night and the night before and that morning in the shower…that kinda made them a kinky gay couple. God, he’d thought Anya was insatiable, but she had nothing on the Spike & Xander Show, all porn all day and all night. Xander just wondered why the constant sex bothered him with Anya when he really didn’t have a problem with it coming from Spike. He hoped that if Anya had gone all vengeancy again she never found out that he liked sex with Spike more because Spike had definitely gotten him to try kinky stuff that he had given a blunt ‘no’ when Anya had asked.

The elevator dinged its arrival and Xander stood and followed Spike inside, kneeling between his master and the wall of the elevator. As two demons without slaves entered the car after them, Xander could feel his heart rate increase as panic threaded its way through his awareness, but suddenly Spike leaned into him so that Xander could feel the leather of the vampire’s coat press against his arm, and Xander leaned back gratefully. The silent promise of protection calmed his heart even as it triggered his guilt. The elevator doors slid open onto the lower levels, and the traditional noises of a slave auction and show assaulted Xander’s senses.

Spike strode confidently out into the crowd, and Xander followed behind, keeping his eyes on the ground when he saw that many of the demons stopped to look at him. He kept repeating his internal mantra—Spike wouldn’t leave him, Spike wouldn’t leave him. He repeated it, keeping most of his mind busy with that affirmation while he allowed his training to move his body automatically. Spike walked; he stayed at heel. Spike stopped, he knelt gracefully. Spike cursed out some demon; Xander tried his best not to absolutely panic and go bolting out of the room. When that impulse occurred, Xander knew he was in trouble.

As Spike finished a conversation with a large grey demon, Xander leaned into Spike’s leg hard enough for Spike to know that it wasn’t an accident. When Spike ignored him and started walking back into the crowd, Xander felt his heart pound nearly out of his chest and only the fear that some other demon would grab him sent him scrambling after his Master. Oh yeah, he might have worked through his fear of abandonment, but based on his current state of near-heart attack, he wasn’t over the fear of being kidnapped.

Of course, he had actual reasons for that fear: Leshar, bug-lady teacher, Angel’s offer to share him with Spike, Spike’s whole “love spell” incident, the zombie trio, Faith, Lirowaus, and a dozen demon brothel clients that he really wasn’t going to think about. Yep, he had issues with supernatural creatures, and he certainly still had that in common with Droopy Harris. Hell, even Anya’s appearance in and subsequent hijacking of his life fit the pattern. Xander focused on these thoughts so that he wouldn’t focus on the demons that turned and watched him while he walked in his Master’s wake. Still, when Spike found a quiet bench in a side hall leading to the back staff area, Xander could have blessed his master as he lowered himself to his knees in the relative quiet. Of course blessing a vampire might not be the best reward. He wondered briefly whether a priest’s blessing could actually hurt his Master, and then he realized that he had missed a question.

“I’m sorry, Master. I didn’t hear the question,” he admitted red-faced.

“Noticed. Ya doin’ alright, then?”

“No, Master.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, pet.”

“I keep imagining that all the demons are looking at me,” Xander said even though it sounded arrogant, even to his own ears.

“They are. You’re a beautiful slave, and when Lirowaus took ya, he made sure to tell the whole community. Now he’s dead and I’m showin’ up with you at heel. People are lookin’ at you because you’re bloody beautiful to watch, and because they’re soddin’ dyin’ to know what in the bloody hell happened.” Xander thought about that for several seconds. “Besides, when they looked at ya last auction all you did was swing your hips more,” Spike pointed out. “So, try tellin’ me what’s really wrong.”

“I’m afraid one will try to take me,” Xander finally admitted after several moments of weighing the possibility that he would offend his Master by implying that he couldn’t protect his slave, against the fact that he really didn’t want to lie. Hell, he was the one who had leaned into Spike to try and silently ask for help. “Not that I don’t trust you to protect me, because I do, but I’m behind you.” Xander stopped when he realized he was on the verge of babble. Actually, he’d been on the verge since walking through the rear entrance to the casino, but now he was on the verge of actually babbling his babble.

Xander had dropped his eyes to Spike’s knee and he watched the creases in the denim and tried not to think about how pathetic he was. The on his knees with his legs spread, butt resting against his heels with his palms resting on his thighs part…that didn’t bother him. But being afraid to walk behind his master in a crowd made him feel even lower than Cordelia’s insults had, and he never thought he could feel lower than that. But then a hand cupped his chin and pulled his head up so that he looked into his Master’s bright blue eyes.

“I told ya to let me help when you couldn’t do it alone, and I’m proud of you. It’s bloody hard to admit when ya need help,” Spike said and then he started sifting through pockets in his duster. “Here it is,” Spike finally exclaimed, and Xander watched Spike pull out a long length of the same black mage steel that made his collar. He watched as Spike attached one end of the thin chain to the collar before standing with the other end in hand.

“An elephant couldn’t break this stuff, pet. No one takes you without me knowing,” Spike promised before starting back toward the crowd of demons and slaves who flowed by in the main corridor. Xander rose to follow, and as he watched the leash swaying and felt its slight weight, he actually did feel better as he followed a little farther back, far enough that he could get a proper swing going with his hip chains.

Only seconds before they reached their destination, Xander noticed that they were headed for the cubicle where the shurl demon had set up shop. Xander went to his knees when Spike stopped, and the woman moved toward them in a graceful sideways walk, her curving horns tilted to one side as she considered them, and Xander watched out of the corner of his eye as a slow smile overtook her features.

“Can I help you?” she asked in a voice that danced from low deep tones to bright musical ones within four words. Xander caught glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, lookin’ for a tattoo.”

“I did assume that.” She glanced first at Spike and then she looked at Xander for so long that he found himself mesmerized by her eyes: swirls of greens and blues and reds and yellows that took on strange patterns.

“How much, then, to do the boy?” Xander almost choked on his own tongue. Spike had warned him to steer clear of the shurl because they were seers, and after the fight at the last auction he’d explained how they tattooed a person’s inner truth on their skin. The strongest masters reveled in having their inner strength displayed on their chests or arms, but many a demon had found their inner weakness displayed for all to see in indelible ink.

“Won’t tattoo the unwilling,” she replied, and Xander risked a quick look up. She pounced on his mistake by kneeling down in front of him so quickly that he couldn’t respond.

“Do you see yourself?” she asked seriously, and in the absence of a mirror, Xander looked at her confused for a moment before he dropped his head submissively.

“No, miss,” he replied.

“No, you do not.” She stood and looked from the slave to the Master, and Xander expected that they were on the verge of being dismissed from the booth. He could feel Spike’s leg twitching with nervous energy beside him.

“Right, the boy don’t see himself, I could’ve told you that. That’s why I’m bringin’ him here, innit? You show him what he has inside.” Xander thought about that, and wondered if he would have an image of a bug with its wings torn off tattooed into his hide. Maybe a bird with a wing so mangled that a bone protruded from the feathers.

“Do you want it?” the shurl asked, and it took Xander a moment to realize that she was speaking to him. He considered his feelings before answering.

“If Master wants it,” Xander admitted. He couldn’t say he really cared.

“I will only do the tattoo if you both want it, for I will not tolerate an angry vampire seeking revenge for my image.” She waved a bluish-green arm and flipped her head so that her hair flew back and her horns made a circle in the air.

“Not going to bloody hold anything against you, so just do the soddin’ thing,” Spike demanded and Xander waited through another long silence.

“I cannot do his without also showing yours.”

“Wot? My truth tattooed on him? Thought you lot wouldn’t paint anything except a person’s own truth?”

“Two and two sacred,” she said reverently.

“Bloody hell, don’t start talking ‘bout stars or I’m out of here.” The shurl laughed at that.

“Two,” she tapped on Spike’s chest- “and two” -Xander felt her tap on his own head- “four.”

“Right, so ya goin’ ta do the work or not?” Xander thought about the demon’s words a little more carefully. Spike was two – William and Spike, and now she said Xander was two. Suddenly she laughed and turned back toward them after showing them her ridged back as a response to Spike’s comment.

“The boy knows truth,” she joyfully sang in her ringing tones. “Sacred four within two.”

“So, do ya know whether or not she’s doin’ the tattoo, pet?” Spike asked.

“No, Master.” Suddenly the demon moved closer and cocked her head at Spike before she started laughing.

“The young one deceives. He knows the sacred; four in two—one.” Assuming that the demon meant that Spike actually did understand, Xander looked up at his Master with questioning eyes.

“Oi, it’s shurl nonsense. They see the number four as sacred, and when two pair of soulmates find each other, they see the foursome as a sacred union,” Spike explained.

“Yes. Four two one,” the shurl commented as if that made sense. Xander waited for someone to actually translate that.

“You have four minds in two bodies, but you are one and will always be one. I cannot tell one truth without the other because you are four and you are two and you are one.” Xander considered her words and he looked up at Spike in wonder. Could Spike feel that way after he’d been so weak around the vampire?

“Yeah, if she wants to call it some holy nonsense, she can, don’t care, but I do know that we are a pair. Only person I came as close to carin’ about this much was Dru, and she soddin’ treated me like dirt when she remembered to treat me like anythin’ at all.” Xander felt Spike’s hand cup the back of his head, and he leaned into the vampire’s leg.

“You are his center,” she told Spike. “He seeks you always.” The shurl wandered around the room, seemingly without purpose as she touched various object on the shelves. “I will show him,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, “show him and you.” Xander watched as Spike fixed the demon with a suspicious gaze, but Xander found himself suddenly pulled to his feet by the deceptively strong woman and guided to a chair that reclined back, Spike pulled along by the leash wrapped around his hand, which he refused to let go.

“Truth requires pain always,” she said, and Spike stepped up.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this, come on, pet.” Spike reached out to take Xander’s hand, but Xander resisted and Spike stopped almost immediately.

“Xander, what are ya thinkin’?” Spike asked.

“I want to know.” Xander said as he focused on his Master’s stomach, unable to meet his eyes. “I have to know what’s inside and whether I’m…” Xander struggled to find a word. He knew he was broken, but he wanted to know if the pieces could ever be put back together again.

“Still repairable still strong,” the shurl interrupted his attempts to find words. “But do not say I told you first.” She winked a large swirling eye and Xander remembered Spike explaining that a shurl would never reveal anything about the image beforehand. He looked at her amused expression and realized that she was breaking one of her people’s rules, but her face somehow expressed both extreme age and a slight disdain for all rules, including her own people’s rules.

“Ya sure about the pain part, pet?” Spike asked, and Xander nodded.

“Just…stay?” he asked, feeling like a five-year-old clinging to his mother.

“Shove over then,” Spike ordered, and Xander found himself sharing the reclining chair with Spike who first settled himself in, jamming his own body into the space intended for only one person, and then pulling Xander on top so that he lay more on Spike than on the couch. Suddenly the shurl appeared with a tray of paints and an array of brushes. She set up next to the couch without commenting on the seating arrangements and settled down to work.

She hummed a wordless tune as she took a brush and dipped it in red ink before laying it against the skin over Xander’s heart. At first it felt like the time Willow had taken her water colors to him, but then the shurl demon’s hum became louder and her free hand made motions in the air, and Xander’s skin suddenly felt as if it was being slowly stripped.

The pain eased as she tossed the first brush on a counter and picked up another brush and dipped it in black. Her free hand never stopped motioning and her voice never stopped its hum-chant, and now the sensation of having skin stripped turned into a burning as the new paint touched his skin. Xander tried to jerk away from the pain, but he couldn’t move as the black brush flew to the nearby counter and she picked up another and dipped it in brown. Xander gasped for air and threw his head back as the pain continued, and he felt Spike’s cheek against his own, Spike’s hands entwined with his own, Spike’s body supporting him.

Then he understood that Spike was giving him what Giles and Angel and even Buffy never had. Spike was giving him the truth, and if it turned out that he carried the image of a broken and bleeding rat being dragged off by Spike’s demon, it would be the truth and he could handle it. Spike wanted him to know himself, and he could do that. For Spike, he *would* do that; he’d survived Lirowaus, and as long as Spike never left him, he could survive looking at himself. So he tried to relax between the layers of ink, to take shelter in the comforting touches of his Master as the shurl painted on the layers, and gestured with nimble fingers that moved so fast that Xander couldn’t see the pattern formed beneath. Grey, a touch of yellow, a touch of green, silver: he watched the shurl apply color after color as he laid his head in the crook of Spike’s neck and tried to just breathe through the agony.

“For the healing now,” the shurl finally said as she put her paints to one side and picked up a white cream. She smoothed it over the skin of his chest, the left side directly above the heart, and when Xander looked down to see the image, he could only see the white cream blending with either red paint or, more likely given the pain, his own blood. The now-pink substance covered the pattern and the shurl continued to chant as the cream slowly stopped burning and now turned cool.

Xander’s breathing returned to normal, and the shurl pulled back as she grabbed a towel and in a single swipe removed the mess and revealed a stylized “Sx” pattern. The “S” was a black snake banded in red and the “x” was a bird, a hawk if Xander remembered biology class. He gasped at the grace and beauty and strength of both parts of the tattoo. The upper half of the “x” was the bird’s wings and head; the bottom half was the bird’s long tail feathers on one side, and the bird’s thick legs reaching down toward the snake’s tail on the other. The bird wore a silver chain round its neck and Xander reflexively reached up and touched his own black collar. Xander bent down and looked close to find that the hawk, which was half the size of the snake, still had his talons buried deep in the snake. He could feel Spike under him, shifting in order to get a better look.

“Right, I’d be the snake then, what with the tempting people and bein’ evil and all.”

“They were symbols of wisdom and healing first,” the shurl said with a smirk that rivaled Spike’s own, and Xander realized she was teasing him about being a little less than evil. Xander slipped off the table and knelt as Spike stood up. Xander suddenly found himself wondering if Spike would have become typical vampire concerned about little more than feeding and shagging if Angelus hadn’t broken him and allowed all those William-shaped human bits to remain, even as Spike became the demon his sire demanded. Spike handed over the money, and Xander decided that the answer didn’t really matter because Spike was Spike, and he belonged to Spike. Looking down at the hawk’s sharp claws clutching the snake, he realized that Spike belonged to him too.

Spike started to walk out, and Xander rose to follow, still enjoying the rhythmic swing of the leash still held in Spike’s hand at one end and clipped to his collar on the other. The shurl’s voice followed them as they returned to the main corridor even more crowded with demons of various sizes and shapes.

“But hawks must have talons, vampire, remember that,” she shouted as she came to stand at the entrance to her booth.

“I bloody knew that already,” Spike barely whispered, but Xander could still hear her laugh in response behind him. With the leash in place, Xander felt more confident, and his near nudity and his decorated body encouraged him to show off just a little as Spike drove a wedge through the crowd by storming through without regard to who he offended. Xander expected they would now return to their room, which Spike had said would be a windowless suite on the third floor, but Spike led them deeper in until they reached a shop with familiar hobbles and leather and chains hanging in the front, and Xander decided that when he found slave auctions familiar he really did have problems. However, he wasn’t at all surprised as he knelt next to Spike to see the thick legs of the blacksmith.

“Look here, back on a leash again?” the blacksmith asked in an amused, booming voice. Of course his voice always boomed, but the amusement was rather new. “If he needs some re-training, Leshar’s here.” Xander knelt silently and focused on not showing the revulsion he felt at his trainer’s name, especially since that trainer would certainly consider him in need of retraining.

“Not likely. He’s trained well enough, but had a bit of a tight spot and I just want to make sure I keep him by my side.”

“Ah, Lirowaus,” the blacksmith said knowingly. “He normally doesn’t come to the sales, and he actually sent stock for the first time in years. However, I suspect that he only signed up to come in order to display his new slave in the show.” Xander focused on the blacksmith’s finely carved leather shoes as something to entertain his mind, so he almost missed the comment. The thought of performing in a show for Lirowaus sent a shiver down Xander’s back that he couldn’t control.

“So will you display him?” the blacksmith asked.

“Give it some thought,” Spike said, and Xander hoped the noncommittal answer actually meant ‘no’ even though he’d do his best if Spike wanted to sign him up. “Right now I thought I’d come for some merchandise I saw here last time.”

“We do have a wide range. I know you haven’t bought any gags or head gear, would that interest you?”

“Bloody hell no,” Spike snapped, and Xander watched the blacksmith’s feet retreat a step and shuffle once or twice. “Pettin’ him is a good part of the pleasure, and I don’t want things strapped around his head.” Xander felt a hand ruffle his curls and he held form even as he enjoyed the touch. “Besides I had somethin’ specific in mind. I saw last time you had a solluna knife set.”

“Oh yes, you are a man who knows quality merchandise.” The blacksmith shuffled away and soon the feet returned to Xander’s line of sight, but the actual merchandise being discussed was too high for him to see.

“That genuine?” Spike asked.

“Made by Gunsha himself, silver-edged curved blade on the luna knife with F’yarl inscriptions that curse your enemies’ entrails. The second is an iron-edged sol knife—straight blade with Rikad blessings on your knife arm.”

Xander wished he could see the blades, but he couldn’t even follow the rest of the conversation since Spike started speaking in a demon language and the blacksmith replied in that same tongue. Xander noticed that Spike had done that several times now, but he figured that Spike would fill him in once they reached their room. Right now he just knelt at Spike’s side and took advantage of his lowered gaze to stare at the tattoo.

The coloring on the bird was so remarkable that he could see each detail, the sun reflecting off individual feathers, the fierce gaze of the hawk, the talons stretching out and holding the snake’s tail. The silver chain lay on the dark feathers but didn’t ruffle them at all, even in mid-flight. The bird looked so formidable that Xander had trouble believing that somewhere inside he had this strength, but Spike had told him that shurls never compromised their vision.

“Stand up, pet.” Spike’s words brought him out of his haze and he gracefully rose to his feet. Before he could really get into position, he found Spike’s leg between his, pushing his feet apart, and Xander obligingly spread his legs while still keeping his gaze down. That position allowed Xander to watch as Spike fastened a leather sheath to his left leg, straps and buckles wrapping around his leg just below the hip and then again mid thigh. Then a curved and carved silver blade appeared in his vision.

“What does silver kill?” Spike demanded. Xander thought back to the time they’d stayed at Joyce’s house. Spike had taught him more about demon hunting in a couple of days than Giles had taught him in four years. Well, either that or his time as a slave had helped him learn how to listen better so that he actually listened when Spike talked as opposed to all those times that he had ignored Giles. Xander contemplated the implications for public schools. Install a Leshar type demon to administer discipline, and the students would suddenly discover a passion for learning never seen before. Xander flashed on an image of Larry in a cage as Principal Snyder lectured him on respect with Leshar in the background. Anyway, Xander knew the answer.

“Werewolves, Slod demon and Kungai if you strike the eyes, Master.” Xander felt the approving hand at his head at the same time that he heard the sputtering of the blacksmith.

“You cannot mean to allow a slave…”

“Oi, my slave; I’ll bloody allow whatever I want.”

“But he was a vampire hunter,” the blacksmith loudly protested, and Xander wondered if the demon would be comforted by the story of him falling on a vampire or of him being tossed like a rag doll by a newly risen fledge. Yep, he really hadn’t been much of a vampire hunter before, but under Spike’s instruction, he had developed a couple of nice moves. Xander hoped that the gift of the knife meant that Spike would teach him more. Maybe Spike would even teach him enough to make the shurl’s tattoo believable because right now he didn’t feel much like a fierce hawk.

Something brushed his right thigh, and Xander looked down to see Spike attaching a second sheath high on his leg; this one ran straight down his leg. Spike held a dull grey blade with dot-like inscriptions down the center of the blade.

“What do ya use an iron blade for?”

“Polgara demons and Goran if you then keep the head away from the rest of the clan,” Xander immediately answered. He knew that there were probably other demons as well, but he knew very little about killing demons other than what Spike had taught him in two days. The hand continued to pet him, and he knew he had gotten the answer right

“Vampire, you are not one to worry about others’ impressions,” the blacksmith said, and Spike just snorted. “And you must have great faith in your training to trust him with such things.”

“Trust him more than anyone else in my life, so the next demon that tries ta take my pet might have a surprise,” Spike said in a cruel tone, and Xander wondered if that meant what he thought it meant. “Pet, if any of these wankers try to take you, I want you to bloody gut them, got it?” Yep, that’s exactly what Spike meant, and Xander realized that by giving the order in front of the blacksmith, within an hour most of the slavers would know about it.

“Yes, Master,” Xander answered happily and then Spike swept out of the booth, and Xander followed before the leash could draw taut.

Walking through the crowds, Xander wondered what others saw. His black arm cuffs with their trailing laces reminded him to keep his arms still as he followed behind the only vampire slaver. He had the black mage collar with the matching decorations, the red stones on his back hanging off the lowest point of the draped chains, and the three stones hung down his front off the single chain, and as he walked he kept these steady even while swinging his hips to make the delicate chains rhythmically bounce off his legs in time with his gait, small red stones winking on the end of each hip chain. His long leash physically tied him to his Master, but he stayed close enough at heel to make the connection unnecessary for anything other than his own mental health. And now, added to these symbols of a pampered slave were two scabbards in black leather with silver etching, each containing a deadly knife designed to kill demons. Add in one very colorful, flashy shurl tattoo and he had to think that people were noticing.

Xander followed Spike past a number of booths and into the area where the slave shows attracted large crowds. Xander had heard Leshar and the others at the brothel discussing the shows and how much more valuable slaves were once they had won a few titles. Considering that valuable slaves got bred more often, a task Xander abhorred, he had always hoped to avoid these displays of slave training. Xander kept close to Spike even while he watched a ribboned girl slave walk the circle while trying to keep the perfect gait to make the lower ribbons dance while keeping her upper ribbons stationary. Xander could see she was never going to make it because she had a look of utter concentration: Xander knew that keeping the gait was a matter of getting into the swing and letting go. Xander just hoped that the blond girl didn’t have a master that would beat her when that concentration broke.

Spike wound his way through the crowd, and Xander followed, his eyes focused on the floor in front of him, so when Spike stopped, Xander went to his knees without even wondering the cause of their sudden stoppage right in the middle of the walkway. He did briefly hope no one tripped on him again, but then concerns about his own safety from clumsy demons disappeared as Spike’s hand caught him under the chin and lifted his head.

The red hair caught his attention first. Unfortunately that red hair also drew his attention to the second most noticeable feature: a bridle. Willow knelt naked on a bench, her mouth held open by a bit, and each end of the bit ending in a circle. A strap attached to the circle on either end and then around the back of her head holding it in place, a second strap attached to either circle and then went under her chin, and a strap attached to either circle extended in front of Willow like a pair of reins, and these reins where tied off to a bar high enough that Willow’s head was tilted up slightly so that she looked over the heads of the crowd. He guessed that her arms were tied because her feet were, and from the considerable drool slowly winding its way down her body like a slow moving worm, she must have been there for a while. When he could pull his eyes away, he saw Tara kneeling next to her in exactly the same position.

The girls had attracted quite a crowd, and Xander even thought he saw Ulsha and Ty near the girls although he couldn’t be sure. Spike started walking again, and Xander stood and followed despite an overwhelming urge to rush in there. He was doubly grateful for the leash that reminded him that not all things were possible. If he rushed in now he’d just screw everything up again, and so he reminded himself to trust Spike and follow Spike’s lead. Of course, if he had a chance to use his bright new pretties…. Xander’s thoughts wandered into a mental playground full of gutted monsters and decapitated Kailiff demons.

He hated that the girls were suffering. He’d been in those bits often enough to know how they hurt, and his guts twisted at the thought. First your jaw started aching from being open so long, and you would try to ease that by flexing the jaw muscles, biting down on the bit, but the metal bit would just make the teeth start to ache which would make the jaw ache even more, and it turned into a cycle of self induced pain and muscle spasms, and he longed to rip the thing off Willow’s head. Wearing that gear, she certainly wouldn’t be casting any spells.

Xander followed at heel back to the elevators, and he leaned as hard as he dare against his Master’s leg to ask for permission to speak. The only thing he gained was a comment from a Pylean that Spike had an affectionate bull. While being called a bull was actually slightly less offensive than being called an animal, Xander decided to simply wait until they were in their room.

They rode up the elevator, and Xander meekly trailed down a hall that obviously only catered to demons because here the slaves were naked and several were only partially trained as their masters dragged them to private rooms. Xander’s stomach knotted even more tightly as he thought about what was happening in those private rooms.

Finally Spike led them to a room where he swiped the card to open the door to a suite far more luxurious than their previous two auctions. Of course, all the accommodations were far better. Once the door closed behind them, Xander knelt next to the door.

“Master?” he asked, trying to organize his thoughts so that he didn’t sound accusatory.

“Yeah, pet?” Spike dropped the leash to the floor and threw his duster. Xander got up to retrieve the coat from the floor and lay it across an upholstered chair with big yellow Hawaiian flowers on a puke green background. And still it was better than the rooms at the other two auctions. Spike had left the front room to go into the bedroom, and Xander followed, going to his knees inside the bedroom door as he gathered his thoughts before speaking, an action that really told him how much he had changed from his Droopy Harris days.

“Master, why aren’t we staying near the girls?” Nice…not accusatory and very respectful.

“Not all the demons down there like me. One camp thinks I had a right to take out Lirowaus since he took my property. Another is just glad he’s gone because he tended to hoard witches instead of selling and trading like other slavers, but a big group wants me gone, pet. Ulsha and Ty are in that group, and Ulsha now has all Lirowaus’ stock.”

“Ulsha owns the girls,” Xander translated.

“Bloody right, and they soddin’ hate me, so if I’m down there too near for too long…” Spike let his words trail off.

“They’ll know you’re interested and they’ll take the girls out of the auction.” Xander finished. “Master,” he added on at the end as an after thought.

“Right. So I don’t show any interest or bid until the last minute when no one has time ta try and take them away.”

“Can’t you pretend to be interesting in buying another human, Master?”

“Pet, the slavers know I want witches, and those are the only two witches in that area. Can’t take the risk.” Xander understood, he really did, but he also didn’t want to give up on staying near enough to intervene if everything went to hell in a handbasket. Life had just gone to hell to many times lately; he had a gut level feeling that something was about to explode.

“Master, let me enter the show,” Xander finally asked.

“Bloody hell, no.” Spike whirled around in full game face, and Xander would have retreated if he wasn’t already kneeling with his back to a wall, but then he reminded himself that Spike wouldn’t hurt him…well, not unless he needed it anyway.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Xander quickly responded, and Spike practically threw himself to his knees next to Xander.

“Not you I’m angry with, pet. I just don’t want them near you, and if you’re showing, I can’t keep them away from ya.”

“I know, Master, and I don’t want to do most of the shows, but the endurance show is near enough to the girls for you to be able to see all three of us,” Xander suggested in a whisper. He didn’t want to make Spike angry, but he wouldn’t just forget it either.

“Xander, you don’t soddin’ have to do this, we’ll buy them at the witch auction in three days, and then I’ll take the lot of you home.”

“And if something happens? What if we’re up here when Ulsha makes a private sale?” Xander demanded in a stronger tone. He was right and he knew it this time.

“Then we’ll bloody track them down again, but I don’t want to risk you.”

“I’m the hawk, Master. I won’t let them take me away again.” Xander looked up into Spike’s yellow eyes and touched the demon’s cheek. “Please, Master.”

“Bloody hell, if they harm one hair on you, I’ll rip that auction apart even if it means we have to look for the girls for the next twenty years.” Spike dropped back into his human features, and Xander shivered as he felt the flesh transform under his fingers.

“I can do this Master, and I’ll do it well.”

“Don’t bloody care if you do all that slave rot well, you do the things I want ya to do, and I couldn’t care less about their show.”

“But I’ll do well, Master. I’ll do well and we’ll stay down there to watch the girls.”

“Given your track record with these demons, I think I’ll be watching you,” Spike said in a clear complaint, but he headed out and grabbed his coat. Xander picked up his trailing leash and handed it to Spike who wrapped it around his fist before heading back out the door. Xander wished he could ignore the feeling that something bad was coming even as he tried to ignore the fact that his tattoo was starting to itch.

Chapter 23:

Xander followed Spike down into the slave auction again, and he tried to focus hard on his Master rather than the shows. Leshar had trained him well to perform at the shows, and at the auction where Spike had found him, he had performed in three events. Two of those events he would happily perform again to stay near the girls, and the third he *knew* Spike would never let him near...well, not without a whole lot of holy water and many dead demons. And none of the demons here were foolish enough to mess with Spike's property after the whole Lirowaus incident, he hoped.

Spike headed straight for one of the largest competition circles—the Gait Circle, and Xander silently took his place in line behind several other kneeling slaves. Of course, the other slaves had their leashes attached to the wait pole while Xander had his Master still hovering over him, but Xander really didn't mind the difference. He also didn't mind the wait. From his position, he could sneak a few small glances, and when the crowd surged in a certain direction, he could see the girls still on display. Well aware that Spike could hear and see better than he could, and aware that too much interest in the girls would just bring trouble, Xander passed the minutes trying to slow his breathing and get into the right frame of mind for the competition.

A short, petite woman in her thirties or so stood, and Xander could see the grace in every motion of her body. He wondered how long she had been a slave as the handler for the competition attached ribbons to her naked body. Her arms and legs, her neck and waist, her wrists and ankles, her hips: over a dozen yellow ribbons in a fabric so delicate that it would break with very little effort and so light that the tails nearly floated. The assistant handler finished his task, and the woman stepped up as the last slave left the ring in a lather of sweat and trailing blue ribbons. The main handler in the middle of the ring stood by a large center pole out from which came a thinner pole that rotated around that center pole. He stood taller than a human and kept one tentacle on the rotating pole which he now swung around to the woman. The assistant took a yellow ribbon and attached the ribbon to the very end of the swinging arm before tying the dangling bit of ribbon to the woman's collar. If she pulled against the collar or didn't keep up with the swinging arm, the ribbon would break and she would be eliminated from the contest.

Mr. Tentacle in the center started walking around the center pole slowly, but the length of the rotating arm had the woman walking at a brisk clip. Xander watched out of the corner of his eye, and he had to admire her form. The ribbons on her arms and waist trailed out directly behind her while the ribbons tied to her hips and legs danced as she sashayed in a display of excellent slave training. She kept her head tilted up so that she didn't accidentally break the ribbon with her chin and she didn't even register the occasional smacks that the main handler inflicted with a long training rod carried in two of his free tentacles. She had circled several times when the assistant provided the first obstacle: a set of blocks set just a little too close together for easy navigation. Xander watched the woman spot the structure and begin to shorten her gait without slowing or disturbing her ribbons. By the time she actually reached the blocks, she nimbly stepped between the blocks and kept her rhythm without difficulty.

The handler took her through the blocks once more before the assistant pulled them off and replaced them with a tray of some substance. Xander always hated this one. The stuff was slick, and the bottom of the tray had no traction, so it forced you to keep all of your weight perfectly balanced or else fall on your ass. Leshar had been so unimpressed with Xander's performance on this obstacle that he had made a special track using this slick crap just for Xander, and then he had worked him using the breeding leash. Xander's groin hurt from just the memory. Time after time he'd slipped, and most of his weight fell on the steel loops around the very top of his legs in the indentation where leg met hip, but the third loop around the base of his genitals had taken enough of a hit to hurt like a son of a bitch. Worst of all was that the thin steel cord around his legs that inflicted a crippling bruising that left his legs almost unusable by the time he learned to keep his balance. But hey, Leshar had managed to find a way to teach Droopy Harris some grace when walking, so Xander had to be a little impressed.

The woman handled it with far greater ease. She tiptoed her way through without incident three times before that obstacle was removed. The next obstacle was speed, and Xander could see she had a problem here. As Mr. Tentacle picked up speed, pushing the rotating arm fast enough to make the woman pant, her short legs left her taking the occasional running step to avoid breaking the ribbon at her collar, but each jarring step sent her upper ribbons dancing and then the training rod would come down on her back. She had gone around the circuit twice and was obviously gasping for air when the training rod came down on her back and she stumbled.

The collar ribbon broke, and she immediately went into the Floor kneel with her forehead down on the sand of the competition circle. Xander could see her back heave as she gasped for air, and the ribbons on her legs had popped when she knelt, but the ribbon tying her hands together and the arm ribbons still draped down against her skin as a Pylean demon came into the ring to collect her. At the same time, the second handler motioned to them, and Xander felt Spike tug his collar. He rose and stood with his legs spread and his head down. While the handler attached a series of green ribbons to his body, he watched the woman who had just broken the ribbon, and he wondered what her master would do to her in private.

When Xander had practiced, the end always came with a whipping for failing whatever task he had failed, but the Pylean simply snapped a leash to her collar and gave a tug. The woman rose and followed without showing any trace of emotion. Maybe her master didn't whip her for mistakes. Or maybe she was so used to being treated like a show horse that it didn't bother her anymore if he did. Xander just reminded himself that Spike didn't think of him as an animal, and the fact that one of the ribbons was tied to each of his knife handles just about proved that. If they wanted a show then he’d give them one, Xander thought as the assistant handler tied a green ribbon to his collar, but that didn't make him an animal.

Xander gripped his left wrist tightly to make sure that he didn't accidentally break the wrist ribbon and then he stepped confidently forward at the slightest tug to his collar. The ribbon attached to his collar--the one being used to lead him--was the one in greatest danger of breaking, so Xander focused on that and let his body get into the rhythm. He'd never thought that Spike's obsession with decorating him would come in so handy, but Xander realized that he had grown so used to swinging his hip chains while keeping his back chains steady that this rolling gait was now as natural as walking...more natural, actually, since he used to have trouble with walking without falling down, and now he followed the handler's lead without any difficulty. He strode confidently around the ring and with each rotation found himself facing the girls. He could see Willow pull back against her bridle as a demon petted her hair, and Xander stifled an urge to gut that demon by focusing on his own obstacles.

He handled the blocks by stepping *on* every other block, which caused a bit of laughter in the crowd, but the handler's training rod didn't come down on his back. Xander wondered whether that meant that the handler approved of his approach or whether he just didn't want to hit Spike's property. Either way, Xander appreciated the lack of random discipline as he walked through the slick tray without more than one or two heart-stopping moments. The speed test didn't tax Xander at all. With his long stride, he kept up the pace with no more than a little heavy breathing. In fact, he liked this one since he could go back to watching his girls.

Xander watched the assistant handler push a number of upright boards out into the circle and when he came around again, he prepared to avoid the chest level obstacle by simply moving a little bit to the inside. It would mean that he would have no slack on the lead ribbon, but he thought he could make it. Just as he shifted in, the handler yelled.

"Right."

Xander had no time to correct and go to the outside, so he decided to disobey rather than try to correct himself and break the ribbon. Just as he cleared the first board on the left, he felt the training rod come down hard enough to leave a stinging line across his shoulders. The trainer yelled again.

"Right."

This time Xander detoured to the outside and cleared the second board. Now that he knew the game, he cleared the third board easily as he followed the handler's direction to go left. As Xander travelled the circle, he wondered if Spike was controlling his temper, but then he was at the board again and didn't have time to think as he followed the handler's directions. This time the handler switched to "Outside" and "Inside" and Xander earned himself another swat with the training rod when he didn’t adjust fast enough.

The assistant trainer pulled the boards back, and Xander felt the tug at his collar warn him to pick up the pace. This time the center handler pushed Xander for all he was worth, and Xander strode the circle at a pace that made his arm ribbons fly behind him as he started breathing heavily, but he kept his walking motion even as he did it far faster and with a far longer stride than normal. After three more turns at a pace that left Xander's chest heaving, the handler slowed, and Xander could see another obstacle pushed out in front of him.

He almost groaned. He hated the stairs both because of the near impossibility of keeping his ribbons from being disturbed and because the lack of up and down movement of the circling bar meant that he had to bend as he climbed in order to avoid breaking the ribbon. Xander had only practiced this move a few times because Leshar had essentially given up on it. Xander looked at the small stairs and tried to prepare his pace. Three steps, so he couldn't take two at a time without having to break his stride and earning an extra swat, so he decided to just take small steps and then step off the far end and just take the swat since he couldn't possibly keep his ribbons correctly moving while jumping down a couple of feet.

Xander took the three steps without incident, but as he stepped off the far side of the stairs, he felt the heat of the training rod against his upper thigh. He struggled to get his pace back, and his ribbons jerked wildly as the training rod came down again. Xander got back into his gait and then approached the stairs again. He repeated his tactic, but this time the training rod hit even harder and Xander lost his balance. As he fell forward, he instinctively put out his hands breaking both his wrist ribbon and the lead ribbon at the same time.

Xander immediately pulled his hands to the small of his back and went into a Floor kneel, forehead pressed into the sand. He felt the ribbons on his legs tighten and pop as his muscles flexed in the kneel, and the edges tickled his skin as he knelt perfectly still and waited for Spike to come claim him. For a moment he resisted an urge to do a Scooby dance. Oh yeah, he could do this crap better than any of their beaten-down slaves. Of course the fact that he was actually thinking this while kneeling with his head to the ground, waiting for Spike to put him back on a leash? Xander couldn’t help but be just a little amused. A tap on his head and he sat up into the Down kneel as Spike fastened the leash to his collar and started pulling the ribbons off him before leading him out of the circle.

Xander had noticed on his various circles that the number of demons watching had grown, and now the two of them were approached by a wide range of these demons wanting to talk. Given Spike’s usual impatience with all slavers, Xander expected his Master to push through the crowd, but Spike found a bench to sit on while he did a Spike version of small talk: noncommittal grunts, a variety of eyebrow movements, and occasional British curses. Xander knelt by his side still trying to catch his breath, and when a human-looking demon handed Spike a towel, Spike briskly rubbed Xander down.

“Going to breed?” a horned demon asked.

“Thought I might. He cost quite a bit.” Spike gave a non-answer answer, and Xander just barely avoided a full body shiver.

“I’d pay $200 per cover for my best three girls,” another offered.

“I’ll keep that in mind, mate.” Xander felt a tap on his butt and he rose into a Position kneel while Spike toweled off the sweat that had gathered on the back of his thighs and the back of his calves.

“Lirowaus did say he was the sweetest-tempered animal he’d ever owned,” a third offered, and Spike growled and tossed the now damp towel on the ground. The tiny demon who couldn’t have stood more than four feet squeaked and retreated, but Xander was surprised at how quickly the vampire calmed down and thanked a thin tentacled demon who had complimented Spike for Xander’s performance. Xander resisted the urge to point out that he had done the hard work.

“But to arm him…” a voice near the back said, barely loud enough for Xander to hear, but he had no doubt that Spike had caught the complaint.

“And ordering the boy to attack demons, too,” clucked a yellowish horned demoness standing not four feet away. Xander held his breath as Spike flashed into game face and stood up. The demoness might have been brave while Spike was seated and showing his human face, but the sight of Spike’s demonic face and demonic temper had the female backing up rapidly, causing a small ripple of nervous laughter in the crowd.

Xander expected that Spike had just run out of patience, but the hyper vampire just settled back on the bench discussing who had how many female slaves and who wanted slaves bred. Xander thought back to Blayne who had bragged about all his sexual conquests right before getting picked up by bug-teacher for being a virgin. If Xander did half the breeding that Spike was being offered, Xander would have tales to make Blayne’s exaggerations look subtle, and Xander found himself incredibly grateful that he had a Master who wouldn’t do that to him. Xander leaned into Spike’s leg, and his Master’s hand ruffled his long hair even as Spike continued to chat with various demons about breeding humans and human diseases.

Eventually the various demons figured out that Spike wasn’t going to start a fight with the occasional hecklers who made loud comments about Spike from the back of the crowd. They also figured out that Spike wasn’t going to sell Xander’s services at the show or set up definite appointments for later. When the crowd dissipated into the general flow of traffic, Spike sighed and stood up, and Xander followed close behind. As they walked closer to Willow and Tara, Xander stole more glances, and just once he locked gazes with Willow who had a wild-eyed look that suggested that she was having bad, bad thoughts. Xander didn’t blame her consider the bridle locked around her head. However, Spike took a sudden left turn, and Xander found himself walking away from her, hoping that she understood why they couldn’t just take her and go home. Spike stopped at a ring where two slaves were engaged in a pushing fight.

Xander recognized the one as the gladiator from upstairs in the main room. His owner, the tailed demoness, stood behind him holding a breeding leash loosely. The other slave, who stood even taller but was less muscular, wore a breeding leash held by a demon with big curving horns. He looked a little like a F’yarl, but with smaller horns and more human-like features, a description that Xander was sure the demon wouldn’t appreciate.

Leshar hadn’t entered him in this type of wrestling contest or trained him to wrestle. And when Xander had been at the auction with Leshar, he hadn’t really noticed anything other than where he put his feet. The two times Spike had brought him to auctions, Spike had avoided the show areas, and so Xander had never gotten to see most of the contests. The sexual shows held no interest for him although they drew large crowds just to their right, but this pseudo wrestling match was actually kind of interesting. The beefy guy owned by the demoness braced himself by putting one foot behind him as he crouched down. Taller guy owned by the horned demon couldn’t hunker down as well because of his long legs, but he tried to compensate by spreading his legs a little more. Xander would have worried about his exposed genitals if he were Taller Guy, but either grabbing a guy’s parts was an illegal move or Beefy Guy had ethics, because Beefy grabbed for a knee instead. Taller Guy must have been ready for that because he lifted the knee in question. Beefy Guy was thrown off balance since he had obviously been prepared for a struggle to get the knee up. Taller Guy pushed his advantage by shoving his opponent in the chest, and Beefy Guy’s knee hit the mat. Immediately both owners pulled on the leashes, and the two wrestlers were pulled apart rather painfully. Taller guy had been leaning in for another attack, and Xander could see his face contort as the breeding leash pulled him backwards. His master gave him a quick hit on the butt and the slave went into his kneel. Beefy Guy had gone straight into a kneel from his fallen position, and a third demon spoke some words before both slaves stood up and left the circle, to be replaced by two more slaves.

Xander actually would have stayed and surreptitiously watched through the hair that hung over his eyes when he bowed his head, but Spike moved on and Xander moved with him. The crowds were so thick here that Xander couldn’t even get a glimpse of the girls through the bodies and he had to stop swinging his hips to avoid hitting another pedestrian and causing a problem. Spike stepped over a boundary to another competition ring, and Xander followed, looking up to see the pedestals and the kneeling slaves. Xander might have groaned if there hadn’t been dozens of demons with superhuman hearing nearby. As it was, Xander knelt and waited. At least Spike was entering him in the shows he’d done before, and how did Spike know what shows he’d done?

Xander thought back. He hadn’t ever told his Master about it. Xander thought about the crowds that had gone by him last time he’d done this, and he wondered whether Spike had been in them. Had Spike seen his pathetic performance in the gait circle when Leshar had taken the training rod from the main handler and given Xander a neat line of red welts going down his back before attaching the leash, and taking him back to his cage to await his sale the next day? Xander remembered that the whipping had been a relief because Leshar had taken so long to claim him that Xander was afraid his trainer had abandoned him to the crowd. Had Spike seen that bit of humiliation? Xander felt himself blushing, not from memory but at the thought that Spike might have seen it. At least he’d redeemed himself in the gait circle, and he had always done well on the kneeling pedestals.

When their time came, Xander climbed the short stairs to a pedestal before the circle handler pulled the stairs away. Xander raised himself into a perfect Position kneel, the slightly corrugated surface of the pedestal bugging him but he knew from last time that he could quickly tune out that mild pain. The pedestal left him just a bit taller than usual, so Xander could see most of the demons around him even with his head lowered, and the handler now appeared with the cubes. Each cube was a one-inch perfectly smooth torture device. Okay, the torture was secondary, but Xander had to remind every muscle to stay in form at the handler placed a cube on either calf, a cube on either shoulder, a cube on the top of his head and boy wasn’t Xander happy for thick curly hair, and a cube on the top of his right hand where he gripped his left wrist at the small of his back.

The cubes were so smooth that the slightest movement would send them sliding off his body, so Xander concentrated on staying still, allowing himself to retreat into his mind. Only ‘allow’ didn’t seem to be the verb of the day; ‘force’ was more like it. Xander knew that if he could just switch his brain off, he could kneel without twitching for hours, but every time he tried to retreat into that place of no thoughts, he would have thoughts. And without that ability to switch off, Xander noticed the wavy metal beneath him that made his kneecaps ache. He noticed the various demons who walked past discussing his physical attributes at great length, and who knew demons were so fond of thick hair? Most of them didn’t have hair, but then again, maybe that’s why they liked thick hair on their slaves. He noticed the ones who stopped to check out the property as the rules allowed as long as they didn’t do something to make Xander move.

The handler hovered near the five slaves on pedestals currently showing, and Spike stood four or five feet away, no doubt prepared to kill any demon who went too far. However, the rules allowed these passing demons to cup his balls and weigh them by hand. The rules allowed them to hold his cock and discuss his genitals with their friends as though he were a dog. The rules allowed rough and clawed and slimy and cold and tentacled appendages to run across his chest and feel his musculature. Xander could feel the cube on his hand shift and he reminded himself that they had to stay there for the girls even as he felt the cube shift again. At this rate, Xander was going to have a shamefully short round. And yep, there went the cube clinking off onto the pedestal before making a humiliating ringing sound. Xander didn’t even look up at Spike as the stairs were pushed against the pedestal. The four other slaves who had been in position when Xander climbed the stairs were all still in position as Xander climbed down. Xander went into a Floor kneel as Spike walked up.

“Someone’s not happy with his first round,” the handler laughed as Xander felt Spike’s hands at his collar.

“Just hasn’t done it for a while. Should’ve practiced some, but he’ll get back in the swing.” Xander really wished he could see Spike’s face, but he hadn’t gotten a signal or a tug on the leash so he stayed on the floor.

“So, you’re going for the second round?” Xander could understand the handler’s surprise. No owner wanted to be embarrassed by having a slave perform so badly, and Xander knew that those who wanted Spike out of the auction had a little more ammunition now. Xander was just grateful that he had done so well in the gait ring. No one could say that Spike hadn’t kept up his training there.

“Yeah, mark him and I’ll take him on a short walk to work out his legs.” Xander felt the pen at his back, writing a humiliating number on his back, right where his chains would hang when he stood again. He only hoped that the chains obscured the number. With his luck, probably not. Xander felt the tug and he rose to follow his Master. As they walked, Xander could hear the snorts and chuckles behind him, but Spike ignored the looks that even Xander could see with his bowed head. Spike led him to another short hallway and they stood close to a service door. Xander tried going to his knees, but Spike’s hand on his arm stopped him. He stood and waited for the lecture that he knew he deserved. He was putting the girls in danger by giving ammunition to Spike’s enemies. He was embarrassing himself and his Master. He was screwing up, which kind of proved that despite Giles’ fears, he did still have Droopy Harris in him somewhere.

“Pet, what’s wrong?” The worry in his Master’s voice almost released the tears that threatened.

“I just… I can’t let go,” Xander couldn’t find better words, but he knew those words didn’t explain the problem.

“When I saw ya do this before I bought ya, you stayed up there hours without even twitchin’. I got bloody bored watchin’ you, so what’s different now?”

“I can’t stop thinking, noticing….things.” Xander didn’t want Spike to know how the hands bothered him or Spike would take them right back up to the room, but Xander wanted to stay until Ulsha put the girls away for the night and there was less chance for a private sale.

“What things are ya noticing, pet?” Yep, count on his Master to zoom right in on the one thing Xander didn’t want to say. Stupid, observant vampire.

“The demons talking about me,” Xander dropped his voice to a whisper, “touching me.” Xander saw the fierce look in Spike’s eye and he rushed to say his piece before Spike made a command and Xander was stuck following it. “But I want to stay down here, and I know I’m safe with you there, but I can’t just turn off and ignore everything like I used to.” Spike was silent, but at least the fierce look had been replaced with something more thoughtful.

“So ya used to think of nothing at all?”

“Yep. Buddhists would have been jealous of how I could do the whole ‘nothingness’ thing…or is that Zen who try to reach nothingness?”

“Bloody surprised you listened well enough in school to even remember the religions’ names, pet.”

“They had this cartoon…” Xander started, and when Spike’s eyebrow shot up in an amused expression, Xander broke off. “And I’m just stopping there,” he finished.

“Pet, this time when you go up, I want ya to focus on me. I’ll stay right in your line of sight; it’s a good place for me to listen for the witches anyway. So I’ll focus on the witches, and you focus on me.” Xander thought about it, and it was a better solution than focusing on the various demons touching him.

“Yes, Master,” Xander answered with relief, and Spike turned and started back for the pedestals without another word. When they reached the show circle again, Xander could see a large number of demons had gathered, among them the yellow demoness who had earlier criticized Spike. Xander realized they were there to see him fail, but Spike walked by without comment. Xander climbed the pedestal again and went into his second show positions—a Down kneel with his hands palm down on his thighs. Cubes went on the back of his hands and his head and his shoulders and then the timing began.

Xander could see each of the demons approaching him, and when the first scaly hand went immediately for his cock, he forced his eyes away from the hated fondling and looked for Spike. Spike leaned against a pole and wore an expression of indifference, but Xander could see the truth in the hands that now lit a cigarette. The sharp motions as Spike flicked open that old lighter and the flick of his wrist as he tossed it in the air before catching it and shoving it into a pocket. Xander never realized how much Spike said with his hands. Now, Spike’s hands screamed “hands off” even as Spike’s face remained a mask of calm. Xander smiled a little at the thought that Spike was even more bothered by those roaming hands than he was.

Xander thought back on their time together since Spike first picked up that heavy chain Leshar kept locked to his neck, and Xander couldn’t help but be amazed at the changes in both of them. Spike no longer gave orders without paying attention to how Xander reacted to the orders, a lesson Giles and Angel certainly needed to learn. But Xander realized he had changed too. He had failed miserably, and yet Spike hadn’t punished him. Even more importantly, Xander hadn’t expected punishment: a lecture, yes; punishment, no.

On the far edge of his awareness, Xander noticed as another slave broke position and sent a cube tinkling down. Xander remained focused on Spike’s impatient movements. Someone had told him not to smoke, and after a vicious but unsuccessful staring contest, Spike had put out his cigarette and turned to other forms of distraction. Right now he had Xander’s leash in hand, and he twirled the doubled-over chain with such speed that other demons avoided a six foot radius around Spike. At auction number one, Spike had shocked them by paying way too much for a slave. At auction number two, Spike had beaten the crap out of some clumsy demon who managed to fall over that slave. At auction number three, any demon who walked near Spike risked decapitation. Xander listened to another set of cubes go tinkling as he considered that Spike wasn’t going to get many more invites at this rate.

Xander let himself drift into a haze where he only saw Spike, who was clearly dying of boredom. Demons had begun to approach him, and Xander could tell that Spike struggled with an urge to rip off heads in frustration. He could see it in the way that Spike flexed his fingers and didn’t make eye contact with the various slavers speaking to him. A number of them laughed, and the corners of Spike’s mouth turned upward in an expression that might be mistaken for a smile, but was actually much closer to the constipated expression Spike got when someone mentioned Lirowaus. Heck, maybe someone did mention Lirowaus. Another tinkling sound.

The tailed demoness who owned Beefy Guy came along, and with a wave, she sent her slave pushing into the crowd as she flowed in the wake he created. Xander couldn’t believe that a slave would physically shove demons like that, but the man went through the crowd like a linebacker. Xander watched as Spike’s lips pulled together and his cheekbones sharpened: Spike’s trademark look of amusement. Beefy Guy went to his knees near Spike, and Xander felt a momentary flash of jealously. A set of cubes went tinkling and for a moment Xander worried it was his set, but the handler pushed the stairs up to the pedestal next to him, and a petite black-haired woman climbed down and knelt on the floor as she waited for her missing master to show up and claim her. Her skin was so dark that the handler wrote her time in white pen: four hours, nineteen minutes.

The time surprised Xander because the woman had been led to the pedestal after he had taken his place. As Xander checked in with his body, he was suddenly aware of his aching knees and empty stomach and full bladder and cramping muscles, and oh god was that ever a huge mistake. Xander knew he couldn’t hold position for long now that his body had managed to make its unhappiness known, so he focused on ignoring the pain until Spike finished with the tailed demoness; he seemed to like her. He’d chased the other demons off to talk just to her, and Xander didn’t want to interrupt that.

Xander watched as the demoness took a seat on her slave’s back, petting his shoulder as he held a hands and knees position, and Spike nodded in agreement to something she said. Xander grimaced in pain as his kneecap sent up a flare just as Spike looked over to him, and the vampire went instantly stiff. Xander wondered if someone or something threatening was near, but he didn’t have long to wait as Spike practically charged across the wide corridor with his coat flapping. When Xander had a flash of Superman and his cape superimposed over the image, he knew he was near the end of his endurance and just getting punch drunk. The next tinkle came with the feel of the cube from his head sliding down his back. Spike didn’t go and threaten anyone or chase anyone away as Xander expected; he came right to Xander.

The stairs appeared next to Xander’s pedestal, and Xander struggled to unfold his legs. His first foot touched the stair and then strong hands at his waist took most of his weight as he unfolded himself and noticed the thick indentations on his knees from kneeling on the rough surface. He climbed down with Spike’s help, and when he tried to go into a proper kneel, he found himself held up in Spike’s embrace.

“Well that was a significantly better showing,” the handler remarked as he wrote a number on Xander’s back while Spike held him upright. Pins and needles coursed through Xander’s lower legs and he buried his face in the crook of Spike’s neck as he felt one strong arm around his waist holding him close, and the other petting his hair.

“You’re right, he’s a good slave,” a female voice remarked, and Xander didn’t even bother to look. He couldn’t have cared if someone paid him to. He just wanted his lower legs to rejoin the rest of his body.

“Mite overenthusiastic at times,” Spike replied, and Xander made a small snorting sound against Spike’s neck. He knew enough of Spike’s history to know that his Master could outdo him in both over-enthusiasm and obsessiveness. Spike’s only response was a small tug at his hair.

From the sound of footsteps, Xander guessed that the demoness had left and then he found himself half-walked and half carried back to that service hall where Spike lowered him to the floor and pulled his legs out straight so the blood could return to the abused limbs.

“The girls?” Xander immediately asked in a hushed tone.

“Put away for the night, could hear locks closing on a cage so I think they’re done for the day. Ulsha turned down three different private sales, so he’s expecting the witches to bring big money, and they probably will. Red’s got big mojo, and Glinda has more control over her magic than any ten witches. She can do some delicate spells that a less controlled witch like Red couldn’t even attempt.” Xander looked at Spike curiously. How could he know that? Luckily for him, Spike was still doing his mind-reading act.

“Been listening to the slavers discuss the girls, and quite a few of them can feel the magic coming off a witch. These slavers are experts, so I tend to believe ‘em, especially when they don’t know I’m listening.” Xander chuckled a little at that even as Spike’s massaging hands brought blood into his lower legs, and with the blood came more pain. Xander groaned.

“Worth it,” Xander said through clenched teeth as the pain started to lessen.

“Let’s get you up to the room. No more shows for you until tomorrow,” Spike said, and Xander used his Master’s arm to pull himself up, glad that he wasn’t going to have to fight in order to enter tomorrow’s competitions. There were still a number of non-sexual events he could enter so they could stay in the area, and Spike was obviously able to keep tabs on the girls, so Xander would be down here tomorrow just in case Ulsha got an offer he couldn’t refuse. In that case, he and Spike could follow the purchasing demon and make an irresistible offer of their own.

Xander touched the hilt of the curved dagger and almost hoped that did happen. Seeing the girls tied like that and knowing that they were sleeping in a cage made Xander itch to find out just how sharp his fancy new magical knives truly were.

“Got one last stop before we go upstairs. Seems there’s been a capture in the last day or so, someone snooping around various hotel basements.” Xander’s head snapped up at that, but then Spike was attaching the leash and Xander went back into position with his head bowed even as he wondered whether Spike meant what he thought Spike meant.

Spike took off into the crowd and Xander followed, his hips swinging a little less than usual both because of his sore legs and because of his fear about just who had been captured. He could think of a couple of answers that would horrify him, but Spike remained silent on the issue, and Xander knew to wait until they were in private to talk. When Spike came to a halt near the sound of shuffling and clanking, Xander knelt next to his Master, ignoring the complaint from his knees as he watched in horror. Yep, Giles. Giles stripped naked and chained with the whole lower half of his face covered by some sort of gag. His legs were chained with enough slack to allow for correct position, and his hands weren’t chained together, but rather a chain leash was attached to each arm with a demon behind him holding the leads. Giles was wildly pulling back away from the trainer who held the leash attached to his neck even as the black-skinned demon pulled him forward and repeated the command “Down.”

Xander flashed back to his first lesson with a score of minions on hand to force his body into the required positions and hold him there; one demon hand always held his cock as a convenient way to get a stubborn slave to go to his knees. Another’s favorite hand hold had been Xander’s cheek with a thumb inside Xander’s mouth while the rest of the demon’s large hand curled around the back of his head so that his mouth was pulled painfully back. This trainer had another approach; a second slave in the ring went into the correct position and a handler standing behind him stroked the slave’s hair and put a treat in his mouth. The handler behind Giles who held the arm leashes cracked the training rod across Giles’ back so hard that Xander flinched at the sound.

Then Giles looked over and Xander saw the moment when the Watcher spotted him. The man’s shoulders slumped, and Xander ached to go in there and tell Giles that he was fine. But he couldn’t, and the main trainer gave another command, one that Leshar didn’t teach. “Curl.”

The second slave went on his back and opened his legs, pulling them up to his chest and curling an arm around the back of each knee. This time the trained slave’s handler stroked the sensitive skin between the balls and the anus, making comforting sounds even while Giles redoubled his efforts despite the fact that it was impossible to escape. Xander felt tears rise as he realized how much the Initiative had destroyed. If they hadn’t mishandled the demon community or if they hadn’t killed Buffy, this would have all been so much easier to fix. But now Spike walked away, and Xander rose to follow without a comforting word for the man who had been more of a father to him than his own father. But then, what comfort could he offer? With all those demons around he couldn’t say anything and as cowardly as it was, he was grateful that Spike led them back towards their room.

They walked in silence and when they finally reached the room and shut the door behind them, the words almost burst out of Xander.

“Master, what the hell are we going to do now?”

“Hirset plans ta demonstrate his training methods on the Watcher so he won’t be sellin’ the soddin’ idiot. We’re goin’ to have to do something I really wanted to avoid.” Spike said unhappily as he dropped the leash and tossed his coat at the chair. Xander followed behind and picked up the coat and smoothed it out before draping it over the chair. He followed as Spike shed clothing, picking it up as he waited for Spike to finish his thought. He could tell from the soft growling sound that Spike had more to say.

“Goin’ to have to call my sire, aren’t I now?” he complained as he ripped the laces loose on his boots before dropping them and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door after him. Xander understood that sometimes Spike needed some space, but he silently cursed his Master for not letting him use the damn bathroom before locking himself in it. Xander walked out and considered the sink above the little microwave. It wasn't that bad yet, so he put away Spike’s discarded clothing before going out to the main room to watch television.

Tossing a couch cushion on the floor, he sat cross-legged and picked up the remote as he considered just how screwed they were. Hundreds if not thousands of demons, many of them hostile to Spike. The girls weren’t scheduled for sale for two more days, and Xander didn’t even want to consider what two days of training would do to Giles. Angel, who had a bad habit of being fatalistic and making plans that involved acceptable losses. The image of Larry and Harmony floated into his memory and he pushed them aside. Oh yeah…this wasn’t going to end well. Xander reached up and scratched his tattoo.

Chapter 24:

Xander made the bed as he listened to Spike, still naked from his shower, argue on the phone. The minute he had realized that his very first ex was on the other end, he could have told Spike it wouldn’t work unless Spike could get to LA and physically threaten the woman’s clothing.

“You brainless tart…” Spike started, but then broke off as Xander could actually hear Cordelia screeching something from across the room. He calmly smoothed the sheets and pulled the blanket up. “He’s me bloody sire, so I don’t care what he soddin’ told ya, use what little brain you have ta give me his bloody number!” Spike went into game face as he yelled that, and Xander walked around to pull the blanket up on the other side.

Spike had been so upset when they woke that he had insisted on showering alone. The first time they had showered together, Xander had still been Leshar’s in many ways, and he had aroused Spike because that’s what he had been trained to do. He’d knelt waiting for the order to finish, an order Spike gave to avoid having blue balls all day; however, Spike had never let Xander wash him again because that trained sexual behavior had bothered Spike. Now that Xander reacted out of lust and not training, they had rediscovered shower sex with a passion. Xander had grown to very much appreciate the vampiric strength that allowed them to try some downright outrageous positions. However, the thought of having to call Angel had put Spike in a horrible mood, and then not being able to reach Angel put him in an even worse mood. So no shower sex today, to Xander’s silent chagrin.

“Fine then, just tell my bloody sire that if he doesn’t get his fat arse in gear, the effin’ Watcher’s never goin’ to survive.” Spike slammed down the phone and muttered about dismembering cheerleaders as Xander finished making the bed. Xander walked over to the dresser where his weapons and decorations lay, and he trailed a finger down the silver engraving on the carved knife. Spike had given him lessons last night, and Xander longed to feel the leather scabbards against his skin, he wanted to walk among the demons knowing that he could kill them with a blade that would cut through skin and muscle and bone. Of course, if things went well, he wouldn’t ever have to use the blade, and that would be of the good considering his whole staking-by-falling history. Of course that wasn’t him anymore, was it?

Xander turned and watched Spike shred a helpless pad of paper that had been sitting next to the phone.

“Won’t risk you and I won’t risk the witches, not when we’re this bloody close. The soddin’ wanker got himself into this and he can get his own arse out of it.” Spike’s words may have rejected any responsibility, but the shredded paper spoke of Spike’s sense of guilt. Xander considered it from Spike’s point of view; Spike had promised Buffy that he would take care of the survivors, Spike had financially supported Giles’ store by refunding disgruntled customers, and now another demon had taken Giles. Xander considered getting on the phone himself, but he knew that he had even less chance convincing Cordelia than Spike did. He couldn’t really help with their current problems, but he could certainly help his Master. He picked up his hip chains, now with the added modesty flaps that were anything but modest. He worked the fastenings for the flaps loose from the hip chains before pulling the decorative chain around his own hips. It felt strange to attach them himself, and he didn’t have the ankle chimes that Leshar used to tie around his ankles when he danced, but he could do this.

Xander strutted toward the chair where Spike sat, fixing his Master with a smouldering look. Master needed distracting, and Xander was just the slave to do it. Xander swung his hips wider, first throwing his weight to the right and rocking his hips slowly once, twice before throwing his weight to the left and repeating the movement. The glittering gems on the end of his hip chains swished back and forth, thudding against his legs much higher than usual as his body moved to the non-existent music. Xander swiveled so that Spike would see his back and added a sensuous arm movement that made the muscles on his back ripple. Xander glanced over his shoulder and saw Spike’s gaze locked onto his body, but the blue eyes spoke of control, and Xander wanted Spike to lose control, for just a while.

Still moving in his silent dance, his fingers tracing patterns in the air, Xander moved back to the dresser and slid down on the corner suggestively, using it like a stripper’s pole. Flecks of gold swirled in Spike’s eyes… he was close to the edge, but Xander wanted it all. His eyes fell on the solluna blades, and Xander pulled the grey knife out of its sheath and held it flat to his chest as he danced. Xander had never tried this, and he knew these knives to have a supernaturally sharp edge, so he barely touched the blade to his skin as he danced. A thin red line appeared down his chest. The knife was so sharp that Xander didn’t even feel the cut, but Spike was feeling something. Xander looked over to find Spike in ridges and yellow eyes, his head tilted up slightly as his nose flared. Xander drew a second red line down his chest and then ran his hands up the sticky fluid before turning his back and slowly slipping his now-wet finger into his own waiting hole.

Blood, Xander discovered, did not a good lubricant make, but it sufficed and Xander was very used to Spike, so he slipped the second finger in without too much difficulty. Xander turned back to face Spike as he continued to undulate and prepare himself even as he used the blade to scratch up each thigh. Working his way back to the dresser he lay the knife down even as he felt the drops of blood slide down his chest. He danced to the side of the bed without removing his own fingers, which actually took a lot of flexibility, and Xander picked up the lube as he made a show of preparing himself fully. Xander was beginning to wonder what it took to make Spike lose control, which was funny considering Spike was the one they had all assumed had no self-control, but when Xander turned his back to Spike in order to put the lube back, he found himself suddenly lifted and thrown onto his back, on the bed, with Spike over him.

Spike growled loudly, and Xander rolled his hips in both invitation and a mock attempt at escape. Spike growled again and lowered his mouth to Xander’s chest where he began to lap and suck the blood. Xander bucked for real now. This was supposed to be ‘tease the vampire’ time, but as Spike worked his way down Xander’s body, Xander writhed in helpless desire. Spike licked him clean of all the blood before sitting up on the bed with a smirk.

“Not enough ta feed a real vampire,” Spike insisted as he settled down between Xander’s knees. Xander spread his legs and tilted his head to the side in invitation, which left Spike looking very smug. He didn’t say a word; he pulled Xander’s legs up and sank all the way in with one solid thrust, and Xander gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness and sexual energy as his prostate sent happy messages to his cock. Xander squirmed and reached for Spike, and then he found himself nearly bent in half as Spike pulled his legs up and then bent down to bite Xander’s exposed neck. Xander clutched at Spike’s back as the vampire thrust in time with his sucking so that Xander’s body turned into one giant impending orgasm reaching from his neck to his ass. He was so lost in pleasure that he was about to forget the ‘Master coming first’ rule when a cool hand slipped in and squeezed the base of his cock.

Now Xander really started bucking with need. Each of Spike’s powerful thrusts matched with a draw at his neck and each made him need to come with such urgency that he reared up and tried to dislodge the hand gripping his cock, preventing his release. Screw the training, Xander needed to finish now, but no matter how he wiggled, he couldn’t move the hand that trapped the orgasm. The thrusting just grew harder and Xander grabbed the back of Spike’s head, pulling him even closer as Xander’s body slammed upwards in a bid for freedom.

Finally gasping for air, Xander reached up and locked his teeth onto Spike’s neck so hard that he could taste the zing of vampire blood on his tongue. Spike groaned and instantly thrust in hard and started coming. The hand let go, and Xander followed his Master’s release. Xander dropped his head back to the pillow, freeing Spike’s neck, and he could feel Spike sliding out of both ends of his body as he straightened out. Looking down he realized that he was going to have to take another shower, and this time the hip chains were going in with him.

“Feeling better, Master?” Xander asked Spike, who still hovered over him, panting unnecessary breaths.

“Bloody hell, feel great,” Spike said with a slap to Xander’s hip. “You need a shower, though.” Xander looked at himself and then at Spike.

“You too,” he offered suggestively. Vamp biology was a very handy thing, and Xander didn’t need to come every time; he just enjoyed knowing that he could make his Master lose all control, a power he’d never held over another lover. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be able to come for a while after the force of that orgasm.

“We’ll never get down there if we do that, Xan.” Xander considered the truth of that, and pushed Spike to the side.

“Me first, Master,” Xander grinned as he headed for the bathroom. Spike laughed, but Xander wasn’t kidding; Spike wasn’t the one dripping assorted bodily fluids.

By the time they were in the elevator, Xander felt a little guilty about the distraction sex. What if the girls were gone? What if something had happened to Giles? When they reached the basement, Spike walked past Hirset’s booth without stopping, so Xander only caught a glimpse into that area. New trainers had taken up positions, but Giles and the other slave remained. Each looked exhausted, and Giles knelt on the floor with his head hanging, either attempting a position or just too tired to take up any other posture. Xander felt the tug at his collar and he realized that he had fallen badly out of heel. He hurried after Spike who charged through the crowd in obvious aggravation. Xander breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the girls already tied back into position, and he really shouldn’t feel relief at that horrible sight, but he did. The idea that they might have been sold had troubled his sleep, and he knew he had to make a regular marathon of the kneeling pedestals or Spike would have to find another show or competition for Xander.

Xander approached the pedestals and climbed the stairs to one of the two empty positions. He folded himself into the Floor position with his forehead pressed to the pedestal, and almost immediately he knew he was in trouble. The buckles for the knife sheaths dug into his skin even as the handler put a cube on the back of his head, down his backbone and on each of his arms. Usually this was the easiest kneel and in past shows Xander had nearly gone to sleep in this position, but now he was forced to send little messages to his legs to ignore the pain. Oh well, if worse came to worst, Spike could have him chained on the display wall. It would mean a lot more touching, but it would keep them in the area.

Knowing that he couldn’t retreat into nothingness, Xander distracted himself from the irritating pain in his thighs by imagining what he would do to Ulsha given the chance. He thought of the girls as they were displayed for passing demons and his heart pounded faster. Then his thoughts pounced on Hirset—he’d earned a place in Xander’s revenge fantasies for leaving Giles slumped on the floor naked and chained. Xander had created such a nice little torture scene that he didn’t realize that the screaming he heard was coming from the auction, until he felt himself pulled off his pedestal and looked up to find Spike in game face.

“What’s happening?” Xander looked around in confusion as demons scattered and slaves cowered. An explosion from the food court area gave Xander a pretty good idea of what was going on, and then Spike started hauling him toward the sounds.

Understanding Spike’s intentions without a word, Xander pushed himself closer to his Master. Spike released his arm and concentrated on pushing through the crowds of demons that ran from the area. Smoke now curled around the ceiling and Xander hoped that Spike remembered that the people he wanted to rescue needed air. He also hoped that Angel remembered that humans breathed oxygen, because he really didn’t doubt that Angel was the one insane enough to attack an entire hotel full of slavers. Okay, a hotel mostly full of slavers, plus a few blue-haired ladies that had stumbled in and decided to stay.

A hand reached from behind and grabbed Xander’s arm, and Xander pulled his silver knife and sliced the demon’s arm open before he even noticed that it was Leshar. Leshar growled as Xander turned and swung again, aiming for a vulnerable stomach, but his trainer fell back into the crowd and disappeared, and that’s when Xander realized he had lost Spike.

Cursing himself and holding the knife close to his forearm, Xander fought his way forward towards the girls and hoped to meet Spike there. When he got closer, he could see that Ulsha and Ty had abandoned them in the panic to evacuate the building. The girls were still tied in place and bucking against the bonds so wildly that he could see blood at the corners of Willow’s mouth. Xander swung and cut the lines tying the girls in place before pulling them back farther into the booth and away from the crowd.

“I can’t use the knife, it cuts through skin and I might slip,” Xander explained as he sheathed his knife. “Do you know if Ulsha keeps cutters?” he asked, and Tara nodded toward the back. Xander calculated the risk of leaving them against that of taking the extra time to drag them into the back. Making a decision, he darted into the back and yanked open drawers. With slave tack from three drawers dumped on the floor along with the drawers themselves, Xander finally found the scissors in drawer number four and ran back to the girls. The heavy shear-like blades easily cut the bonds at their hands and feet, but the blades refused to go through the leather of their bridles. Xander’s forearm muscles stood out in long cords as he applied every bit of strength he had, but he couldn’t get the blades to close and Tara’s hand on his arm stopped him. She had found a pen and wrote on her hand.

“Magic, can’t cut.”

“Shit,” Xander swore and Willow nodded even as tears spilled down her cheeks. Xander stood and looked frantically for Spike. He didn’t want to run out the main exit; they would be three expensive, unaccompanied slaves in the middle of a group of demons who had just lost valuable merchandise, but he didn’t want to stay here too long with the smoke starting to creep down. Xander considered working his way farther in toward Giles and, he suspected, Angel. Just then a demon wrapped a tentacle around his arm and pulled him into the corridor. The thing hissed in some language that Xander didn’t know, and he used his free hand to grab his straight knife and drive it into the creature’s guts, pushing the knife upwards and finding very little resistance as a sticky substance started running down his arm.

The tentacle around his wrist tightened as a beak-like mouth clicked furiously, and Xander changed tactics as he pulled his arm free and brought the knife down on the tentacle, slicing it cleanly from the body. Xander swung the knife again, but the demon moved out of the way with one half of his body while the other half flowed around to the other side and grabbed Xander’s knife hand. Rather than fight the demon’s strength, Xander pulled his silver curved knife with his other hand, and this time went for the one recognizable feature: the beak. As Xander surprised the demon by pushing toward it instead of pulling back, he brought the knife down on the beak and prayed that his Master had been right about how tough these blades were. The knife hit its target, and Xander nearly lost the blade as it cut down into the beak causing the demon to rear back, pulling its remaining tentacles around its face and nearly dragging the knife out of Xander’s hand as the curve of the blade stuck fast in the remaining beak. Xander held on and jerked up to pull the knife free, and he was rewarded with a handful of silver knife and stinky orange goo. Xander realized that a number of demons now looked his way and Xander ducked back into the booth.

“We have company, we’ve gotta move. We’re going to go in further and hopefully meet up with Spike and Angel. If not, we’ll take an employee exit where we’re a little less likely to get tucked under some slaver’s arm and hauled out of here.” Xander pulled on Willow’s arm, but the bridled witch refused to move. When Xander looked over in confusion, Willow gestured toward herself with one hand while wrapping her other hand around her knees which she had pulled up to her chest.

“What?” Xander tried to keep his voice calm despite his growing panic. Ulsha and Ty were cowards, but other demons might risk the fire for three valuable slaves. Xander’s fight had been entirely too public, and he wanted to move *now*. Tara reached over and showed him her hand with a single word written under the earlier comments. Xander stared at the hand unable to even process the request. Thinking back on his time with Lirowaus, he knew the girls had been treated much differently, even treated like thinking creatures who had some dignity, but his was so far from Xander’s experiences, that he couldn’t even form an argument. Besides, arguing would just attract more attention and probably take more time, Xander dashed back into the back and grabbed a few blankets before snagging some leashes off the floor where he had dumped them while searching for scissors. When the leashes tangled, Xander just pulled all the equipment to the front with a curse.

He tossed each girl a blanket and fidgeted as they quickly wrapped themselves in the blankets and then used the leather leads to tie their makeshift clothing in place. Xander watched the smoke level drop until it was nearly at their heads, and then checked to see that the girls were ready before he gripped the silver blade and dashed for a partially demolished slave pen—a box-like structure where busy masters could leave their slaves for a while. When he stopped and turned, the girls slid in behind him and Xander checked to see if any of the few remaining demons were paying attention to them. Okay...blue guy in the corner, two Pyleans by the kneeling platforms and the F’yarl-looking dude. Oh shit. Xander gestured to the girls before he took off again, this time aiming for a food booth where Spike had gotten his blood. If he could just get their bridles off, the girls would be quite a force, but Xander didn’t trust his skills, and he didn’t want to maim their faces.

Xander’s dash for the food booth stopped short when a thick-necked demon with chin horns stepped in front of him. Xander swung the blade immediately, and the demon fell back, obviously surprised. The demon then reached forward to grab Xander, and Xander fell back into a defensive position. A couple of slashes proved to the demon that Xander wasn’t easy prey, and Xander groaned as the demon waved in the two Pyleans. Pulling out his second blade, Xander moved on the first demon before reinforcements could arrive. The knives cut with such ease that the demon’s attempts to block Xander resulted in several arm wounds, but then Xander lost the curved blade as the demon extended a bone spur unexpectedly and used it to snag the knife. The demon lost his bone spur, but Xander’s loss of a knife crippled him and he knew it.

He lunged forward with his remaining blade, missing his mark entirely right before he had to shift to fend off the Pyleans who joined the fight. One rushed him on the right, and Xander knew he was about to go down. Hopefully the girls would use the distraction to get to Angel and Spike. Then two figures flew out and hit the Pyleans from the side. Willow and Tara couldn’t really damage the Pyleans with their bare hands, but Xander took advantage of the situation by quickly cutting off the head of the demon who had turned to capture Tara. When Xander turned, he noticed that Mr. Thick Neck had retreated, leaving just one Pylean in the increasingly murky air. Xander stabbed forward and at the last minute, the demon swerved, pulling Willow with him, and Xander couldn’t physically stop his arm as he watched the knife plunge into his best friend. Her eyes went wide and her lips pulled back in a scream she couldn’t utter through the bridle and Xander pulled back the knife as the blood started to flow.

Maybe it was something in Xander’s face, he didn’t know, but the Pylean took one look at Xander and fled the scene. Xander dropped his beautiful knife to the floor and gathered Willow in his arms as a wave of panic and desperation hit him hard enough to leave him gasping. She was bleeding her life away, and Xander pressed his hand against her stomach in some memory of a first aid class, but Willow only gurgled in pain and he pulled his hand away covered in her blood. Oh god no. Not again. He couldn’t survive this guilt again.

Another memory came to his mind, and Xander scooped Willow up in his arms as he hurried down the middle of the aisle, not caring anymore who saw him. Some little part of him hoped some demon would drag him away now that he was unarmed because then he wouldn’t have to watch Willow die; he wouldn’t have to know that his stupid idea didn’t work. He was putting his faith into finding the tattoo shop, finding the jar of healing cream and having the healing cream work on a wound so large, and Xander knew that was entirely too much faith for him to put in the universe. The universe had stopped giving him favors a long time ago, but he still half-ran and half-stumbled through the smoke, Willow’s slender body clasped tight in his arms. He prayed as he ran that the universe would just give him this one big favor in return for all his little or not-little requests it had ignored in the past.

Xander spotted the familiar aqua and green fabric walls as he lurched through the door. Based on the rest of the auction, Xander had expected a ruined mess, but the shurl sat on her tattoo bench as though waiting for them.

“My hawk brings friends,” she sang happily as she jumped off the table and came over. Xander might have protested as she took Willow’s now unconscious body, but he needed someone else to make the decisions right now; he’d done his best and he knew it just wasn’t enough. He backed away and bumped into Tara who stood behind him. She couldn’t talk, but Xander imagined he could see horror and pain and anger in those wide eyes, and he didn’t blame her.

“Hawk lost his talons,” the shurl said disapprovingly as she came back to take the magical knives from Tara. Xander wondered why she bothered; he wouldn’t ever touch them again. Xander slowly sank to his knees and leaned against the inner wall of the booth as he chanted “Not again, not like Jesse, not again” as if the universe cared about his wants and his pain. Part of him made the excuse that the air was cleaner down here, but Xander knew that he didn’t ever want to get up again. He didn’t even care who found him because he just couldn’t move. Xander watched as the shurl demon gestured over Willow. She didn’t use the cream but instead pulled the blanket away to reveal the bloody mess below and then poured a thick yellow substance over Willow.

Xander started as a hand touched his hair, and he looked up to find Spike gazing down on him; Xander just scooted forward as Spike knelt down so that he could bury his face in Spike’s lap and cry. He could feel the magic in the room, but he could also see the pained and twisted expression on the shurl’s face. It wasn’t working, and Xander didn’t want to see the final moments. A hand rubbed his back causing his back chains to slide over his skin, and Xander clutched the leg under him as the sobs now came.

“What happened?” Xander heard Angel’s voice, and he wondered how the universe could hate one person so much. Would everyone be here to watch Willow die—to see how he’d killed her?

“Good lord,” another familiar voice answered, and yep, the universe had completed its mission. Xander held on to Spike tighter.

“Xander saved us,” offered a female voice without the usual stutter but with a definite slur that suggested a seriously sore mouth. Xander considered Tara’s wording—he considered Tara’s lie. “The fire?”

“Angel brought smoke bombs,” Giles said distractedly. “Is Willow going to be…” Giles let his voice trail off, and Xander turned his head so that his cheek rested on Spike’s thigh. Giles was wrapped in Spike’s duster, and Xander tried not to stare at the unexpected sight of Giles wearing leather, with beard stubble and red skin where the gag had irritated his face.

He moved his eyes over to the tattooing bench where the shurl still worked her hands over a body that now twitched. Twitching was good. Twitching was very good, Xander thought as he watched Willow start to move. Angel walked over and used the silver knife to flick through the straps of the leather bridle and pull the bit out before Willow could wake, and he almost didn’t make it as her eyes opened before Angel could step back.

Willow’s first reaction was to squeal and grab for her blanket. Her second reaction was a resounding, “EEUWWWW.” Xander choked out another sob as he realized that she was safe.

“Shhh, pet. It’s alright.” Spike continued rubbing his back comfortingly, and Xander resigned himself to the fact that now they all knew just how pathetic he could be.

“Oh Xander, goddess, I thought we’d lost you.” Willow got up from the chair and came over and knelt down, bloody blanket and all. She reached up to touch his face, and Xander cupped his own hand over hers so that she couldn’t let go. They stared at each other, both with eyes full of tears.

“I thought I’d killed you,” Xander whispered.

“You saved us,” Willow said and Xander choked on another sob. “We would have been taken by one of those demons and you defended us. If you hadn’t stabbed them...” Willow shuddered and looked over to Tara.

“He cut us loose and he s-stabbed these demons who came at us, even a Recul demon.” Xander wondered which demon that was, but the gasp from Giles suggested Reculs were especially tough, so maybe the thick-necked guy.

“But I stabbed you,” Xander protested.

“The demon threw me at you; you couldn’t have stopped,” Willow said, her hand still cupped against his wet cheek. Spike started standing and Xander found himself without a lap to hide in as Spike pulled him to his feet. Willow stood up and stepped back, and Xander could tell from her expression that she was trying to make sense of Spike’s comforting words and Spike’s protective embrace. Something had changed, only she couldn’t seem to process the what or the how.

“I saw you were goin’ for the girls, and I trusted you to take care of ‘em while I got Giles. You cut them down, right?”

“Yes, Master,” Xander agreed. His sins had come later.

“Did ya fight to protect them?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Did you chase the slavers away?” Xander thought hard about that one but he did eventually have to agree.

“Yes, Master.”

“Did you remember the shurl’s healing powers?”

“Eventually, Master,” Xander answered as he thought of pressing his hand into Willow’s stomach as he tried to stop the bleeding, instead he’d only hurt her more.

“The answer is yes, pet,” Spike warned him in a tone that suggested swats if he didn’t answer straight.

“Yes, Master,” Xander corrected himself, not really wanting to get spanked in front of everyone he knew…everyone he knew, plus one unflappable shurl demon. The air was starting to clear and she was calmly packing her equipment as if the auction hadn’t just been raided and set on fire.

“Did you get Willow here?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Pet, look at me.” Xander looked up into Spike’s blue eyes and he could see his Master’s determination. “Hirset wanted to hurt the Watcher because I’d claimed him. Findin’ him out there alone meant he’d either escaped or I turned him out, and Hirset wanted me to make my claim so that he could kill Giles and put me in my place. I had to get there and stop him, and I trusted you to take care of the girls. I made a promise to Buffy, and I trusted you to keep that promise for me.”

“You fought bravely, and you managed to save the girls, for which I am eternally grateful,” Giles added even as he clutched the leather coat around himself. “While I certainly still have my doubts about Spike’s motives, I do know that what you went through in the several months is beyond my understanding.” Xander felt his heart unknot at the realization that Giles wouldn’t try to fight Spike. Xander looked over to Angel to see if he would offer some words of support. Instead Angel concentrated on the two knives that he held—Xander’s knives.

“Give those here,” Spike demanded as he held out a hand to Angel. Angel turned over the knives carefully. Spike turned his back on his sire, and raised a questioning brow at Xander. “Lost something, pet?”

“Hawks are excellent hunters,” the shurl chipped in at that point as she examined a brush with the concentration of an appraiser studying a piece of art. Xander wondered what the brush had done to deserve such attention.

“You gave *Xander* solluna knives?” Angel demanded as Xander reached out and touched a beautiful blade.

“Bloody right. Like the lady said, a hawk has to have talons; they’re fighters.” Xander didn’t object as Spike slipped the knives back into their scabbards.

“A hawk?” Giles asked, and Xander stepped out from behind Spike—mostly naked, decorated, and armed. He looked right at Giles and proudly ran his thumb over the tattoo. He might not be the hawk yet, but it was in him and he trusted Spike to help him find that part of himself.

“What…?” Giles stepped forward squinting and the shurl suddenly appeared between them.

“Only truths, I mark. I see, he sees, now you see too.” She pointed a finger at Giles and then went back to packing equipment, leaving Giles looking a little more pale and shaky.

“Indeed, shurl truth marks, quite a stupid thing to risk.” And yep, there was the fatherly Giles that Xander knew and loved, complaining about his kids.

“It’s time for us to leave before these slavers can rally a counterattack,” Angel insisted, and Xander suspected that the older vampire just wanted Giles away from Spike before their truce disintegrated. Angel herded the girls and Giles out, but Xander didn’t move. Willow’s head reappeared in the doorway.

“Xander, come on,” Willow insisted. Xander looked over to Spike.

“We have our own way out, Red. You and Glinda go along with the pouf.” Willow stood unmoving as she looked from one to the other.

“Xander, you don’t have to stay here,” she said carefully, and Xander could hear all the unspoken accusations. He didn’t answer because he didn’t even know how to answer.

“Xan’s with me, Red.”

“You can’t speak for him,” Willow sharply answered; the shurl demon clucked in either amusement or disapproval.

“He does speak for me, Wills,” Xander said softly as he looked first at the ground in distress and then finally at Willow. She needed to see his determination. Spike was his Master, and he wasn’t going to apologize or make excuses.

“Come home with us, Xander; we’ll figure this out.” Xander looked in her eyes and saw a softer, gentler version of Giles’ mistake. She wanted to be the one to ‘fix’ him, only her version of ‘fixing’ would include trying to turn him back into Droopy Harris, and that’s not who he was anymore.

“I’ve already figured this out, Wills. I don’t belong with you any more, and I can’t go with you. I’m sorry.” Willow appeared to be on the verge of either tears or screaming when Tara appeared and slipped a hand around Willow’s waist.

“He’s not our Xander,” Tara said softly with a sad smile for Xander, and Xander looked at Tara in surprise. Willow fairly sputtered her surprise as she tried to form a dozen different words at once, but Tara simply continued.

“His aura, it isn’t Xander, or it isn’t the same Xander; it’s someone new with some of the same patterns, but new colors and new patterns beside the old ones. We have to leave now.” Xander watched as Willow looked from Tara to Xander and then finally let herself be pulled away from the door. Tara glanced back with one final smile even as she walked out, and Spike followed as far as the garbage strewn hallway, Xander close at heel.

“Glinda, Red?” Spike called, and the witches as well as Angel and Giles turned. At the far end of the hall, Xander could see people gathered, a black man handing out blankets as makeshift clothing. “Doesn’t mean you can’t get to know each other again.” Xander watched as both disappointment and hope crossed Willow’s face. He really could still remember all the moments of their life together, he just knew he wouldn’t do the things Droopy Harris had once done. He wasn’t the person whose memories he possessed, but then his Master had the same conundrum—his Master was William the Poet and William the Bloody and Spike and his Master. It made Xander feel downright sane. The others turned to leave without comment, and Xander stepped forward so that he was next to his now coatless master. He slipped to his knees and leaned in, and Spike’s hand found his hair and petted him as they watched the others walk away.

“Right, time ta leave before the lackwits show up again,” Spike said as he sniffed disapprovingly and headed for one of those ubiquitous side hallways. Xander stood with a smile. He almost hoped the lackwits did show up because he and his Master would show them a thing or two about training a slave. Xan rested the palms of his hands on the knife handles his Master had taught him to use as he swung his hip chains and followed at heel behind his Master.

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