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

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

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

Giles shares a sheepish glance with the others. “Yes,
we’re going to lie; shamelessly.”

Liam stares at the blush on the dignified man’s face and
bites back a chuckle. “Well okay then.”

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

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

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

“It won’t happen all at once?” Liam asks surprised.

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

“Why does she think you all are coming here tonight?
Won’t she be suspicious?” Liam asks.

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

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

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

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

“I’m alright Liam, you can go inside. Buffy could probably
use your support.” Spike says gruffly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s almost done.” Spike says tilting his head towards
the house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Eight

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

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

“Giles, will you need us?” Spike calls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As long as you don’t sing Mate, we’ll be fine.” Spike
retorts with a chuckle.

“Oh, that’s very funny Wil.” Liam growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As I need you more

You know you're my once in a
lifetime

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

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