Sentences in italics indicate remembered conversations. Words with ' ' indicate thoughts.
*****

Xander hated the fact that he was saddled with Spike again. Spike of all people, or not-people, as the case may be. Buffy and the girls might have forgiven him, but he sure as hell hadn't. All that fucking Spike had to do was go and get himself a soul and all of his girls were fawning all over him again.   

Xander lifted his beer and took another long swallow. 'Last of this bottle. That makes what, four? Dear old Dad could finish off two six packs before bedtime. Must not be up to his standards yet.' Anya hated when he drank. Even one beer was two much for her. Said that she didn't want him to be like his father. 'That's a laugh. At least Dad could hold on to his woman. Well, bitch ain't here anymore. Guess I don't have to listen to her harping at me all the time.'   

The front door opened behind him and Spike walked in, head down and hunched over. He moved silently to the refrigerator and stored his blood in the bottom crisper. The one that Xander declared as his. Said he didn't want blood packs all over the fridge, didn't even want to remember what his roommate was. As the saying goes, out of sight out of mind. It wasn't very much, just three bags. He was still thin, but since he's gotten away from the basement and the Hellmouth, he'd gained a little weight.   

Spike was trying hard to be a good roommate this time. To stay out of Harris's way and not make trouble. He hoped that he was succeeding. He could smell the hatred that poured off of the tall brunet in choking waves. He figured that if he just stayed out of his way, didn't make a nuisance of himself like the last time, then the hatred might go away. Or might not. He didn't even bother to trade insults with him now. The guilt he felt from the soul didn't let him enjoy it any more. So, he took whatever verbal slings came his way and tried to stay invisible.   

"Guess even mongrels haveta come home sometimes, huh Spike?" The voice was bitter and more then a little slurred. Spike flinched as if he had been hit and said nothing.   

"What? No witty comeback? I'm shocked! By the way, where did you get the money for the blood? If you're holding out on me, you might as well start paying rent."   

"Got a job tutoring. Not much money, but what's left over, you can have it for rent."   

"What's the subject? How to be a worthless fuck up?"   

"Latin. I'm tutoring in Latin."   

The silence stretched. Xander felt more anger building up. 'Latin. Who the fuck wants to learn Latin? I don't know fucking Latin.' Not that he was really interested, but he asked anyway, "Who're you teaching?"   

"Red." Came the simple answer.   

Now Xander was getting angrier. 'Willow! He's going after another one of my girls.'   

"In case you've gotten extra stupid, Willow's into girls, so you can just put your dick back in your pants, hotshot!"   

Spike flinched again. He tried to placate the angry young man. "It's not like that. It's just tutoring, honest. Nothing more than that. Just enough to pay for some blood, that's all."   

Now Xander was fed up. He felt that Spike was trying to play him. He had fucked Buffy and Anya, now he was after Willow. Who's next? Dawn? Someone had to protect his girls from that freak. He didn't remember when he got up but he suddenly found himself standing in front of the smaller blond.   

The right cross caught Spike completely off guard. He felt the swelling on his cheekbone. "Guess I deserved that one, huh?"   

That just seemed to piss Xander off more. He didn't say a thing as he began to hit the smaller man again and again. Spike tried to protect himself, but one arm accidentally struck Xander in the stomach, setting off his chip. The pain in his head drove him to his knees. Xander's fists kept him there. Xander never felt such anger before. When his hands started to ache, he used his feet. A few more kicks to fragile ribs ended the attack. He didn't say a word when he left the unconscious and bleeding vampire lying on the living room floor and went to bed.   

It was several hours before Spike awoken. God! Everything hurt! He was pretty sure that most of his ribs were broken. He just figured that he was lucky that one hadn't pierced his heart. His left leg felt broken, but after testing it some, only found it to be badly fractured. His face was swollen, he was pretty sure that his nose was broken. Everything felt broken and tender. He managed to drag himself to his small bedroom, all right, closet, and crawled onto his hard bed. He lay there, trying to ride out the waves of pain, trying to make sense of the attack. Just when he'd worked out that he didn't deserve the beating, Dru showed up. Oh, shit! Not again. He finally thought that they would leave him alone; getting out of the Hellmouth basement seemed to do it. Well, it seemed that they followed him.   

"My poor, poor baby. You deserved it you know. You've been very, very naughty. Miss Edith said so. She told me how naughty you've been. Getting a soul for the slayer. Bad, bad man, you've been. The stars cried when that nasty soul got you. Now you've upset the dark kitten. Wicked and bad. That's what you are."   

Spike stared bleary eyed at her, trying to follow what she said. He had given up long ago, in that school basement, of trying to make sense of what his dark princess meant. He had also given up long ago of talking to the ghosts who visited him. No amount of pleading and begging seemed to make any difference, so he just let their anger wash over him.   

"You should listen to the dark kitten. He's very, very angry with you, you know. The stars sing of his anger. You should do what he says. You're pretty face isn't so pretty anymore."   

Dru went away and the others came. All saying the same thing. He deserved it. Didn't deserve any kindness for what he did. He was a bad, bad man. Wicked and cruel. Do what Xander said and the anger will go away. He fell asleep with that phase running through his mind. 'Do what he says. Do what he says.'   

Xander woke up to the blaring of the alarm clock. Shit, he felt like something furry and foul died in his mouth. His head throbbed and he recognized the affects of too much drinking. He wondered exactly what happened. Stumbling to the bathroom, he gave a disinterested glance at a stain on the living room floor. Halfway though his hot shower, the images came flooding into his muddled brain. Instead of shocking or disgusting him with the senseless violence, he felt vindicated. He was just protecting his girls, that's all. Just protecting his girls. They needed protecting from scum like that. If he didn't take care of them, no one else would. Even though Buffy was the slayer, clearly her judgement was impaired. After all, she did sleep with that ... that thing that's living here with him now. Suddenly, he was glad that Spike was here. Now he could keep his eye on him. Make sure he didn't make any more moves on one of his girls.   

He quickly dried himself and dressed for work. Grabbing his lunch from the fridge, he decided to check up on his roommate, just to make sure that he was still there. Not that he cared how badly he was beaten, he deserved it after all, but just in case he decided to bolt for some hiding place. He didn't even bother to knock, it was his place after all, and looked at the still unconscious blond.   

He was a mess. Curled up tightly on his side, Xander had a good view of his battered face. Both eyes were almost swollen shut, broken nose, bruises dotted his face and forearms. He briefly wondered how many ribs he broke, but really didn't care. He left for work, already planning how he was going to take care of his girls.   

Xander came home from work, whistling a little tune he'd heard on the radio. He checked on Spike, still not bothering to knock. Still in the same position. Walking into the kitchen, he started his dinner. Well, all he really did was microwave a t-v dinner. Well, with his new plan put into action, that crap would become a thing of the past. As well as any other chores around the house.   

Spike walked into the living room halfway though his second beer. Most of his internal injuries were already healed, although being as underweight as he still was, all of his bruises prominently showed. He hovered near the kitchen doorway, uncertain what his reception would be. He decided to listen to the voices. If he just did as Xander told him, maybe he wouldn't hate him so much anymore. Maybe the guilt about how he treated the boy in the past would ease up some. Xander looked at him and he flinched. Yep, hate still there.   

Xander looked over the now timid blond. He secretly enjoyed it when he flinched. He liked seeing the bruises on the pale body. It made him feel powerful; not something that he felt very often around Buffy and Willow. To know that he brought fear to William the Bloody was a powerful aphrodisiac.   

Xander addressed the bowed blond head. "I want you to call Willow tomorrow and cancel your 'tutoring' lessons. I don't want you to see or talk to any of the girls for now on. You're to stay away from them. If you do run into them, make your excuses and leave. You don't want to upset me any more than you already have. Is any of this getting though that thick skull of yours, yet?"   

"I-I need money for blood, Xander. What do I do for money, if I stop teaching? It's not as if I can get a regular job, ya' know?"   

The closed fist backhanded him, knocking him to the floor again. Spike didn't look up, instinctively knowing that to do so would bring more pain.   

"Don't you ever sass me! Do you hear me?! Ever! You don't want to upset me, now do you?" The bowed blond head shook his head no. "Good! We understand each other then. I'll buy your blood for now on. In return, I expect you to earn your keep around here. Keep the place clean and a hot meal on the table when I get home from work. Stay away from my girls and everything will be fine. Are you following along, now? No trouble understanding English?"   

Spike nodded and shook his head again. He understood. He understood perfectly. Just do what he wanted and everything would be fine.   

Xander left the vampire lying on the floor. Half way to his bedroom to change clothes, he paused and called over his shoulder. "Oh, Spike? If you even dream of telling someone about this it'll be the last thing you'll ever do. And I'll make extra sure that it'll be as slow and as painful as possible. Who do you think they'll believe any way? Me? Their best friend? Or you? An evil demon who tried to rape one of them? You might have gotten a soul, but you're still the same worthless sonofabitch that you always were before." And with that, he left the room.   

Spike pulled himself into a hunched sitting position just as his first visitor showed up. 'Oh goody. It's that slimy Mayor Wilkinson. The only politician that was truly a snake in the grass. Pun definitely intended.'   

The former demon mayor crouched down in front of him. "Well, well, well, Billy Boy. Got yourself in a real pickle this time, didn't you? Now, now, no vulgarity. The boy might hear you. He's too young to hear such rough and crude language. A young man like him hasn't been around as long as you and I. We must be considerate of his impressionable age. Now, to get down to business, as it were. You've been a bad, bad boy, bucko. It was kinda fun to watch you work. Until you got your soul back, that is. Now you're just the same sad, pathetic loser that you were before you were turned. I had high hopes for you, my boy. High hopes indeed. Now you've gone down the toilet, to use a crude phase. Com-plete-ly flushed. Now you have to be on your best behavior. Because if He throws you out, where are you going to go? No friends, no sweetheart, no place to go. Well, you could take a nice afternoon stroll in the park. But, no. The soul won't let you kill yourself, will it? Men of your era believe that suicide will send that nice shiny soul straight to h - e - double hockey sticks. Not a nice place to be, let me tell you. Full of bad things and rough, rough characters. Not a good place for a nice looking young man like yourself. No matter how much of a big bad you used to be, you'll be nothing down there. Nothing. Bad, bad things happen to little pretty ones like you. So don't upset him anymore. Don't risk your soul to a foul place like that. I'm only saying these things to protect you. The youth is the future, I always used to say. Keep him happy and you'll do fine. Okey dokey?"   

Spike just nodded, for all the good that it would do. The others came to take his place and followed him into the bedroom.   

***** 

When he was certain that Harris had left for work the next day, he crept into the living room to use the phone before he finally went to sleep. Being a creature of the night, he didn't sleep like the humans did. He had stayed awake in his small room, listening to all the voices. Cursing him, railing at him, mocking him. He was tired and ready to get what little sleep he could before the nightmares visited him in his dreams. Besides, he had chores to do and a meal to cook. Thank the God he didn't really believe in anymore, that the witches taught him how to cook when he was staying with the 'Bit during the months that Buffy was gone. Gone, not dead. His heart refused to use that word.   

Picking up the handset, he dialed the Summers' home. He knew that the 'Bit and the Slayer were at school by this time. It was still awkward to speak to either one of them. Especially the 'Lil Bit'. She was still cold to him, not that he blamed her, but it still hurt.   

"Summers and Rosenberg's residence. Willow speaking."   

"When did you get so formal, Red? Sounds like I just rung up the bloody palace, you know." Spike knew that he sounded a little off to himself. He just hoped that Red wouldn't catch on.   

"Spike! How are you? I finished that homework you gave me last night. I think that I got those verbs right this time. The pronouns are still giving me trouble though. We'll have to work extra hard on those today. When do you want me there? Who knew that you were such a little taskmaster in Latin? Must have been those old English schools you went to. Although, I guess that they weren't old when you went there. Or, maybe they were. Everything in England is old. I remember thinking that when I was there with Giles. The country, not Giles! Oh, goddess, don't tell him that the next time you speak to him! So, everything set?"   

God, how he would miss Willow babble. He would rather listen to her ramble on and on then the others that visited him at odd times of the day and night. At least she was real. So far. But, a promise was a promise. Even one made under threats.   

"Uumm, about that, Red? I have to cancel the lesson today. I'm sorry. I really am."   

"Oh. Well, how about tomorrow? Is tomorrow good?"   

Bloody hell, she sounds disappointed. He hated to disappoint her. It didn't used to bother him. The only ones he hated to disappoint was 'Lil Bit and Slayer and look how that turned out. But there was no way out. Hopefully he could pull this off. Maybe.   

"No go, Red. You see, I-I found a night job. As a ... a security guard down by the warehouse district. Going to have a regular paying gig and all. Real respectable work, you know. I'll be too tired to teach during the day and too busy at night. Have to get my proper rest and all. Have to have the proper energy to keep watch over other people's property. Not that I wasn't grateful for the help, money wise from you, it's just that now I can help out with the rent more. I hope that you don't hate me now. I'll understand if you never want anything to do with me."   

"No! Of course I don't hate you! It's ok if you want a regular paying job. I think it's great that you want to help out with the rent! I really do! Who woulda thunk the Big Bad with a job? A job with a uniform! You know, if I was still straight, I could go for a guy in a uniform. You know, one time me and Tara had some handcuffs and ..." her voice held sadness at the mention of Tara, but she gamely went on "... uh, never mind. Oh! I know! Maybe I could come out to see you! You know, just to check out the working guy. Check out the uniform. How 'bout that? Do you get a badge? Did you say "We don't need no stinkin' badges" like that guy did in that movie? Or did you just say, "I" because, you know, being one person and all? When do you start? Maybe me and Buffy can do some extra patrolling out that way. How's that sound?"   

The grin that started out when Red began the story of her and Glinda faded quickly when she wanted to see him in his 'new job'. Oh bloody hell! How the fuck can he get out of this? 'Think fast Spike! Think fast!'   

"Uh, no can do, Red. They won't let us have visitors down there. You know, security reasons. If they even think that a rule is broken, it's my job. Besides, I'll be on probation," in more ways then one, " and I want to do a good job. I-I hope that you can understand that. I'd love to have you visit me, but it's too risky."   

"Oh, of course I understand! Don't worry about that. Besides, when you have some extra cash later, and on your night off, you can take us all out to celebrate! That sounds like fun, doesn't it? But not to put a downer on it, but what are you gonna do if the burglars are human? Remember, you can't even point a gun at a human. What will you do? Maybe you should get another job. One that doesn't have potential violence against humans."   

'Think, man, think!' "Oh, don't worry about that. We don't get guns. Just pepper spray. By the time those wankers recover from a face full of that stuff, my migraine'll be long gone. Besides, I'll have a partner so it's not like I'll be all alone. Ok, mother?"   

Willow laughed at that and they chatted a few more minutes before she had to go. Spike knew that she would be the only one that he'd need to worry bout questioning his sudden attack of shyness. The mood between himself and the Summers girls guaranteed that they wouldn't miss him all that much. Sad but true.   

Fixing himself a mug of blood, Spike started a list of things to accomplish that day. It wasn't long. The apartment was still relatively clean from the day before and only needed a little picking up. Taking out some hamburger meat to thaw, he got to work.   

He was doing fine until he cleaned the bathroom. Suddenly visions of a small blond girl, crying, shook him to the core. He found himself over the toilet, vomiting what little blood he'd already had. Shit, this never happened before at Harris's place. Nightmares, sure. Had plenty of those to go around. But nothing like this. Not this flash of terror, this fear of a small room that had nothing to do with anyone else. Still shaking, he quickly cleaned up and crawled back to his bed. Maybe he just needed a little sleep. Just a little rest and he'll be good as new.   

*****   

Xander whistled as he let himself in. Looking around, he noticed that the place was clean. Really clean. Congratulating himself on his idea, he walked into the kitchen area, already anticipating a hot dinner. Nothing but some raw meat in the sink. Anger flowed though him. He'd warned him. He really did. Now he was upset. Now Spike was going to pay for that. Stalking over to the bedroom, he yanked open the door. Fucking freeloader was asleep. That'll change. Reaching down, he grabbed the sleeping man and threw him against the wall.   

One minute Spike was asleep, another minute he was flying though the air and hitting a wall. The blow stunned him. The only thing that he could do to protect himself was to curl into as tight a ball as he could. That didn't deter the angry man.   

"I told you.." punch in the head "to cook dinner..." kick in the thigh "by the time..." kick in the ribs..."I get home." Breaking the ankle by stomping on it with heavy work boots. "Where is my dinner?!" Lifting the head by the hair, he slammed it against the wall. Blood smeared it.   

Shaking from the attack, Spike stared blurredly up at him. He'd fell asleep, too exhausted from the panic attack in the bathroom to be bothered about nightmares. He'd completely slept through the alarm clock that he'd set to wake him up in time to cook. Now Xander was angry. Forget anger. Xander was pissed. And this time, it was all his fault. After all, he did agree to make sure that a meal was waiting for him when he came home.   

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, Xander. I f-f-fell asleep."   

" "I-I-I'm s-sorry, Xander. I f-f-fell asleep. " " Xander mocked him. "You fell asleep and I worked hard all day. Worked to help support your pathetic dead ass. And this is the thanks I get? You fell asleep? Sorry asshole. That's not gonna cut it. I'll let you off easy this time. Next time will make this seem like a walk in the park. I'm gonna get cleaned up and go over to Buffy's. I'll eat there tonight. I'll expect better from you next time. Or else. By the way, I never want to hear my name from your lips ever again. You have to talk to me, you call me Sir. You get that?"   

Spike slowly nodded, head down, the pain coursing though his body in waves. He wasn't happy with just that though. Grabbing him by the hair again, he forced him to look him in the eyes. Shaking the blood smeared blond head, he demanded, "Answer me, asshole."   

"Ye-yes S-s-s-sir. Yes Sir."   

Finally satisfied, he left the beaten man to lie in his own blood and went to shower and change. He walked out the door just as Spike curled himself into a small ball and let the darkness take him away again. His last thoughts were how the bloody hell did he get into this mess and if he could ever get out of it.    

*****

TBC