TITLE:  Dreams of Evil 
AUTHOR:  Tienco (tienco@msn.com)
COUPLE: X/A and W/S
RATING:  R for now. . .NC-17 later, if I can get my smut muse to play. . .
DISTRIBUTION:  My site!!  www.oocities.org/tienco_21 and various lists.
Ask if you want it, I'll let you have it.  Oh, Kylia, and Jai can always
have it. . .if I've given you permission for something else, you are welcome
to this.
DISCLAIMER:  All belongs to Joss Whedon.  Gosh, I wish I were Joss.  I'd
have such a good time with Spike. . .and Angel. . .and Xander. . .and
Graham. . . and Lindsey. . .throw Willow and Faith in there and it's a
party!!
FEEDBACK:  Of *course*.  Makes me write more.
SPOILERS:  Let's just say as a whole, anything in the last four seasons, and
first season of Angel
SUMMARY:  A terrible tragedy happens in LA. . .nothing is as what it seems.
. .
NOTES:  This takes place about a year from now, I think. . .
DEDICATION:  To Jennifer, cause it gave her the shivers. . .

*~*~*~*

When a door closes, a window opens.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Don't you just hate clichés?  I always have.  Half the time, they don't
really apply to whatever it is that you are talking about, but. . .there are
occasions that they do.  'When a door closes, a window opens.'  Oh, and
'Carpe Diem.'  That one is Will's favorite.  She still uses it sometimes.
Except for now she giggles and says Carpe Vampy.  Seize the Vampire.

It's a good motto to live by. . .

*~*~*~*

Anya was gone.  She up and left.  She was crying, babbling about I didn't
love her enough, I just wanted her for sex, needed more in the relationship,
didn't want to get to the point where she hated me enough to wish vengeance
on me. . .

I think she was secretly seeing someone else.

I didn't care though.  My dreams were plagued with *him*.  I haven't thought
about him in a while now, I guess three years.  They used to fill my mind,
images of blood and death, fangs and evil smiles. . .he'd tie me down, tell
me that I was his, and I would love it, I would beg for more, I would be
rock hard.

When Willow gave Angelus back the soul, and Buffy sent him to hell, the
dreams stopped.  That got me wondering. . .was Angelus back?

No, there's no way.  If Angelus were back, we would know.  We would be dead
now.

Maybe Anya leaving triggered the dreams.  They didn't start up until she
left. . .

*~*~*~*

"I don't get it, Wills," I told Willow, sitting on her couch.  I covered my
face with my hands.

She glanced up at me, from her place on Spike's lap.  They were together,
dating, in love, living together.  All of that stuff.  They were happy.  She
curbed his anger, he made her more daring, they complimented each other in a
way no one has ever complimented them.

"Get what, mate?" Spike piped up.  We had become pretty good friends since
he and Willow started dating.  Buffy had a major problem with it, but then,
it was probably because she was jealous that Willow could have her vamp, but
the Slayer couldn't have hers. . .

"Why can't I have a decent relationship?  And why am I having those damn
dreams again?"

Willow looked up at me with wide eyes.  "You are having the dreams?" she
whispered.  She was the only person I ever told about my dreams.

I nodded.

"Do you think. . ."

"We'd be dead, Wills.  You know that.  He'd kill the Slayer, kill me, fuck
you, and probably kill Spike," I answered.

"What are you two bloody talking about?" Spike growled.

"Angelus," I said softly.  "I'm dreaming about him.  I don't dream about him
when he has a soul.  I dreamed about him a *lot* when he was here last time.
. ."

"No," Spike growled.  "Angelus is not back.  I would know if he were.  He
would let me know.  How long have you had the bloody dreams?"

"About a week," I said softly.

Spike opened his mouth to say something and the phone rang.  I had one of
those weird feelings pass through me, you know, the kind of feeling where
you *know* something bad was going to happen?  I could hear the horror music
getting louder and louder in my head.  "Someone's dead," I said softly.

Willow frowned at me, then answered the phone.  "Hello?"

I could hear sobbing through the phone, and my heart sunk.  I reached over,
taking the phone from Willow.  "Hello?"

"Xan. . .Xander. . ."  It was Angel.

"Cordelia," I whispered.  I knew.  Somehow, I knew it was the first love of
my life.  And somehow, I knew Angelus killed her.

Sometimes, I curse the insight I had at that moment.  Not too often, but
every once in a while.

"And. . ."  He sobbed.  "Wesley."

"Did you do it?" I asked softly.

"Xander Harris!  How dare you think I would *kill* my family!" he exclaimed,
his voice filled with horror and shock.

It was an act.  A very good one, but I knew that it was an act.  So I was
talking to *Angelus* and not *Angel*.  "When are the funerals?"

"Tom. . .tomorrow evening."

"Spike and Willow, should they come?" I asked, fidgeting with the pillow.
Part of me wanted them to be there, so I wouldn't be alone with him; but
then part of me didn't want them there because I didn't know what he'd do to
them.

"Yea," Angel replied after a sobbing pause.  "It. . .it would be nice to
have my childe around."

I turned my head, so Willow and Spike couldn't necessarily hear what I was
saying.  "Goodbye, Angelus," I whispered.

He quieted, still sniffing slightly.  "You really know."

"I do," I replied.  "I've been dreaming off you."

"Tomorrow night, Harris."

I felt a chill go down my spine.  It was our final confrontation, tomorrow
night.  "Right.  Tomorrow night," I agreed.  I turned, hanging up the phone.
I started to chew my bottom lip.

"Cordelia and Wesley?" Willow asked softly, tears filling her eyes.  She
took my hands, knowing I would be upset.  And I was.  I was aching because
Cordelia wouldn't be around to insult me anymore.

But that's not why I had tears in my eyes.

I didn't know if it was a dream come true, or a nightmare come to life.

I couldn't tell them.  Not yet.  I didn't know how he would react.  It was
obvious that he wanted them to think he was Angel, or he would have just
sent a note, or a body part.  I nodded my head, turning slightly.  Tears
fell down my cheeks.  I was scared.  Terrified.

And oddly enough, sporting an erection.  Go figure.

*~*~*~*

It rained.  That's what I remember the most about Cordelia and Wesley's
funeral.  It was raining.  It never rained in LA.  I could just hear
Cordelia's haughty voice, "It's my *damn* funeral, and it has to *rain*?
Damn!  The two hours of the whole year it rains and it has to be my
funeral!?"

I thought it added to the ambiance.  Gloomy, dark, cold. . .chilling you to
the bone.

I could see the glint in Angelus' eye.  He was happy, so very happy.  I
found myself watching him.  He was sitting up front, eyes forward, acting
like the upset older brother.  He was doing a great job at faking it.  Even
Spike hadn't realized that it was his Sire.  I guess it had been too long
since he felt the vampire without a soul.

Willow was horrified.  Wesley and Cordelia, who had started dating a few
months before, rest their souls, told Angel they were going out to grab a
bite to eat, and they'd be back.  Angel got wrapped up in his ancient books,
trying to figure out what was going on with some case or the other, and didn
't realize until about six hours later they were still gone.  I guess when
you have an eternity, a few hours could pass and you don't realize.

Anyway, he went searching for them, and found the two bodies in the alley
behind the restaurant they were supposed to be eating at.  There were two
perfect little holes in their necks; they had been drained.  Angelus played
the guilt up, saying that it was probably all his fault because they worked
with him.  He even had Spike feeling bad for him.

It was an open casket funeral.  I stood beside Cordelia's casket, brushing
her hair with my fingers.  Even in death, Cordelia Chase was beautiful.  I
leaned down and kissed her forehead.  "I always did love you, Cordelia.  I'm
so very sorry I hurt you," I said softly.

I felt him when he came up behind me.  He always makes my skin crawl at
first, little jolts of electricity traveling over my flesh.  It wasn't a bad
feeling.  It always made me stand taller, made me jump to erectness quicker.

Angel never did that to me.

Only Angelus.

"Did she. . .did she taste like you would expect?" I asked softly.

He looked at me with surprise.  "Why, Alexander!" he mocked me.  "What makes
you think it was me?"

I leaned over the casket, brushing my fingers over the faint bites.  "Any
vampire off the street would have ripped into her neck.  You have more class
than that."  I straightened, turning to him.  "Did she find out?  Is that
why you did it?"

A slow smile spread on his lips, his brown eyes dancing with joy.  "You are
smarter than they give you credit for, Alexander."

"Don't hurt Willow or Spike."

His eyebrow rose, I imagine he was shocked at my request.  "Whatever do you
mean?"

"Willow is my best friend.  I will brutally torture you if you hurt her.  I
don't know what kind of relationship you have with your childe, and frankly,
I don't really care.  But if you hurt him, you hurt her, and again, I
brutally torture you.  Other than that. . ."  I shrugged.  "Have at it.  Do
what you want."

"You aren't going to stop me?  Tell the Slayer?"

"If the Slayer was smart, she'd figure it out.  She doesn't even know
Cordelia and Wesley are dead," I replied.  I sighed, turning to Willow and
Spike, who were walking up to the casket.  Willow wrapped her arms around
me, clinging to me like I was her lifeline.  She cried for Cordelia, and
Wesley.  Little did I know she was crying for Angel's soul too.

"Peaches," Spike nodded.  "What now?"

"What indeed," Angelus spared a brief smile before going back to Brood-Face.
"I think we should go have dinner."

Spike narrowed his eyes, pulling Willow out of my arms and into his.  It was
at that moment that I knew that Spike knew.  "Willow is mine, Peaches."

He cocked his head with a grin.  "What?  You think I would take your Red
away from you, Childe?"

Spike growled low and deep.  "Of course you would, Angelus.  It never
stopped you before."

"No," Angelus replied, his eyes settling on me.  His words made me feel
lightheaded.  "I have what I want.  I don't need Willow.  I'll be properly
entertained."

Spike shifted nervously.  "So what does this mean, Angelus?"

Angelus turned dark eyes to his childe.  "What do you mean, Spike?  How
would things change now?"  His voice was so very silky smooth.  I resisted
the urge to close my eyes and lose myself in it. . .it would have been so
easy to do that, just allow his voice to wash over me, carry me away. . .

I felt a warm hand on my arm, closing around it.  I opened my eyes to be
staring into Willow's big green eyes.  "Stay with me, Xander," she
whispered.

She was scared.  I don't know why she was, she had Spike to protect her.  I
didn't have anyone to watch out for me.

"Come on, mate," Spike said.  "You are fucking Angelus.  You *live* for the
destruction.  And bloody hell if you aren't a bastard.  So what does this
mean?"  He pulled Willow closer.  "I'm serious why when I tell you that you
can't touch her.  You may think I'm just being possessive, but I *will*
stake you over her."

Angelus' lips curled into a sinister grin.  I had a quick flash of a dream I
had a few nights before.  I was lying on his bed, hands tied high above my
head.  He had this whip, like, a cat of nine tails, and it had the little
metal spikes at the tip of the strips, and he was wailing on me.  All over
my chest, my thighs. . .the only part of my body he wasn't hitting was my
dick, which of course, was rock hard.  I kept thrusting my hips up, begging
for his touch.

He leaned down over me, smiled that very grin, and ran his tongue *all* over
my body, licking all the lines of blood.  His voice was steady, like a purr.
"You taste wonderful, Alexander, so sweet, so full of life and love. . .so
perfect for me to taint. . ."

I cried.  I remember that, I was crying.  Not that loud sobbing, begging
shit, but these big silent tears streaming down my face.  His tongue was all
over my body, and I just wanted him to touch my cock, make me cum.  That's
all he had to do, touch my cock.  I would have shot off forever for him.

He never did.

I woke up in literal pain.  I must have been hard the whole night, straining
against my boxers, begging for release.  And as I hunched over and hurriedly
jerked off to relieve the pain, I could hear his laughter in my mind,
surrounding me, suffocating me.

And I didn't want it to stop.

I think that's what scared me the most about all of this.  Angelus was back.
*Angelus*.  This is a vampire who's idea of a good time is sucking the whole
fucking world into *hell*.  And I didn't really want to do anything to
change that!

That made me a sick person, didn't it?

I tuned back in to hear Angelus' response.  "I know, William.  I know that
you love Willow.  I don't want to hurt her, and I don't want to hurt you."
I noticed he didn't say he didn't want to hurt me.  I licked my lips at the
thought.  "I want us to be a family.  Cordelia and Wesley, they were Soulboy
's family.  Since Soulboy was gone, I had to get rid of his family.  Not
very productive keeping around the ones who could bring him back, now is
there?"  His eyes settled on Willow.

She eeped and buried herself in Spike's embrace.

I narrowed my eyes.  "Deadboy," I said between clenched teeth.  "Don't you
*dare* think of hurting her."

He turned to me, his eyes dancing.  "I've already said I won't.  I just want
her to know not to try the Rom's curse."  He turned back to Spike and
Willow.  "I want my favorite childe back.  It's been so long, William, over
a century.  I miss that.  I miss you.  You have your mate, and I want mine."
His hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me to him.  He leaned down,
brushing his cool lips against my forehead.  "Tell them you are mine,
Alexander."

I turned to Willow and Spike, my eyes locking with my best friend's.  I
swallowed, knowing that as soon as I said those words, as soon as I said I
belonged to him, that I did, and would always belong to him.  For the rest
of my life.

"I belong to Angelus," I said softly.  I closed my eyes, feeling his fingers
run up and down my neck.  It was incredible, how soft his hands were, how
gentle his touch.  I automatically titled my head, so he could have better
access.  He leaned down, placing a kiss on my jugular.  My heart started
racing, pounding in my chest louder than I thought it ever has before.  My
blood was racing, away from my head, southwards, towards more intimate
areas.

I could feel myself getting hard, right there, next to the coffin that
contained my first love's body.  And I couldn't bring myself to feel bad, or
guilty about it.

"Not yet," he purred against my skin.  He ran his tongue over my jugular
again, moaning deep in the back of his throat.  "Taste so good, Alexander. .
.just wait, my pet.  Soon.  Soon I will claim you as mine."


*~*~*~*

"So how did you lose your soul?" I asked, sitting down on his bed.  I'd been
wondering.  I couldn't imagine him having sex with anyone. . .well, not the
souled version of the vampire standing in front of me.

His laughter was rich.  "He was such a fool.  He thought he would take down
a Sorcerer.  He didn't win."

I frowned.  "So where is he, then?"

Angelus tapped his chest.  "Locked up, in the cage he's kept me locked in
for the last century."  His grin grew.  "You should hear him. . .crying in
my head, trembling against the chains. . .he thinks that he's going to get
loose.  But he won't.  It's too late for him now.  He has to deal with me,
what I've done, what I will do."

I smiled, somewhat roguishly.   "Kill Cordelia and Wesley. . .seduce me?"  I
ran my fingers over his bedspread, absentmindedly wondering why he still had
the paisley print on his bed.  I didn't see Angelus as a paisley print man.

Angelus' laughter turned wicked.  "Can't seduce someone who's been dreaming
about me, Xander."

I looked up at him, my heart jumping into my throat.  "You. . .you know
about the dreams?  How do you know about the dreams?"

"My boy.  Told me before he realized who I was."  His smile widened, and I
could see the tips of his fangs.  My skin came alive with electricity.
Being around him gave me the strangest feeling.  I could feel the fear,
crawling along my spine like dancing spiders.  The eagerness, the tug of my
crotch, the way I felt lightheaded. . .he caused those reactions too.  And
by his grin, I knew that he knew that.

"So what are you going to do to me?" I asked softly.  I was scared, but I
knew he wouldn't kill me.

"What do you dream about, Xander?  Am I hurting you in your dreams?  Or am I
gentle, do I caress your heated skin?  Do we love each other?  Do we hate
each other?"

I kept my mouth shut, not able to bring myself to tell him how hard it made
me when he hurt me.  How I wanted him to tie me down and ravage me, take me
to heights I've never felt.

"So you won't tell me, hmm?"  He crossed his arms, sitting in the chair by
his bed.  His dark eyes were on me, watching me intently, drinking my soul,
feeling the very core of my being.  I never have had someone watch me like
he was at that moment, as if he knew my every thought, need, and want.  "I
know what you dream about."

"You. . .do?" I asked, my voice catching.  I cleared my throat slightly.  I
didn't want to sound like a little schoolgirl when I talked to him.

"You dream about long, sweaty nights. . ."  He stood up and started pacing.
He was beautiful when he paced, sleek like a panther.  You are probably tied
up. . ."  He stole a glance at me.  I kept my face expressionless.  "You are
probably hard. . .so hard it hurts.  And I don't touch you, not there.  I
run my hands, my fangs. . .maybe even an instrument of torture over your
smooth skin, watching the blood flow. . .drinking you, yet never touching
that which you ache for me to touch. . ."

I shifted, my cock pressing against the fabric of my jeans.  I had my eyes
closed, and I know my breathing was shallow.  His words seduced me, pulled
me into his world, his life, his mind.  I prayed that he wanted to do all of
that to me, that he wanted to tease me till I cried, till I begged.  There
was a part of me that stood up, wanted him to own me, possess me, claim me
again and again.  "Angelus," I whispered.  "Please. . ."

He was at my side in an instant, his hand around my chin.  He squeezed and
tilted my face up to his.  "You want that, don't you?"  My eyes flew open,
shocked.  His own orbs were flecked in gold - I knew he was trying to keep
the demon from coming forth.

"I. . .do," I whispered.  "I don't know why, I don't know what it is about
you that makes my body beg to be hit, to be fucked, to feel your bruising
touch."

He squeezed my jaw harder, and I moaned.  I never was one for violence - my
father dealt enough of that when I was growing up - but there was something
about Angelus. . .

"I see it in you, Xander," he leaned forward, whispering in my ear.  His
forced breath was cool, his words made my skin crawl.  I could feel it,
starting at the base of my skin, and traveling up, the fingers of want.  It
spread over my shoulders and down my arms.  I shivered, without realizing
that I was.  "I see the evil within you.  It's there.  It's deep, so deep
you don't know you have it, but I can see it.  I see it in the guarded way
you looked at Soulboy, at the open way you look at me.  Your demon, he wants
me.  He wants to be possessed by me.  Doesn't he?"

I whimpered, knowing I would have a bruise on my jaw tomorrow.  "Yes," I
whispered.  I never knew what it was that made me want him, but everything
he said, it made sense.  It had always been there, my *demon*.  It raged,
wanting to kill, to fuck, to deal out the abuse that had always been dealt
to me.  "But he needs to be controlled.  I can't do it, that's why he's
locked away."

"I have the key," Angelus whispered, running his tongue along my ear softly.
And then a fang pierced the fleshy lobe of my ear.

I yelped slightly at the pain, but it faded as soon as he took the lobe in
his ear, his soft tongue brushing against the sensitive skin.  He drank the
few drops of blood.  I could hear his low growl, could feel his mouth
vibrate against my ear.

I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensation.  His other hand had
strayed, resting on my thigh.  I wanted to beg him, plead with him to touch
me, run his cool hand on my cock, make me cum.

I could, and I would, I would explode, covering him, myself, probably the
ceiling.  I could feel the buildup, the imminent release, the want and need.
. .I needed him, wanted him, wanted to feel him against me, controlling me,
claiming me.  "Angelus, please. . ." I begged softly.

"Please what, Xander?" he teased.  "What do you want me to do to you?"

I cleared my throat, shifting, my face still in his bruising grip, my eyes
locked with his.  "You are the Master Vampire, figure it out," I challenged.


*~*~*~*

His gold-flecked brown eyes were a full gold within an instant.  My heart
literally jumped into my throat, and I swallowed, trying to dislodge it.

He closed his eyes and licked his lips, inhaling.  "Your fear, it smells so
sweet, Xander.  Almost overpowers your arousal."

I chewed my bottom lip slightly.  I opened my mouth to speak, and then it
happened.  Before I realized I was even moving, I was laying flat on the
bed, on my back, his massive body draped over mine.  I could feel his
hardness pressing into me. . .he wanted this as much as I did!  He pulled
his fangs over my neck.

My heart was pounding in my ears now, the blood rushing through my veins.  I
closed my eyes and let out a low moan, so soft he might not have heard it if
he weren't a vampire.  I felt a small prick.  I frowned, utterly amazed that
a vampire's bite was so. . .not painful.

And then I screamed.

He buried his fangs in my throat, right at the jugular.  It was the most
intense - and painful - feeling I think I have ever felt.  I could feel the
blood rushing to his mouth, feel him sucking, draining me, drinking my life
away.

I didn't want to die.

Not yet.  I was too young.

There was too much I wanted to experience first.

I pushed on his chest, the pain of his bite almost unbearable.  "Angelus," I
whimpered.  "Stop, you are hurting me. . ."

I started to feel lightheaded.  This was it.  I could feel all my blood
leaving my body, I could see the white light.  I stared into it, and
whispered, "I'm coming home. . .I am. . ."

And the pain was gone.

It took me a few minutes to realize that he was just lying on top of me now,
licking at the bites.  I blinked, realizing that I *would* live, that I wasn
't going to die, and that the white light I had been trying to reach was
really the light fixture on his ceiling.  I was still lightheaded, and the
thought of that, of thinking that Angelus' ceiling was heaven, made me
chuckle slightly.

"Xander. . ." he purred.

I closed my eyes, needing sleep.  I was still hard, still aroused, still
wanted to feel him hurt me, but I was tired.  So very tired, so ready to
sleep for a few days. . .

Until he ripped my shirt open.  Buttons flew everywhere.  He ran his massive
hands over my chest, flicking my nipples with his thumbnails.  I moaned,
waking up.  "Angelus. . . "

He leaned down, running his tongue against my dusky nipple.  It hardened
under his ministration.  He chuckled to himself, then pierced it with one of
his fangs.  I moaned, clutching his shoulders.  It was an incredible
feeling, my puckered flesh being penetrated.  "Please. . ."

I seemed to be doing a lot of begging.

He laughed against my skin, then got up.  I shivered in the cool apartment
air.  It was suddenly cold with his body gone.  Not that his body was the
same warmth of the kind of body I was used to, but it was warm enough for me
to miss it.

He fumbled around the room, gathering things.  When he returned to the bed,
he stripped me.  I watched him with wide eyes, wondering what delicious
things he had planned.  How he was going to hurt me, how he was going to
make me whole.

My cock jumped slightly under his gaze.  "Beautiful," he muttered.
"Absolutely beautiful.  You, my dear Xander, are a work of art."  He licked
his lips.  "I will have to draw you. . .having your naked flesh grace my
portfolio will be so much better than the one I drew of you sleeping."

A chill ran through my body.  "You've drawn me before?"

"There is a place on your roof," he smiled around fangs, "where I would sit,
and watch you.  I could see straight into your room.  I would draw you when
you slept.  You see, my boy, you intrigued me before, when I had control of
this body.  Unfortunately, I was too obsessed with the Slayer to do anything
about it.  There was a part of me that wanted to, wanted to pull you in my
arms, show you that I would be so much better for you than the snippy bitch.
. .or even Willow.  Neither of them deserve you.  No one does.  No one but
me."

"And that's the way it shall be," I said softly, with a shiver.

His gold eyes flickered with possession - possession of me.  He leaned over
me, tying my hands to the headboard.  "You know this is the moment, boy."

I nodded, unable to speak.  This was it.  This was the moment my
subconscious has been wanting for the last three years, since I laid eyes on
the unsouled vampire.

He pulled out a feather.

I started laughing.

I couldn't help it.  I think I was still delirious from the blood loss.  A
feather!  I mean, come *on*!  What the hell could he do to me with a damn
feather!?

"You scoff at the feather?" he asked.

"Deadboy, seriously," I said, the mood ruined.  "What the hell could you do
with me and a *feather*?"

His eyes flashed dangerously.  "*Don't* ever call me 'Deadboy' again.  And
you would be surprised at what the torture a feather. . ."  He dropped his
hand, running the tip of the feather along my breastbone.  I shuddered, my
cock surging.  ". . .can do to a person."

I have never felt a feather against my skin in the way Angelus was using it.
He traced the defined muscles of my chest, causing me to moan.  It was
driving me crazy, the sweet torture.  It didn't hurt, like real pain, yet it
hurt so much more.  I tugged on my bindings, wanting to make him touch me.

The soft touches were going to drive me out of my mind.  I could almost feel
the pressure, but not quite.  I closed my eyes, every inch of my skin alive.
I could tell exactly where the feather was, but as soon as I pinpointed it's
location, it was gone.  Yet the tingling feeling of the wispy ends stayed
with me, throwing my senses haywire.

He traveled over my stomach, causing the muscles to clench around the trail.
I could almost feel the spasms starting.  I needed him to touch me. . .oh
god, I needed him.

He pushed my legs apart, sitting between them.  He ran the feather around my
cock, yet not touching it.  I thrust my hips up, silently begging for his
touch.  He put his hand on my stomach and growled.  I opened my eyes,
meeting those dangerous golden orbs.  "Stop thrusting, or I will leave you
like this and not untie you until morning."

I stilled my body, tensing, waiting, needing, anticipating.

A low groan left my lips when the end of the feather brushed against the
head of my cock.  A plethora of begging sprung through my mind.  Please, oh
god, please, please touch me, please claim me, please make me yours, make me
stop begging, touch my cock, touch me anywhere, I need to feel your hand on
my skin, your body, your skin, feel you fuck me, fuck my mouth, fuck my ass,
just fuck me, please god, please fuck me. . .

"Angelus. . ." I moaned.

And he resumed, running the feather up and down the inside of my thigh,
teasing, titillating.

I hated that feather.

*~*~*~*

I closed my eyes, the loud music blaring in my headphones.

*i am the voice inside your head
i am the lover in your bed
i am the sex that you provide
i am the hate you try to hide.*

Trent Reznor's words meant more to me than they ever have before.  The
pounding of the drums, the harsh blare of the guitars, his words and his
deep voice. . .the repeating whisper 'and i control you'. . .it was almost
too much.

The whole song, 'mr self destruct', it completely explained Angelus' and my
relationship.  If it even is a relationship.  Maybe it's just a situation.
A want, a need, something to placate him until he finds something better. .
.

I prayed he didn't find something better.

*i take you where you want to go
i give you all you need to know
i drag you down i use you up*

If that wasn't Angelus speaking about me, I didn't know what was.

I jumped, a hand landing on my shoulder.  I spun around wildly, my heart in
my throat.  I was still jumpy because of last night.

He left me tied up for *hours*.  I don't know how long it was, but it was an
eternity.  I was hard the whole time, begging, keening, whimpering. . .he
loved the helplessness.  He sat above me, his hand stroking his cock slowly,
making me watch.  He was straddling me, kneeling over my abdomen.  My cock
was straining, trying to touch him, rub against his cool skin, but damn if
he wasn't close enough.  His hand moved methodically, his thumb rubbing over
the head ever so often.  I watched him, licking my lips, wanting to taste
him, wanting him to touch me.

He did this forever.  And ever.  And then he did it some more.  I never knew
someone could jack off so long and not cum.  But finally, he did.  The cool
ribbon of white splashed on my face, my chest, my arms. . .everywhere.  He
was beautiful when he had an orgasm.  His game face slid on, and he growled,
his body tensing.  And then there was the cum.  It was cool, much cooler
than I expected.  It almost felt like silk on my heated flesh.

He traced the pattern, with his thumbnail.  He sliced my skin so neatly, I
barely felt any pain.  The blood sprang to the surface so quickly though.
He smiled, that grin that sent chills along my skin.  "Time to clean you
off, Harris."

He leaned down, running his tongue along the pink strip, like a cat lapping
milk.  He cleaned me off, his tongue making me quiver.  "Angelus. . .I need
you. . .I need you to make me cum," I begged, tears streaming down my face.
It was beginning to hurt.  Bad.

With a smile, he moved down, engulfing my cock before I realized he was
going to.

I'm ashamed to say that's all it took.

My body spasmed, and I exploded, shooting my load down his throat.  He drank
eagerly, milking me for all I was worth, everything I was.

But even today, this morning, I was still tense.  So I reacted when that
hand landed on my shoulder, jumping up and spinning around.  "Not yet!" I
cried.  "Need time to recov. . ."  I frowned.  "Wills?"  I pulled the
headphones off.

My best friend stared at me like I was crazy.  "Xander?  You ok?  You seem.
. .tense."

I shook my head.  "I'm fine. . .fine.  Just a little. . ."  I sighed,
sitting down.

"Xander, what happened last night?" she asked, sitting next to me.

I dropped my head in my hands, sighing.  "It was. . .so much more than my
dreams could ever be.  You know the one I told you about, last time, you
know, when he ahh, when he tied me up and teased me relentlessly for hours?"

She nodded, her eyes wide and concerned.

I looked up at her, hoping my face told all.

Her eyes widened further, and she pulled me closer, examining my body for
cuts or bites.  She brushed her fingers over the bite on my jugular, and I
shuddered.  "Oooh, don't do that, Wills.  Too much pleasure there."

She pulled her hand away.  "Did he hurt you?"

"In a good way or a bad way?" I asked.

"In a bad way," she whispered.

I thought over the night, the feather, that torturous feather. . .his cum
splashing on my body, the fingernail splitting my skin, the gentle lapping
of his tongue. . .the way my cock filled his mouth, how it felt inside of
that cool orifice. . .

"No," I responded truthfully.  "Nothing more than I could handle, and
nothing that I didn't want."

She leaned forward, hugging me.  "If it ever gets to be too much. . ."

I smirked, laughter escaping my lips.  "Somehow, I think if Angelus wants to
truly hurt me, he could do it and you wouldn't be able to stop him."

Her resolve face fell into place.  "That doesn't mean I wouldn't try."

My smirk faded into a smile.  "Thanks, Wills.  You are the best, you know."

"Of course I am."  She smiled at me, giving me a hug.  "Please don't ever
forget that," she whispered.

"I could never forget you, Wills.  You are what's going to keep me sane."


*~*~*~*

He was watching me.

I was pretending not to notice.

He was pretending not to watch.

Spike and Willow were on the couch, talking animatedly about whatever it is
that those two talk about.  Angelus was sitting in his chair, flipping
through the newspaper.  I never thought of a vampire as someone who would
sit around, reading a newspaper, but then, Angelus isn't your normal
vampire.

I had my headphones on, listening to my CD.  I went from Nine Inch Nails to
Type O Negative.  There was something about being around Angelus that
brought out my darker side.  He made me want to stand up and scream, tell
the world to fuck off, do whatever the hell I want.  He made me want to lay
spread eagle on a bed and offer myself to him.

I was singing softly, nodding my head slowly, my eyes closed.  I tuned all
of them out, only listening to the song, singing along to myself.  In my
head,  I was in a world of my own, a world of leather, darkness, blood,
fangs, and yellow glowing eyes.  I imagined being beneath him, on top of
him, within him.  I wanted to feel him cover me, smother me, claim me. . .I
wanted to smell like him, taste like him. . .when I licked my lips, I wanted
it to be him I savor.

*In her place, one hundred candles burning.*

The music was slow, the bass was mesmerizing.  I was completely lost in the
song, the emotion, listening to the hypnotic voice of the singer, the piano
adding flavor to the song.

*As salty sweat drips from her breast*

And then, suddenly, I was there.  I was in my dream.  I was lying on the
bed, hands stretched above my head.  But I wasn't tied down.  I could move
my hands away from the tight grip I had on the headboard if I wanted to. .
.but who said I wanted to?

Beads of sweat were dripping from my skin, leaving glistening trails along
my body.  I was alone.  At least, I didn't see Angelus anywhere. . .  I was
lying on a bed, alone and naked.  I closed my eyes and decided not to see,
but to feel.

*Her hips move and I can feel what they're saying, swaying. . .*

I could feel his hands on my body now, running up my sides.  He was barely
using his nails, teasing my flesh.  I quivered under his touch, wanting,
needing more.  He moved up my body, licking the salty sweat off of my flesh,
nipping at my tender skin ever so gently.

He was being gentle.  That was what surprised me the most.  Angelus was
always rough, whether in my dreams, or when we were really together.  I
couldn't imagine him being anything other than a vampire.

*They say the beast inside of me is gonna get ya,  get ya, get. . .*

I could almost hear him telling me that, whispering to me that the he wanted
me, that the demon would have me.  His tongue ran down my jaw line,
capturing my lips in a pushing kiss.

In my dream, he was tender.  The room was filled with candles, on every
available flat space he could fit one.  I'd never seen so many candles.  The
light was beautiful, the way the flames danced against the wall, causing the
shadows to move in a seductive dance.  They were dancing along to the beat
of the music, the band that played in my head, in my dreams.

A slight smile crossed my face when he kissed me.  There wasn't any force or
roughness to his lips.  Just a gentle brushing, his tongue shot out to find
mine, massage mine, tease me playfully.

*Let me love you to death
Hey, am I good enough. . .for you*

Yes, Angelus, oh god, yes, you were good enough for me.  So very good.  The
way you touched me, the way you looked at me, the way you made me feel.  It
was amazing, when a vampire wanted you.  The demon was so much more
possessive than a human.  The demon liked to stake his claim, let you know
that you belonged to him.

I knew that was part of what Willow loved about Spike.  He let her know that
he wanted her, for all time.  She felt something with him that she never
felt with me, Oz, Tara, no one.  She felt desired, beautiful.  I think
Willow had more sex in the first week they got together than the rest of her
entire life.  I couldn't tell you how many times I've walked in on them
going at it on the couch.  When Spike wanted it, he didn't care where he
was.  He had her so wrapped up in wanting him, she didn't care where she was
either.

I wondered if Angelus would be like that?  If we would be walking down the
street of LA and he would lean over and growl in my ear, telling me that we
needed to go to the alley?  Would he push me against the wall and rip my
pants down, sheathing himself in me with one hard thrust?

God, I hoped so.

I felt something to my left and turned my head, opening my eyes.  I jumped
back, startled.  I pulled my headphones off and smiled weakly.  "Angelus. .
.hey."  He was kneeling next to me!

He grinned.  "You were singing, Harris."

My face burned with embarrassment.  "I. . .was?"  Oh, god, I was singing the
song out loud.

"Yea."  His grin grew.  "Do you want me to love you to death, Xander?" he
purred.

The blood that had rushed to my face in the embarrassed moment I just
experienced rushed away.  "Uh. . .no," I said.  "I don't want to die.  Dying
and Xander Harris, they just don't go together.  At all.  Nope, not this
human.  I want to stay very much alive, thanks."

"Sounds like an interesting song, lover.  You seemed to be in rapture.  What
were you thinking about?" he asked, leaning towards me, brushing his lips
against mine.

"You," I squeaked.  I cleared my throat.  "You," I repeat.  "I was thinking
about you, and candles and. . ."  Did I say it?  Did I dare say it?  No one
could ever say Alexander LaVelle Harris was the smartest man in the world.
"You loving me."

His dancing brown eyes hardened, and his jaw locked.  I pulled away from
him, suddenly scared.  Apparently, love wasn't on Angelus' agenda when it
came to me.  He stood up, grabbing my arm.  He yanked me up, pulling my body
against his.  "Come on," he hissed.  "We have to have a little talk."

*~*~*~*

I sat down heavily on the bed, wincing.  I was waiting.  He was going to
hurt me, or kill me, or *something*.  I knew it wasn't anything good.  I
could see the fear in Willow's big green eyes as he led me upstairs.  She
was terrified for me!  Spike had his trademark smirk firmly in place.  He
knew what was going on.

It couldn't have possibly been good.

"Love?" Angelus spat.  "You expect me to love you?"

I looked up at him, my heart crushing under his words.  What the hell was I
thinking?  Why did I wish against everything that this demon could love me?
That he even knew what love was?  I saw what he did to Spike, what he did to
Drusilla.  I saw the way he treated Buffy when he was in Sunnydale a couple
years ago.  This wasn't a creature capable of love.  He took love in its
purest form and bent it, twisted it, causing it to turn into something black
and ugly and mangled.

And I would have even settled for that.

"No," I said softly.  I looked down.  "I. . .I just wanted. . .I don't know.
I just wanted to be yours."

He grabbed my chin, deepening the bruise I already had there.  He jerked my
head up, making the back of my neck ache.  "You *are* mine, Harris.  You
should not doubt that.  You will always be mine, until I tire of you."

"I'm yours, but. . .you don't love me?" I asked.  Like I said before.  Never
think that I'm the smart one.  You'd be mistaken.

With a growl, he slammed into me, pushing me down on the bed.  His face was
inches from mine, his eyes yellow, his fangs long.  "What part of 'You
belong to me' don't you understand?  There is *no* love here, Harris.  There
will never be love.  But you are too precious a possession for me to let you
walk away.  I know you want this, you want to belong to me."

I wanted love.

I wasn't going to lie about that.  I wanted love, needed it. . .probably
craved it.

But I knew I wasn't going to get it.  My parents never loved me, I didn't
know if Cordelia really loved me. . .I *knew* Faith didn't love me.  Anya. .
.she loved me in her own way, I think, but it wasn't what I needed.  Buffy
saw me as her goofy friend that eased the tension.  Willow. . .my best
friend Willow was the only person I've ever known that loved me - really
loved me - and it was at that moment that I realized she would be the only
person to love me.

And that was more than enough for me.

I wanted to be owned by Angelus.  I wanted to be used for his pleasure - it
was a dark urge I had.  Another personality trait to thank my parents for, I
supposed.  I guess if you were raised with violence, you would learn to get
off on it.

I closed my eyes, the words on my lips before I realize that I'd whispered
them:  "I'm yours, Angelus.  Do with me what you will."  I tilted my head,
baring my neck to him.

Tears filled my eyes when his fangs slid into my skin.  He bit down hard,
marking me, claiming me, filling my pores with his scent.  I knew about a
vampire, and his bite.  Willow and I had snuck around and read enough of
Giles' books to know more than we probably should know.  When a vampire bit
you, it was for one of three reasons:  to feed off of you, in the heat of
passion, or to claim you.  When a vampire claimed someone, you were theirs.
Their scent permeated your body.

And by the way this particular bite hurt, it was apparent to me that when
Angelus bit me the night before, it wasn't a claim.

He pulled away, his lips stained with my blood.  He kissed me fiercely,
possessively, the taste of copper sweeping in and out of my mouth.
Something about the taste of my blood spurred me on, and I kissed him back,
just as hard.

I did want him, I wanted him to own me, and I felt as if I had to prove it
to him.  Prove that I wanted to be there at his mercy.  That I existed only
to please him.

He pulled up, gazing down at me with those dark brown eyes of his.
  "Harris," he said, his voice silky smooth.  "You are mine."

I nodded in agreement.

"I've claimed you.  Vampires will know you belong to me, and should leave me
alone.  However, the bites won't stay there for eternity.  I want something
that you can see, something that when you see it, you know it is mine."

I frowned as he looked thoughtful.  Something permanent.  Something claiming
his hold on me.  "A tattoo!" I exclaimed.

A slight grin covered his features and I realized that he always knew what
he was going to use.  He leaned across the bed, reaching into the
nightstand.  "I have something much, much better," he purred.  He held up an
ornate dagger, the light reflecting off the silver blade.

My blood ran cold.  What the hell was he going to do with that?  "What. . ."
I whispered, my voice caught in my throat.

The small grin grew into a full-fledged evil smile.  "I like to make those
that belong to me wear my 'A'."

I blinked, my eyes wide.  "You are gong to carve me?" I asked.  That
frightened me.  The intensity of the pain. . .I was sure I would pass out.
I suddenly knew that he didn't care either.

He trailed the flat edge of the blade against my cheek.  "It appears that
way, now doesn't it, Harris?"  His seductive laughter filled the room as he
got up and moved around, gathering things for my ritual scarring.

I lay on the bed, my thoughts jumbled.  I was about to willingly let a
cold-blooded murderer mar my flesh with a knife.  I was terrified.  More
scared than anything I've ever been scared of:  The Mayor, Angelus chasing
after Buffy, Spike, the Initiative, the Hyena incident, my preying mantis
teacher, Buffy with PMS. . .even my parents didn't scare me like this.

And again, I amazed myself.  I was so hard it hurt.

*~*~*~*

I screamed.  I could hear the echo of my scream bouncing off the walls.
Willow was going to freak out, I knew that.  I imagined her wide eyes,
filled with terror, pushing herself against Spike.  I knew that it was
something we'd have to talk about the next morning.

The blade of the knife slid easily into my skin, like it would butter.  He'd
moved from the back of my neck, where he'd carved his first 'A'.  I thought
I was going to be lucky and get off with only one marking, but I realized
that I was wrong when he moved down to my right shoulder blade.

My skin was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and the pain was unbearable.
I knew it wouldn't be much longer before I passed out.

I was rock hard, trying desperately to push my aching cock into the silk
sheets, but he kept stopping and holding my hips down, demanding that I
stop.  "Angelus. . .please," I begged.

"Harris, the more you defy me and try to get off, the longer this will take
and the more it will hurt."

I whimpered, knowing that it wouldn't matter because soon I would be
unconscious.  "I'm sorry, Angelus," I babbled.  "I'll try to be better, just
for you. . .because that's what I do, things for you, because I love you and
I need you to accept me. . ."  I didn't even know what I was talking about
at that point.  The words sounded familiar, I knew that I had said them many
times over the years to my father as he beat me.  "I love you," I sobbed.
"I just need you to need me, and if hurting me makes you need me, I can take
it. . ."

The blade sliced my skin, hurting more than it had before.  He was pressing
harder, and I could hear him growling angrily.

I twisted the sheets in my hands and screamed as loud as I could.  And then,
suddenly, there was blessed darkness descending on me.  My last thought was,
"Pain. . .god, the pain. . ."

*~*~*~*

I swam to consciousness slowly, felt someone dabbing at the skin above my
soft dick.  "Angelus," I moaned softly, the pain of his fingers pressing the
cool cloth against my skin hurting more than I would admit.

"Shh," a soft voice whispered.  "It's ok, Xander.  I'm putting antiseptic
on. . .this. . .so it doesn't get infected."

That wasn't Angelus' voice.

It was Willow's.

And I was still naked.

My eyes flew open and my hands pushed her away, covering myself.  "Willow,
Angelus will kill you if he sees you in here, seeing me naked!"

"No," she whispered, rubbing my chest lovingly.  "He told me to come in here
and get you up, and to make sure that you were ok."

I blinked, looking up at her worried eyes.  "Thank you," I whispered.  I sat
up and glanced down, moving my hands.  He'd shaven my pubic hair and there,
carved on the skin above my dick, was an angry 'A'.  "Oh, god, that hurts,"
I whimpered.

"I already cleaned up the one on the back of your neck and on your shoulder
blade," she whispered.

"I'm rather surprised the wanker marked you so many times," Spike said from
his chair beside the bed.  "He only scarred me above me dick."

I glanced over at Spike, groaning.  I laid back, mindful of the scar on my
shoulder and neck.  "It hurts."

"Why does he do this?" Willow asked.

"He wants Xander to know who he belongs to.  He likes the control, and the
screams," Spike shrugged.

"He doesn't love me," I whispered, looking over at Spike.

Spike's laughter rang through the room.  "My Sire doesn't believe in 'love'.
The demon rejects everything that has anything to do with it, hence the
reason he went so soddin' nuts the last time he was loose.  The soul loved
the Slayer.  That angered him."

I sighed, closing my eyes.  "I don't know why I want him to love me so
 much."

"I do," Willow said softly, lying beside my naked body.  Here I was, laying
in a bed naked, my best friend beside me, and I didn't even care.  She
pulled me into her arms, stroking my back like she had so many times in the
past.

I was limp, letting her comfort wash over me.  It felt good, to know that
there was still someone who cared.  "Why?" I murmured softly against her
neck.

"Because all your life, everyone has hurt you, and all you've wanted is for
them to love you.  Your parents, what they did to you was wrong, and yet you
forced yourself to go back, knowing it was what was right.  And you became
dependant on that.  And now, Angelus offers the same comfort.  He hurts you,
and I don't doubt that you enjoy it, somewhere in that mind of yours. But
you want him to love you too."

"He never will," I whispered sleepily.  "My mind knows that, but my heart
refuses to listen."

Willow continued to stroke my back, staying away from the shoulder blade
where Angelus marked me.  She stroked me until I eventually fell back
asleep.

*~*~*~*

I woke up sometime later to a haze of confusion.  I was alone in the bed
again, and I could hear Angelus and Spike screaming at each other.  I
climbed out of bed and pulled on my jeans, groaning as the fabric rubbed
against my new scar.  I couldn't wait till that healed.

I headed downstairs and sat next to Willow, who was watching the two yell
with wide eyes.  "What's wrong?" I asked, trying to figure out what the two
vampires were saying.

"Something really not good happened while you were sleeping."

My blood ran cold.  "What?" I asked.  "Apocalypse?  Cordelia and Wesley came
back?  Angelus got his soul?  What is it?"

"Buffy called."

I opened my mouth, then shut it.  "What?" I finally asked, waiting for the
bad news part.  There had to be more than just Buffy calling.

"She found out, Xander.  I don't know how, but she found out he was Angelus.
She's coming to kill him, once and for all."

My eyes narrowed, and I could feel my body go tight.  The small part of
darkness that resided in my soul stood up, ready to defend my lover from the
threat.  "Not if I have anything to do with it," I snarled angrily.

*~*~*~*

I watched with detached interest as Buffy stormed into the apartment,
yelling about him killing his assistants.  She turned to Willow, and said,
"Willow, how can you be here, in this apartment, with a killer?"

She sighed and rubbed her face.  "Buffy, I sleep with one every night," she
said softly.  "Please. . .please don't do this.  Don't hurt Angelus."  She
glanced at me, like she was waiting for me to do something.  I was just
sitting on the couch, passive.  Waiting.

Angelus was also watching me curiously, wondering if I were just going to
sit there.  I could see the disappointment flickering in his eyes, as if he
wanted me to risk my life trying to stop the Slayer.

What he didn't realize was that I was waiting for the right moment.

Riley and Graham followed Buffy, Riley holding one of those stupid
Initiative plastic looking tazer guns.  He pointed it at Spike and grinned,
a look of craziness on his face.  He was looking forward to hurting Spike, I
think.  Spike's eyes widened and he stepped back, his hands up.  "Now, now,
Iowa, we don't have to do this. . ." he started.

Willow jumped up, screaming at the top of her lungs.  "Don't hurt him!" she
screamed.  Graham reached out and grabbed her, a look of sadness flickering
in his eyes.  He pulled her to his body, covering her mouth with his hand.
She was struggling, Spike was growling.

Riley grinned.  "I've been wanting to do this for so long," he said.  He
shot the tazer, electricity surrounding Spike.  The blonde fell to the
floor, convulsing.  I could hear Willow whimpering, struggling, trying to
get away from Graham to help Spike.

I watched as Buffy surveyed the scene with a slight smile.  She glanced at
Angelus, who was in full game face, growling like a dangerous animal.  She
walked over to me and kneeled in front of me.  I blinked, knowing that my
face was completely blank.

"Xander," she said softly, taking my hand.

Angelus' growls got louder when she touched me.  A bolt of desire traveled
down my spine, hearing his possessiveness.

"Xander, I'm going to take you home," she said quietly.

I tilted my head.  "Home?"  It was almost comical, the way the entire world
was falling apart, and I could only sit there, like a child, feeling
nothing, watching them hurt Spike and hold my sobbing best friend.  I could
only tilt my head and ask Buffy what she thought home was.

"Yea, Sunnydale.  I won't let Angelus hurt you."

"Angelus doesn't hurt me," I answered.  "No more than my parents do."  It
was the truth.  The things my parents did to me were far worse than what
Angelus had done.

She frowned slightly - I was good at covering up all the bruisings I'd
received at my father's hand.  Willow was the only one who knew. . .I
suspected Spike knew from the time he lived in my basement.  "Well. . .we
won't go there then.  We will have to force Willow to go back with us, I
know Spike has her brainwashed. . ."

"Willow stays," I said, my voice steel.  "She stays, and so do I."  I could
feel my face change from the passive calmness it had previously held to a
locked jaw slight frown.

"You don't want to stay here.  Not with Angelus," Buffy replied, flipping
her hair behind her shoulder.

"Buffy," I said, squeezing her hand.  "You are one of my best friends.
We've been closer this last year than we have the entire time I've known
you. But I love Angelus.  I'm not leaving him."

"You *what*?  You've *got* to be kidding."

"I don't joke about matters of the heart, Buffy.  I love him.  He owns me."
I leaned down, pushing my hair away from my neck.  Her fingers brushed over
my elaborate 'A' scar.

"He scarred you," she whispered, her voice filled with venom.  "The bastard
scarred you."

"You don't have one?" I asked curiously.  Then it hit me.  "Oh, right, of
course not.  It was the pathetic soul that was in love with you.  Good
riddance.  No offence, I know you loved him, but god, Buff.  He was just
such a. . .pussy."

She narrowed her eyes, standing up.  "That's it.  I'm tired of this fucking
game.  I don't know what the hell you've done to Xander, Angelus, but it
stops now."

She stalked over to him and swung at him, and he retaliated, hitting back.
I watched them, knowing that Buffy wouldn't hurt Angelus.  She never could.

I was so entranced with watching them fight, I failed to notice Riley inch
forward and slam a metal candlestick holder over Angelus' head.  Buffy took
the opportunity and slammed him against the wall, her forearm against his
neck.  He looked at her through semi-dazed yellow eyes.  She pulled out a
stake, ready to plunge it into his chest.

Spike was able to speak, but was still convulsing a bit from the electricity
that had traveled through his body. "Sire!" he yelled, his voice full of
anguish.

Before I even realized I was standing up, I was at Buffy's side, her wrist
held high in the air by my hand.  I squeezed slightly.  "If you even so much
as *think* of killing my lover, I swear to all things in heaven and on
earth, I will turn you into ashes."

She turned her head.  "Xander?" she questioned.

My fist connected solidly with her nose.

And then. . .I blacked out.


*~*~*~*
{Start Angel's POV}

He was beautiful.

I know, I know, I obsess too much.  It's one of my flaws.  At least, that's
what William always told me.  But then, he never complained, because he was
my obsession at the time.

But that was over a century ago.

Xander Harris is my obsession now.

Perhaps even more than a mere obsession. . .

Something snapped in him when his fist connected with Buffy's nose.  His
face grew hard, his eyes cold.  He completely gave himself to the darkness
inside of him, finally allowing his own demon to push forward.

With an inhuman roar, he launched at her, knocking the Slayer to the ground
with a startled thud.  The blonde immediately screamed, "XANDER!  What the
hell are you doing?"

"You will *never* touch my lover," he hissed, glaring down at her.  I
grinned slowly, knowing that he would show the Slayer that she couldn't mess
with his family.  I found myself wondering how far it would go, how much
would he hurt her.

The thought of him slamming her head into the ground - repeatedly - made me
hard.  I don't think Xander has ever turned me on as much as he did at that
moment.

But that was only because the show had just begun.

I could imagine my lover as a vampire, those dark evil eyes turning to gaze
at me, stalk me, watch me.  He turned his head at that moment, his eyes
catching mine.  "Angelus," he said, his words seductively evil, "you and me,
after this.  I want you on your knees."

I actually felt a chill go down my spine when he said that.  I wasn't scared
of him, far from it.  But the evil in this mere mortal could rival mine.  I
could see his soul in his eyes, dark and fathomless, begging to be released.
Begging to scream to the world that he owned it and would take it down, one
bloody human at a time.

This was an evil I haven't seen in a mortal since. . .since William.

I fell in love with William the night I saw him hunched over that still
form, knife jutting from his victim's back.  His hair was falling
everywhere, having come out of the nice ponytail he'd kept it in.  He was
rifling through the dead man's pockets.

He had gotten some blood on his fingers, and I saw those blue eyes close in
ecstasy when his mouth wrapped around the tips, gingerly tasting dead man's
blood.

I knew, at that moment, I wanted this man.

I loved this man.

I would have him.

And I did.  For almost thirty years, he was my companion, my lover, my
confidant.  And then I left.  Fucking soul.

But I digress.  This isn't about William, or his successor.  This is about
my Xander.

Whom I was very quickly falling in love with.

Buffy was pleading.  "Xander, please. . .please don't do this.  I won't hurt
Angelus, I promise.  Just stop this."

Xander slammed her head into the ground viciously, laughing the whole time.
"You just don't get it, do you, Bitchy?  You can't just storm in here,
restrain *my* best friend, electrocute her lover and threaten to dust *my*
lover!  We aren't in your town anymore, little girl!  This is fucking LA!
This is Angelus' town, and you were wrong to come here."  He slammed her
head into the ground again, and I could smell her blood.

I licked my lips.  Maybe she'd be too dazed to leave yet and Spike and I
could have a meal.

I glanced over at the rest of the people in my apartment.  Willow was
kneeling over Spike, whispering softly.  I knew it was a healing spell.  The
stupid hick my soul's ex lover was dating was standing there, staring at
Buffy in horror, and the other Commando was just in shock.  Willow kissed
Spike's forehead, then went to the other Commando.  She looked up at him and
whispered, "Leave, Graham, or you will get hurt.  Leave and don't ever look
back."

He looked down at her, the sadness I noticed earlier passing over his face.
"I'm glad we were friends, Wills.  I'm sorry about. . .this.  I tried to
stop her.  I tried to tell her that you and Xander could take care of
yourselves. . ."

She covered his lips with her fingers.  "Go, before Angelus realizes you are
just standing here.  He's liable to kill you."

Graham kissed her forehead and turned, not going anywhere.  My childe was
standing behind him, a look of unadulterated rage on his face.  "Get out of
here, Miller," he growled.

It was the most curious thing.  I could see the concern. . .and dare I admit
it?  The affection my childe had for this man in his eyes.  Apparently,
Graham Miller was a friend to both my childe and his mate.

"Thanks, Spike," Graham whispered.  And then he was gone.

I turned back to Xander.  He was kneeling over Buffy, who hadn't made a move
on him yet.  I don't think she thought she was in any real trouble, or she
would have beaten him to a bloody pulp.

How dare the bitch underestimate my lover?

Oh well.  It was her loss. . .

He stood up, still taunting her, and grabbed her by the hair.  He yanked her
tiny body to his and ran his tongue along her cheek, just as a vampire
would.  My cock throbbed at the sight.

His face screwed up in a disgusted emotion.  "Nasty Slayer," he hissed.

She looked at him in horror.  "Xander!  You are human!  Why are you acting
like a fucking vampire?"

He narrowed his eyes.  "It's who I am, Buffy.  You never took the time to
see past the fucking goofiness.  You never saw exactly *what* my parents did
to me all those years. . .what the hyena spirit left me. . .even what being
turned into the goddamn Commando did to me.  You never saw anything past the
snotty upturned nose on your face.  Nothing you didn't want to see.  Guess
what, Slutty.  Payback is a bitch."  He turned to me.  "Get some chains.
Spike, hold Iowa.  I don't want him to try to rescue his little girlfriend."

I stalked through the apartment, towards my weapons chest.  I pulled out a
two long lengths of chains, wondering what Xander was up to.  He was going
to torture her before he let her go, that much I knew.

Together, the two of us subdued her enough to attach her to a hook in my
ceiling.  No one ever noticed the hook in the ceiling of my living room.  I
wasn't sure why Soulboy put it there, but I wasn't complaining.

There stood Buffy Summers, the Slayer, in my living room, her hands above
her head, attached to chains held by a hook in my ceiling.  It was a
beautiful sight.  She was struggling, but I knew that she couldn't get
loose.  Thankfully, Soulboy had magically enhanced these chains.  I wondered
what Xander was going to do to her.

Xander turned to Willow and Spike, Spike holding the struggling Commando in
his arms.  My childe looked beautiful, in full game face, playfully snapping
at Riley's neck, but not causing pain.  I had to remember to get that chip
removed pretty soon.

"Willow, this won't be pretty.  You might want to leave."

I blinked.  Xander was pretty much telling Willow to leave the room.
Exactly what *did* he have in mind for our bound Slayer?  I grinned,
settling down on the couch.  I knew I would enjoy it.

I shifted slightly, trying to alleviate the pressure of the leather on my
hard cock.  I almost wanted him to hurry up and finish with the bitch so I
could have a piece of him. . .almost.

Willow glanced around, then walked up to Xander.  She leaned up and kissed
him softly on the forehead.  His up-until-that-moment tense body relaxed and
he pulled her close, running his tongue along her jugular.  Yet again, he
made me throb against my leather.

"Mmm. . .Wills. . .Spike's one lucky vampire.  You. . ."  he turned his head
to the Slayer,  "unlike the nasty tasting Slayer," he turned back to Willow,
"taste delicious."

She giggled.  "I love you, Xander.  All your evil, all your goodness. .
.everything."  She caressed his cheek, kissed his nose, and then turned.
She blew a kiss at Spike, then winked at me, and left the room.

I was amazed.  I knew that Willow was probably the most innocent person I'd
ever met - and before finding out about her and my childe, had thought of
turning her, of destroying that innocence, but knew I couldn't.  She was the
most innocent person I'd ever met, and yet she accepted us all for who we
were, because her heart was that big.

If someone as sweet as Willow Rosenberg could love something as dark and
evil as my Xander, then I knew I could too.

Xander pulled his shirt off with a smirk.  My eyes never left his body as he
pulled the ornate dagger I'd carved him with out of the waistband of his
pants.  He circled Buffy once, then twice, chuckling as she twisted and
turned, trying to watch him stalk her.

He stood in front of her, his face changing from the hardened man that had
stood there a moment before, to the goofy Xander she was used to.  She
relaxed visibly.  "Oh, thank god, Xander, you are normal!" she exclaimed.
"Please. . .you gotta save me!  I don't. . .I don't know what they are going
to do to me!"

He grinned, and laughed a little.  "Come on, Buffy, you aren't scared. .
.are you?"

"Me?" she asked.  I could smell her fear. . .see it in her hazel eyes.  "No,
of course not!  I'm not scared at all.  I'm the Slayer!"

"Right," he murmured.  "The Slayer."  He turned slightly, glancing at me.  I
raised an eyebrow, and he winked at me.  He turned back to Buffy.  "The high
and mighty Slayer, the one brought to the Hellmouth to protect the innocent
people from vampires and demons.  I should let you go, so you can go and
continue saving innocent lives, huh?"

She nodded.  "Please?" she begged.

He grinned.  "I guess that would be of the good. . ."  He tightened his grip
on the dagger and plunged it in her stomach.  "Oops, I guess not."

She cried out, and Riley screamed, "Buffy!"

The smell of her blood assaulted my senses and my demon's true face fell
into place.  I licked my lips.  He was truly going to hurt her.  This was
going to be nice.

He twisted his wrist somewhat, driving the dagger deeper into her body.  He
pulled it out and studied the blade curiously, watching as her blood dripped
slowly, covering his hand.  I could hear Spike growling, wanting to taste.
I groaned myself, hating that all that delicious Slayer blood was going to
waste.

Xander's mouth went up in the most perfect imitation of one of my smirks it
nearly blew me away at how sexy it was on him.  He closed his eyes and
leaned forward, running his tongue along the blade.  He groaned
appreciatively.

I was in love.

I had began to recognize my feelings for Xander for what they were when his
little game with the Slayer started, but when he licked her blood off of the
knife, I knew at that moment. . .I was in love with him.

I couldn't stand it anymore.  I didn't care what anyone thought.  Somehow, I
didn't think Xander or Spike would mind, and I could have given a fuck about
what Buffy and Riley thought.  I unzipped my pants and sighed unnecessarily,
releasing my throbbing cock.  I needed release. . .had to have it.

Xander turned at the sound of the zipper, grinning like a goofy fool.  He
came over to me and dropped to his knees, taking the head of my cock into
his mouth without warning.  I groaned as his tongue flicked along the slit,
teasing me.  He pulled away, his eyes filled with desire, love, adoration,
and complete and utter evil.  He ran the flat edge of the blade along his
shoulder, causing the blood to smear across his skin.  He leaned up towards
me.  "For you," he purred.

I purred and leaned forward, licking the blood off of his shoulder.  It was
some of the best blood I'd ever tasted. . .and the fact I was licking it off
of Xander's skin. . .my cock throbbed and hardened even more.

He grabbed my face and kissed me hard, fangs and all, his tongue claiming
me, possessing me.  I shivered under his touch - I was amazed this mere
mortal was affecting me like this.  William didn't even affect me this much.
. .

I could hear Buffy whimpering in pain, sounding so delicious.  It was
exquisite.  Riley was threatening death to all of us, and Spike was whining
that he wanted to taste 'the sodden' Slayer's blood too.'

Xander pulled away.  "All in due time, Spikey.  All in due time.  She's got
plenty of blood. . .you'll get to enjoy it."  He went back to Buffy and
grinned maniacally.  "Ready for a little more pain, Slayer?"

Forty-five minutes and two of my own earth shuddering orgasms later, Buffy
hung limp and naked, bleeding from various cuts.  Her petite body was
turning the most beautiful shade of purple and blue where Xander had
repeatedly punched her.

I knew she had a couple of broken bones, bruised (if not broken) ribs, a
swollen eye, busted lip, and the many cuts she had would get infected if she
didn't get first aid on them.  I was honestly and completely in love with
Xander, amazed at the torture he had inflicted on this slip of a girl.  I
had never seen her so beaten.  I hadn't even gotten to her like Xander did.
He caused her body *and* her emotions pain, telling her how she didn't pay
attention to him, and it was *her* fault that he was the man she saw before
her.  By the time he was finished, the bitch was apologizing for everything
she'd ever done to him, and begging him for forgiveness, begging for him to
let her go.

I could see that the evil was receding, that he was growing tired of his
game, and restless.  He kept glancing at me, at my hardening cock and
licking his lips.  He wanted to take me, probably right there in front of
the bitch.  I wouldn't have minded.

I knew he'd let her go soon.

Buffy would live, there wasn't any doubt about that.  The cuts on her body
were small, designed to hurt like a bitch, but not cause problems.  If she
got attention to the gash in her stomach quick enough, she'd be fine.  I
think he avoided all major organs. . .on purpose, if I knew the evilness of
my lover's heart.

"What is it they say?" he asked softly, studying the blood caked on the
dagger.  "When one Slayer dies, another is called forward?"

My eyes widened, just as Buffy's did.  I leaned forward.  He wasn't. . .he
couldn't.  He was going to kill his best friend?

"BUFFY!" Riley screamed, still struggling.

"BLOODY HELL!" Spike growled, picking up one of my metal candleholders.  He
slammed it against Riley's head, effectively shutting the asshole up.  Spike
dropped to his knees, crying out in agony.  Oh, yea, I was going to get that
chip removed as soon as possible.

Xander went to Spike and helped him up.  "Are you ok?" he asked concerned.

Spike blinked at him.  "Sorry, pet, I know you wanted him to watch, but he
was annoying me."

Xander grinned goofily.  "That's ok, he was getting on my nerves too."  He
walked back to Buffy and smiled.

Spike sat next to me with a sigh.  "Bloody hell, you've found your perfect
match," he said softly.

"Yea," I replied, watching Xander.

"Now," Xander said.  "One is killed, another is called.  I hope she gives my
regards to Giles and the demons on the Hellmouth."  With an insane grin, and
the flick of a wrist, my lover slit the Slayer's throat.

She gurgled "Why?" before collapsing into death's waiting arms.

Xander turned, smiling at us.  "Have at her, boys.  There should be plenty
of blood for you."  He glanced over at Riley.  "Take care of him too.  He
annoys the fuck out of me."  He came over to the couch and pushed us away
from it, lying down.  "I'm going to take a nap."

With that, my lover rolled over and went to sleep.

I glanced at Spike, both of us in game face.  We were on the Slayer faster
than anyone could have ever seen.

Oh yea, I was *so* in love with Xander Harris.

{End Angel's POV}

*~*~*~*

"Are you ok, pet?"

Of course, I was ok, Spike.  And why the hell were you calling me 'pet'?  I
didn't think Angelus would like that very much.

I really wanted to say all of that.  However, the sound that came out of my
mouth was something more along the lines of, "Ugg."

I was trying to pull myself out of that deep kind of sleep, you know, the
one where you feel like nothing in the world could ever pull you out of that
slow hazy feeling you felt?

"I'm. . .fine, Spike," Willow answered.  "Xander. . .did this?"

Oh, so Spike was talking to Willow.  Ok.  That made more sense.  The whole
'pet' reference.  I sighed softly and started to slip back into
unconsciousness when something hit me.

Xander did *what*?

What stupid thing did I do this time?  I'd already given myself to a Master
Vampire, then fell in love with him.  What more could I do?

"It was bloody intoxicating, pet.  I realize that you can't fully comprehend
how. . .erotic it was to watch him. . .but it was.  Angelus tossed off
throughout the whole deal, and I was hard myself."

I shuddered.  Whatever I did turned Spike on?  What the hell could I have
done that would have turned Spike on?  I could feel my face burning with
embarrassment at the thought of what I did that could turn on two vampires.
I know they got off on pain and death. . .

A sliver of a memory surfaced.  Hazel eyes looking up at me in terror.  As
soon as I reached out to pull it close and examine it, it was gone.  Hmm.
Oh, well.  Must not have been too important.

I turned over, stretching.  I didn't remember lying down on the couch. .
.the last thing I remembered was punching Buffy, then my world went black.
Riley must have hit me over the head or something.  I wouldn't be surprised
if Angelus killed Riley.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking at the harsh light.

Hmm.  That was odd.  There was a pair of knees in front of me.  Knees
attached to some very bloody looking legs.  My head tilted and I traveled
up, growing paler by the second.  Angelus' latest torture victim was naked -
I wasn't surprised - and was covered with blood and bruises.  I met dead
hazel eyes, blonde hair caked with blood.

Buffy!

I jumped up and back, scrambling over the couch.  Buffy was shackled up to
the ceiling, limp, bloody, and *dead*!

Buffy was dead!

Angelus killed Buffy!

Willow approached me carefully, cooing softly at me.  I frowned.  "Why are
you treating me like a wounded animal?" I asked.

"Xander," she said softly, like she was trying not to arouse anger in me or
something.  "Are you ok?"

"Yea. . ." I said.  "But Buffy's. . .I mean. . .she's sorta dead.  Hanging
in our living room.  Dead."  I frowned.  "I should be sad right now, right?
I mean, I should totally be crying and cursing my lover because of what he
did, all the injustices he's done, and all that, right?  Why don't I feel
sad for her, Willow?"  I hugged myself tightly.  Somehow, the fact that I
*wasn't* sad that someone I'd considered a best friend for six years was
dead bothered more than her naked cold body hanging from the ceiling did.

"If I touch you, are you going to hurt me?" Willow asked, stepping closer.

I looked at her, like she was crazy.  "Wills," I whispered, the hurt in my
voice.  "I would never hurt you.  How could you think that I would hurt
 you?"

She reached me, wrapping her arms around me.  I hugged her tightly, resting
my cheek on the top of her head.  She fit into my arms perfectly.  If I didn
't love Angelus, and she didn't love Spike. . .no, I wouldn't.  Wills and me
were too good for that road.

She started crying softly.

"Baby," I purred, purposely not looking at Buffy's body.  "I know Buffy's
death is going to be hard for you. . ."

She looked up at me with glassy emerald eyes.  She was beautiful with that
look of suffering on her face.

Wha-?  Where the hell did that thought come from?  I didn't like it when
Willow cried!  I didn't want to see her hurt!

But the way her eyes were shining with unshed tears. . .the way her mouth
tilted into that frown. . .I pushed her away roughly, not understanding why
looking at her pain filled face was making me hard.

"Xander!" she gasped.

"I. . .I can't. . .I can't look at you," I said, turning.  "It. . .it's not
right.  Not this feeling I have."

I heard Spike move to Willow.  I could feel their eyes on my back, and the
hairs on my neck stood straight up.  I heard growling, wondering
absentmindedly where Angelus was and why he was growling.

And then I realized it was me.

"Oh my god," I exclaimed.  "I'm growling!"  I turned, hissing at them.
"Stop looking at me!"

Spike studied me curiously.  "Xander, why are you aroused?"

"It's her!" I waved my hand at Willow.  "It's those big glassy eyes and that
look of sadness on her face!  It's making me hard!"  I crossed my arms
angrily.  "Why?"  I frowned.  "Why is that making me feel that way?"  My
last sentence was whispered, spoken sadly.

Spike's words were slow and cautious.  "A vampire tends to get aroused by a
human's suffering. . ." he said softly.

My hand flew to my neck.  My pulse was still there, thudding along in my
neck.  "I have a heartbeat.  I'm *not* a vampire!"

"But you are the Mate to one, Xander," Spike said.

"So!" I cried.  "That doesn't explain anything!  Willow is your Mate!  She
doesn't get off on other people's pain!"

Spike sighed unnecessarily.  "Maybe. . .maybe it has something to do with
the darkness inside of you, pet."

I narrowed my eyes.  "Wills has that darkness.  I've seen the vampire
version of her.  I know what she's capable of.  She doesn't get off on other
people's pain."

"He's right," Willow said quietly.  "I don't."  She frowned, looking down.
"What could it be?"

"I know what it is."

His voice hummed along my skin like cool lips, making goosebumps stand up on
my flesh.  I ached to be in his arms, under his body, feeling the pain he
gave me.

"What, Angelus?" I asked, not turning around, not looking at him.

"Willow has the darkness inside of her, but she can contain it better.  You'
ve had a violent background that she didn't experience."

"Ok," I said, nodding.  "My parents were bastards.  So now I get off on
other people's pain?"

Angelus was to me in an instant, pressing his body against my back, licking
the shell of my ear.  His hand traveled around my body and cupped my
erection, massaging it through my jeans.  I moaned softly, catching Willow's
wide eyes.  They were filled with shock and. . .lust?  Did my little Willow
get off on the thought of Angelus and me together?

That was an interesting idea.

I closed my eyes.  Angelus was being gentle.  Too gentle.  "What else?" I
moaned.  "What else is it?  There's got to be more than because my parents
suck."

"It's something to do with our bond.  Your darkness feeds off of me, as
Willow's feeds of off Spike's.  Spike's been chipped.  He's not as violent
as he used to be. . .though that will change, and Willow will change with
it.  I'm still the same bastard I've always been.  Probably even crueler,
now that I've been in captivity so damn long.  I have years of suffering to
make up for," Angelus whispered in my ear, his forced breath making me
harder.

"Did you enjoy it?" I asked softly, thrusting into his hand and his gentle
ministrations. "Did you enjoy killing her?"  I saw the scene in my mind,
Buffy begging for her life, Angelus destroying her. . .I surged against him,
turned on incredibly at the thought that my lover killed the Slayer.

Angelus chuckled, slowly unzipping my jeans.  I sprung free and he began to
run his hand up and down my length.  I struggled to open my eyes, to see
what Willow's reaction would be.  A small smile crossed my face when I
realized that she was watching me with half lidded desire filled eyes.
Spike was latched at her neck, and had his own hand down the front of her
jeans.  I could tell she was having trouble standing up.  "Wills," I
chuckled.

She moaned softly.  "Goddess," she whispered breathlessly.

Angelus' next words pulled me away from watching Spike pleasure Willow.  "I
didn't kill the Slayer, Xander."

I frowned slightly, his gentle hand on my dick momentarily forgotten.  If he
didn't kill her, then who did?  Spike?  Must have been Spike, but. . .  I
glanced over at Buffy and knew that she went through some serious torture
before she died.  Spike had his chip.  He couldn't do that to anyone.  His
little blonde English head would probably pop off.

Who else was left there that could have killed her?

**Now. . .one is killed, another is called.  I hope she gives my regards to
Giles and the demons on the Hellmouth. . .**

That was my voice.  That was me!  I said that!  I remembered saying that.
And when I closed my eyes and remembered saying that, I looked down, seeing
the hand holding the knife that slit Buffy's throat.

The knife that I was holding in my hand.

*I* killed Buffy.

Oh.  My.  God.

I killed Buffy!

"Oh, god," I whispered, realization of the last few hours washing over me,
the memories as clear as day.  I leaned my head back on Angelus' shoulder
and shuddered, exploding.  I came all over his hand and everywhere.

I had killed Buffy.  And I just got off on that thought.

I was breathing heavily, trying to pinpoint one of the millions of different
thoughts and emotions running through my body.  I killed Buffy.  I didn't
feel sad, nor did I feel remorse.  She was going to kill Angelus.  It was
either her, or him.

I chose my lover.

Come on.  You would have done the same.

I loved Angelus.  I didn't love Buffy.  Not that way.  She was a friend, but
even then, she wasn't Willow.  I would never hurt Willow, could never hurt
her.  However, I didn't feel bad about Buffy.  She was threatening my
family.  She had it coming.  I knew that if I didn't stop her, then she
would have stopped him.

And I wasn't going to let anyone stop my lover.  Ever.

To Be Continued...

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