True Innocent

by
BmblBee

Part Twenty-Six

Spike had hoped to make it at least as far as the state line of California before they stopped for the day.

Yawning, he noted the huge, looming "Welcome To California" sign and immediately began scanning for a motel.
With a little extra money in his pocket, he wanted to find somewhere really nice for his boy's reward. Besides, once he had the dreaded talk with his own sire, things may be drastically different. He wanted today to be memorable, special.

Xander had sat happily in the seat next to him gently running his hand over the front of his new tee. He had pointed out and named each of the animals several times, always growling when he got to the camel.

It was a story Spike would pry out of him later. Or not. He had kept Bessie tucked snugly under his arm as he counted and recounted the different species of animal as it climbed the long gang plank into the boat. He studied the face of the old man holding the staff and commented sadly, only once, how much it had looked like his own father.

With daybreak less than an hour away, Spike pulled the DeSoto into a circular drive and waited while a young man darted forward to park her for them. "Checking in Sir?" He rushed over, opened Spike's door and handed him a claim check. "Luggage?"

Spike took the ticket and climbed out while Xander, Bessie in tow, did the same on the other side. "Nope. No luggage."

"Yes, Sir." The boy jumped behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb. He had seen a lot since working here and two men checking into a room at seven in the morning with no bags wasn't even a blip on his radar. Especially if the tip was good and Spike had already slipped him a five spot.

Spike left Xander in the center of the lobby to openly gape at the domed, stained glass ceiling while he checked in.

The woman behind the counter did her best to bat her eyes, pucker her lips and stick out her chest, all to no avail. Spike was not tempted which amazed even him. In the old days he would have fucked her and gotten the room, with breakfast, for free. Now he was just as happy to pay and be left alone with his childe.

When he had the key in hand, he retrieved his gobsmacked boy and headed for the elevators. Fifth floor and the room stunned even him. Huge, with what seemed like a double king size bed, the only other thing that dominated the room was the 48" HD tv the hung on the opposite wall like a mural.

"Wow! Sire! Is this my reward? My prize for finding you? Not that I don't think this is great and really the shirt and pants were enough, I just thought....."

Spike peeled off the precious black duster and tossed it on the chair. He secured the heavy brocade drapes that hung at the windows and blocked a glorious view of the city below. Slowly and purposefully he started popping the buttons on the fly front of his snug black jeans. "Nope. Your prize is me. You're gonna stick that big, thick, delicious cock of yours deep in my tight little ass. You're gonna fuck me till neither one of us can walk straight. You up for that boy?"

Xander let out one short little whimper before whipping off the beloved tee and matching sweat pants. Bessie went flying, landing on the end of the soft, huge bed. His cock stood proud and leaking, ready and very much up for it. He lurched forward, his hands outstretched, his fingers flexing, grasping and not knowing where to touch first. "What do I do? I mean if you're really sure. Yeah, I could do that. Do we need slick? You got slick? I think I'm gonna need slick."

Spike laughed. "Calm down boy, your sire ain't going anywhere."

Handing him the lotion from the night stand, Spike closed the gap between them. He held the back of the boy's head as he sealed their mouths together in a promising, loving kiss.

Xander loved to kiss his sire. It filled a need in him apart and separate from the sex. It was a physical connection that was very much frowned upon in the community, even among the married. He coudn't imagine why. It felt so wonderful. He sighed as sire's tongue slipped in and moved around his mouth.

His hips rocked as the kiss deepened and their cocks touched and bounced off each other. Finally Spike pulled back and looked into the dazed passion filled face. "You ready?"

Xander nodded, never taking his eyes off Spike's luscious pink swollen lips.

"Since this is your first time, we're gonna do this as simply as possible, o.k?"

Again Xander's head bobbed up and down. Turning around, Spike bent over with his hands on the edge of the bed and his firm round ass tipped high in the air. He spread his legs and handed the lotion back to Xander between them.

When nothing happened, Spike knew this was going to have to be step by step. "Pull me open, Xander. Touch my hole."

Xander did as he was told. He shuffled forward and with shaky hands separated the firm globes to reveal the pink, wrinkled opening. He gently rubbed his finger over it and smiled as it winked and flexed. He knew that feeling.

"Now put some lotion on it and on yourself. Get everything nice and slippery."

Xander held the cheeks open with one hand and, aiming the bottle directly at the hole, squeezed. The lotion flew out in a huge, dripping, cold blob that proceeded to run down coating even Spike's heavy, swinging sac. It covered everything and dribbled to the carpet.

"Dang, sorry, sorry. I got too much."

"Shhh. It's all right. It feels good. Rub your cock in it. Slide your stuff around in the crack of my ass till it's all covered and wet."

Xander groaned and followed orders. His cock nestled itself between Spike's cheeks and he started moving. Humping and sliding, his cock slid down and quickly fit itself between Spike's legs, the head bumping the back of Spike's balls on each thrust. He knew if he didn't stop him, Xander would soon cum just from that.

On the next thrust Spike reached between his legs and caught the cock, holding it firmly. "Get me ready, boy. You know what to do. Slide your fingers in and work them around till you open me up. Put at least four fingers in me or that big horse cock of your's will never fit."

With the seriousness of taking a math test in school, Xander spread the slick thickly on his fingers and began to slowly insert them. Spike dropped his head and moaned. He had forgotten how good that could feel when it wasn't forced. He started rocking his body. Moving back and forth with the steady slide of the fingers fucking him.

Breathlessly, Spike stopped him. He stepped his feet even further apart and rested his upper body on his elbows. "That's enough. Do it. Please Xander, push your cock in me now."

Xander was stunned. He had never heard sire sound so wanton. He had never heard sire beg him.

After smearing even more lotion on his rock hard cock, Xander lined it up and pushed. It slipped, sliding down between Spike's legs in the excessive lotion that it swam in.

"Try again, Xander. Hold it in place till the head goes in."

Doing as he was told, the heavy cockhead popped through and both men groaned at the feel. When he made no further move, Spike slammed his hips back forcing the cock balls deep in his body. That was all the encouragement needed and Xander's instinct took over.

He thrust deep and hard, riding his sire like a prize stallion. The perfect angle allowed Spike's very happy prostate a pounding he hadn't known in years. Gripping himself tightly, Spike began to stroke.

The wet slap, slap, slap of balls on skin was the harmony to the sex song whose words were "Yeah, Yeah, oh fuck yeah. Harder, faster, deeper. Yeah, so good."

Surprisingly, Spike's sac was the first to feel the tingle and draw up painfully tight to his body. "That's it, hell yeah, just like that. Fuck, Xander, I'm gonna........"

Xander's hips stopped their movement when he felt his sire's body jerk. The squeeze and ripple of the inner walls was the final straw. Four more deep slow thrusts in and Xander's body gave up the same bone rattling orgasm that his sire was still coming down from.

Spike felt like his bowels were full to overflowing with lotion and cum. As Xander eased out it ran down his legs and formed a puddle on the expensive oriental carpet.

Quickly, as his sire often did for him, Xander grabbed a towel and cleaned Spike up. Still in their reverse positions, Xander threw back the covers, settled Spike in, and spooned him from behind as they both smiled and dozed off.

Bessie cuddled Xander from behind and the sun rose over the horizon.

Part Twenty-Seven

It was a perfect day in California. One of those rare days when the sun barely showed itself. Dark, gloomy and heavily overcast, the rain fell at a steady pace from sun up till nearly sun down.

It was the sort of day that even the living wanted to spend in bed. It was the best kind of day for the undead who slept, curled up tightly together, and lulled by the sound of the huge drops as they pounded against the window pane.

Consciousness eased in slowly, pulling Spike from the depths of a dream he could hardly remember past the image of his boy stretched out on a Thanksgiving table with an apple in his mouth. He chuckled, stretched, and glanced over at his love, still curled up and tucked under his arm, Bessie at his side.

Spike scratched his head and yawned. He arched his back and felt each vertebrae as it clicked and snapped into place. California. They were back in the sunshine state, no, wait, that was Florida. He wasn't sure what California was called, but he knew one thing, it was probably going to be trouble.

He felt conflicted. Part of him wanted to stay right where they were, cuddled, happy, and content. The rest of him was anxious. He needed to know. He had to have answers to the questions that haunted him about his childe. He never thought he would hear himself say it again, but he needed his sire. He needed to go see Angel. No matter how it affected their relationship together in the future, he needed the truth.

Lost in thought, Spike wasn't aware that his childe had woken up, not until Xander threw his leg over and rolled his body to lie flat on top of his sire.

"Morning Sire. Sure was a good night last night wasn't it? I thought it was maybe one of the best I have ever had." The whole time he was talking, his body was starting to move, to roll, to hump. With their matching erections still wet from the excessive amount of lotion used earlier, they slid, slipped and rubbed against each other deliciously.

Conversation forgotten, Xander propped himself up on his hands and using his weight and hips he ground himself against the heavy cock below him. The angle let him watch as the purple leaking heads moved against each other, offering friction and feel.

Spike laid back, hands under his head and let his boy do all the work. It was erotic to watch.

Xander's strong, muscular upper body straining as it supported and moved him. His beautiful gentle face contorted in concentrated passion. The sight of their full, hardened cocks working their way towards sweet release. The smell of them, musky, heady, masculine.

It was wonderful. It was quick. It swept up and carried them both to teeth jarring orgasms followed by Xander collapsing his heavy body down on top of his sire with a graceless, "Ompf!"

After giving him a minute, Spike shoved at the limp body that was stretched out on top of him. "Move yer flabby arse. Ya big moose. We need to get movin' boy. Places to go, people to see." Spike pried himself out from under the sleepy, protesting moose and headed for the shower.

After a quick wash, concentrating on his ass, Spike returned to find his boy sitting on the edge of the bed, new sweats and tee in hand.

"My clothes are gone. The shirt and britches my mama made me. It was the last thing I had from home." He looked up as the tears ran down his face.

Spike sat down beside him and tugged him close. "I know, Xan, but they were ruined. There was no way we could have
gotten the smell out of them. Tell you what, how about if I buy you a pair of black jeans just like mine. Plain, simple, and modest. Then you can be just like your sire. O.k?"

Xander threw his arms around Spike's neck and gave him a big kiss. "I can keep the tee can't I? I just love the animals, even if it is sinfully colorful. You always know just what to do to make me feel better. You must be the smartest sire in the whole vampire world."

Xander jumped up, grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Gotta wash the yuck off my willy. Won't be but a second."

Spike just laughed and shook his head but when he heard the water in the shower kick on the humor disappeared. He picked up the phone and dialed information. Using the scratch pad provided, Spike jotted down both the address and the phone number of the Hyperion Hotel. By the time they got to LA he would have a plan, he just wasn't sure yet what it would be.

Leaving the hotel, Spike was glad to see the rain had stopped. The air smelled clean and felt warm and damp. He handed the parking lot boy another five in exchange for his car and keys and they were again on the road.

Remembering his promise, Spike whipped off the road and into the first Walmart parking lot he could find, which wasn't difficult since they seemed to be on more corners than even McDonalds was. "No time to browse, love. You wait here. I'll snatch..um..buy you some pants and we'll be truckin' on." Before Xander could protest or question, Spike was briskly sailing through the automatic glass doors and out of sight.

Xander just shrugged and continued to fuss with Bessie's wrinkled bow tie.

Within a matter of minutes he was back. He pulled the pants out of his coat and tossed them to his childe. "Here put these on."

Spike jumped behind the wheel and the car roared to life. He stomped his foot down on the gas pedal and the car screeched, tires spinning, and black smoke rolling.

Twisting and flopping around with his pants, Xander noticed out the back window that three men were running out of Walmart, yelling and waving their fists in the air. He wondered what it meant. "Um, Sire, I think these are too tight. I should have tried them on. Momma always made me try on my pants when she sewed them."

Spike reached over and squeezed his boy's thigh in the snug pants. Running his hand up the seam he cupped his package and pressed the heel of his hand against the hardening length. "I think your Momma and I were looking for different things when it comes to your pants. I think they're fucking fantastic. Shows off your strong, firm legs and ass, and just look at that cock. Makes my mouth water it does. No, I think they're just right."

Xander dropped his head and smiled as he blushed a deep pink. He didn't think he would ever get used to the prideful things sire could make him feel.

Satisfied, Spike sat back and drove. He reached in one pocket and fished out an unopened pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He felt around in another till he found the chocolate bar he then tossed to his boy.

Yup, that fuckin' Walmart had everything. They'd have to shop there more often.

Part Twenty-Eight

"So what are we going to do in the city, sire?"

Spike never took his eyes off the road. It was a question that he had been expecting for some time. He was actually surprised that it had not come up before this.

Pausing to give himself time to think, he fiddled with the dial on the car radio, ran his hands lovingly around the leather cover of the steering wheel and finally took a deep breath, deciding that truth, or at least part of it, was the best answer. "We're going to do what everyone does in a big city, love. Live, so to speak. LA has a waterfront full of abandoned warehouses. Perfect condo complex for a vampire community, and the docks provide an unlimited supply of happy meals on legs. We are going to make a place for ourselves and I am going to teach you everything a childe needs to know to become a strong vampire. You've already proven yourself to be exceptional back there in the zoo, you just need to learn technique. As a master vampire, and your sire, I can teach you everything you need to know. Remember, rule one in the vampire handbook says 'always obey your sire. Especially if he is a master vampire'."

Xander sat silently, appearing to absorb all this and accept it unquestioningly. After all, his sire had been right about everything so far. When he finally did speak, it was with only one question.

"When do I get to read this handbook, Sire? I think I could learn faster if I could see the book. I finished grade eight so I'm a very good reader."

Spike sputtered, caught off guard at the request. "Oh, um, well, I think I lost the copy I had, but maybe we can pick one up later. Amazon.com maybe. Anyway, when we arrive we may have to go places and do things that you don't understand, but it's important that you trust me without challenge, can you do that?"

Xander turned his head to watch out the window. His sire's comment was more of a declaration than a question and Xander didn't feel like it really required an answer. It was what his father had called rhetorical when he gave an order and did not want a response.

The night sky was clear. The rain clouds had drifted away and the stars shone bright, floating high overhead alongside the fingernail shaped sliver of moon. Xander watched out the tinted, smoke coated glass as they roared on. He had a funny feeling in his tummy. Much like the one after he ate all those snacks.

He had felt this way back home sometimes. It had confused him when he was very young and first started happening. Everything would be wonderful, then for no reason the black cloud tummy feeling would come over him. The first couple times he would run to his mother complaining of a sick tummy. She asked him if he ate too many green apples or drank too much milk. Either way, her cure was the same. Two tablespoons of castor oil.

He quickly learned that the feeling had nothing to do with what he ate or the regularity of his bowels. Within just a few hours something very bad would happen. A calf would die, a horse come up lame, a relative pass. In the beginning he wondered if he caused the trouble with the bad feeling. If maybe he was cursed and things that happened were his fault, but he had prayed on it and asked for forgiveness and guidance.

His prayer was answered with clarity one day when the dark cloud had come over him so quickly and with such strength that it nearly crippled him. Rushing to his mother for comfort he found her passed out on the floor and the wood stove open and burning. After extinguishing the flame, he revived her. The doctor that came said she was all right, just exhausted and needed a rest.

His father hugged him and said what a lucky chance it was that Xander had come to the house just then or the kitchen might have caught fire and mother may have been burned.

That was when he understood. The dread, the bad tummy feel was not a curse, it was a gift. It was sent to him, through him, to help. It had seemed an odd malfunction that the feeling had not come to him in the least before his own death, but, he decided, God's will was not to be questioned.

He had talked to Willow about it. He knew she would understand because of her own special gift. His was nothing like the size, strength or power of her's but it made him feel closer to her.

Entering the city limits, he noticed that their direction did not seem to be random. Xander watched as several times they would slow at a street corner then purposefully turn right or left. He trusted sire, but didn't think he was getting all the truth. Sire was headed somewhere, destination predetermined, but wouldn't say where or why. Xander was certain of one thing though, it was not in search of some unspecified warehouse. Sire wanted to see the dark angel. Xander worried that this was what they searched for.

Xander sighed. All this was so strange. So unsettling. He missed the farm, the animals, his family, and the security and knowledge of what his life was. He stared up at the twinkling shapes above and wondered what his sister was doing and if she ever thought of him.

Lost in his own plans and thoughts, Spike took Xander's silence as agreement and he went on to plot out the best method of getting what he wanted from his bastard of a sire without a repeat of their last meeting.

~*~*~*~*~

Angel paced restlessly. He could feel Spike as soon as he entered the state. The feeling had grown stronger with each mile and his curiosity had peaked with the question of why he was coming willingly toward a sire he claimed to hate.

He growled low in his throat at the thought that he was accompanied by a whelp. An intruder to the family. It wasn't that he cared that Spike had made a childe it was just that as head of the clan, Angel should have been the one to pick him out, drain him, approve him, and possibly break him in.

It was just presumptuous of Spike to take all that upon himself.

Of course things were different now. Angel was sure Spike was not aware of his sire's new position as savior of the city. Spike never did show the proper amount of respect for the soul Angel carried in his back pocket and waved around when the benefit presented itself.

It was the primary reason he'd left Sunnydale and Buffy behind. He could not really be himself there. Too much baggage. But here in the city he could spread his wings and really be the hero that he was destined to be. He had a base, the Hyperion, a purpose, humbly save the world, and best of all his own set of flunkies, um, minions, um, toadies. Friends to their faces.

Collectively they worshiped him, ran his day time errands and generally served as Igor to his Dracula. He hadn't actually fucked any of them yet, but he had his eye on Wesley maybe even Gunn. Hell, maybe Wesley and Gunn if he worked them just right. He was no longer shackled by a watcher or slayer that didn't understand the magnificence that was his soul.

It was just becoming a really good set up. Now out of the blue here comes his wayward childe. Angel reached down and adjusted his half hard cock in it's silk boxer nest. It was just like that little shit to show up and distract him. Tempt him and lead him astray with a teasing shift of the hips or a lick of his pink soft lips.

Angel paced the lobby of the dusty, abandoned hotel that now served as his office and home. Back and forth. Back and forth. He knew whatever the reason he wouldn't have long to wait. Spike was so near he could almost smell him.

Part Twenty-Nine

Spike had the directions and address to the Hyperion Hotel stamped firmly in his brain. After obtaining the street number from the information operator, he had stayed up late, long after his childe had gone to sleep, and looked it up on the map page of the telephone directory in the hotel room.

A task made more difficult by the fact that some bitch of a room maid had stacked the phone books under the room bible and he had burnt his finger tips twice trying to slip it out. Cursing and hissing he swore that the fuckin' cunt would get no tip from him. Yeah, he was still evil.

He wondered if that type of shit was done on purpose. He often thought a good vampire discrimination lawsuit would make them sit up and take notice. Fuckin' pricks. Johnny Cochran was now among the undead. Maybe when this was all over he would give him a call. Spike immediately reconsidered and shuddered. That was just too fuckin' evil.

Aiming the DeSoto down another one way street, Spike checked the street sign on the corner post and made a left. He had been to Los Angeles several times but that had been years ago. Still, it helped. He knew the address was in an older part on the outskirts of the city. A part of town where the original city's founding fathers had built mansions, temples where they could show off and worship their great wealth and social status.

Over the years as wars, depressions, and economic shifts had claimed and changed their situations, the ones who got
richer moved to create better areas and the buildings and residents that hadn't faired as well financially were left behind. Some of the structures survived as homes, most were converted to hotels or chopped up into low rent apartments, sleeping rooms, or even abandoned squats for the homeless.

What had, at one time, been the best part of town, the snobs knob, was now one of the worst. Spike could see how Angel felt right at home here.

Slowing the car to a crawl, Spike watched the house numbers that were painted on the curbs. He had all but forgotten about the childe that sat fearfully and sadly beside him. Finally he saw it. 8327. The curb it was stenciled on was chipped and crumbling, but the numbers clear and obviously, freshly painted.

Pulling over, he stopped and shut off the engine. Looking out the window he saw it. Huge, gloomy, it sat far back off the road and high on a hill. Run down, it looked as though it hadn't been lived in for over a hundred years. The window shutters were crooked and the roof needed work, but none of that meant Jack Squat to Spike because the only thing that stood out, what really caught his attention, was the fact that through the shredded lace curtains hanging at the windows, the lights were on.

"Why are we here, Demon? What is this place?"

Spike jumped. Startled by the soft voice of his childe and concerned by his choice of words and tone. Xander had stopping calling him demon days ago, preferring the loving title of Sire. He still refused to use Spike's real name, but both suspected it was now done more out of humor than defiance. Now he was back to demon, and the tone was suspicious, fearful.

Turning in his seat, Spike cupped Xander's face in both his hands and forced his attention. The time for explanation had come. If this was to go badly, Xander needed to be prepared. "Listen to me, childe. We're here so I can see my own sire. Before we're free to start our lives together there are some questions I need him to answer."

Xander went rigid. He pulled back, clutching Bessie tightly. "NO! He hurt you. I hate him. Is that why you came to him? Do you like it when he hurts you? Do you want him instead of me?" Xander recalled his own night in the house in the woods and the painful pleasure his sire had given him. He was confused. His pain had not caused his body any damage and his sire only seemed concerned that he enjoy his release. It wasn't at all like what the dark angel had done. That was mean. It was an attack that felt like hate and left no joy or pleasure behind.

They had never spoken about either night, but even Xander knew the difference.

Still, he knew how he felt about his own sire. He would do anything for his sire. He would die for his sire if he wasn't already dead. Maybe that was the way sire felt about the dark one.

Spike was shocked that Xander would even entertain such a ridiculous thought. He realized that by not being honest, by being secretive, he had planted the seeds of fear and suspicion in his boy's head and his mistake made him ashamed. "Xander, Childe, no. I may feel a bond of blood to the big fuckin' jerk, but there is no affection. No love or devotion. You are my only one. You are the one I chose and the one I will never willingly part from."

Xander relaxed slightly. He could feel the sincerity and the honesty in his sire's words, still the feeling, the ache in his tummy that signaled the coming of the bad, would not ease up.

Spike squeezed Xander's hand and continued. "Now listen to me. We are going to go up there together. Do you
remember what the first rule in the vampire handbook is?"

Xander nodded his head causing his hair to flop wildly. "Yes, Sir. It is "always obey your sire."

Spike ran his hand lovingly up and down the boy's arm. "That's right. And do you remember all the things I told you in the zoo?"

Xander's brow wrinkled in concentration as he tried to recall all the rules he had been given that ultimately had saved his skin and helped him prove himself. Sitting up straighter, Xander's face broke out in a smile and he answered proudly.
"I remember. I know them all. I will make you proud, Sire. I won't let you down."

Spike pulled the boy to him and wrapped him in a tight hug, Bessie squeezed flatly between them. Leaning back just slightly Spike ran his hand over Xander's face, looked him in the eye, then kissed him deeply. It was a kiss that told them both everything they felt in their hearts, and that nothing that happened in that house would change that.

"I love you Childe. Always you. Only you."

Xander settled Bessie comfortably on the seat between them and with a tear in is eye reached for the door handle. "I love you too, Sire. I still don't understand why we are here, but I trust you, so let's do this and get it over with."

Without another word, both men emerged from the car and started walking toward the long circular, weed covered drive way.

Part Thirty

Hand in hand they started the long walk up the urban mountain to the house on the hill. It was a spooky, gloomy mansion that could have easily been used as the setting for the tv Adams Family. It was much too rundown for the Munsters. Lily and Marilyn had better taste.

The driveway, or what was left of it, was cracked cement containing more pot holes and weeds than smooth surface. The tall grass along the sides reminded Xander of the lower pasture that was cut for hay. But he knew this mess was even too late for that. It had already gone to seed. A situation he was sure the dark angel was totally unconcerned with.

Coming around the bend at the top of the hill, Spike noted that the drive led around to a courtyard at the rear of the property. If they continued to it's end they would be in an underground garage. One that suited a sun allergic vampire perfectly, although he was certain it's original purpose was designed to meet the comforts of rich patrons who would be met by shuffling, humble valets.

Spike had no intention of allowing them to be trapped in an area he had not checked and secured. As it turned out. He didn't need to.

The rear area of the hotel must have, at one time, been magnificent. Every bit as large as a city park, it had fountains, benches, statues of dancing naked women and muscular Greek influenced men. It's winding, twisting walkways allowed gentlemen and ladies of the time a private secluded area to stroll leisurely, passing the idle time of the rich.

Even neglect and disarray could not hide the potential of serenity that it contained.

Both men stopped at the edge of the forgotten garden. Pausing by the tangled nest of thorns that had once been carefully tended rose bushes, they scanned the area. Xander was gawking openly at the hint of opulence while Spike scanned for danger.

Neither spotted the huge, looming figure that stayed hidden in the darkness watching, waiting. Angel was shocked to see who the newest member of his family was. He shook his head at the realization that his stupid childe had made a vampire out of a slow witted farm boy with a witch for a sister. 'Jesus H. Christ.' he thought. 'Why not just pick a nun to turn? Oh, wait a minute...........'

Just as Spike leaned in close to whisper a caution to his childe the voice from the darkness startled them both.

"Why are you here Spike? Why have you brought this boy here?"

Spike froze. He couldn't believe he had been so careless to allow Angel this near without detecting him. Immediately shoving his childe behind him he swore to himself that he would protect Xander with his own body and unlife. Searching their shared spirit, Spike was somewhat surprised to find there was no fear coming from the boy, only trust, confidence and love.
Standing their ground, yet preparing for an attack, Spike and his childe stood firm, watching as the shadowy figure stepped out of his concealment and into the moonlight.

Peering around the shelter of his sire's body Xander got a good look at the man he clearly remembered from the day at his family's farm. Yes, this was him. The man who stood with the loose, shameful woman of deceit.

"Look, Angel, me and the boy here don't want no trouble. I just need some information then we'll be on our way." In one hundred and thirty years, reasoning and rationality had never been anything Angel responded to favorably, yet Spike held out hope that just this once......

Humbly hanging his head, Angel stepped closer. "So you have come to me? Your sire? Shame overwhelms me, my childe. My soul chastises me for the cruelty and injustice that I have shown you over the years. Now you come to me with a childe of your own. Why? What is it you seek from me? Revenge? Retribution? You want to exact payment for all the cruel, evil things I have done to you over the years? Well, I won't stop you. I deserve all the punishment you and yours want to bestow." Angel threw his head back and his arms out in a position that mirrored and mocked the crucifix.

Snorting, Spike was not convinced. He had seen Angel put on a thousand false faces over the years, not one had been sincere.

Sniffing the air for deceit, it was hard to sift through the emotions being felt due to the overwhelming nasal melting properties of the cheap Hai Karate aftershave Angel had apparently bathed in. He did, however feel that whatever Angel was up to there was no immediate danger and he relaxed slightly. Turning to the boy plastered up against his back, Spike kissed his temple and whispered gently, "Why don't you take a little walk around the garden, love? Me and the big oaf need to have a word or two alone."

Never taking his eyes off Angel's demure, complacent form, Xander held his sire's arm tightly. "No, I don't trust him. Please, Sire, let me stay with you."

Angel bristled. It was hard for him to stand by and watch the sickening scene in front of him. In his day, allowing a childe to question or challenge an order was simply unheard of. If Spike had done that he would have earned a flogging and rape that would have left him unable to walk for days.

Come to think of it, that was exactly what had happened. Often. Whether Spike questioned him or not. Angel smiled at the memory.

With a swat and a reassurance, Spike had sent Xander off to explore then turned to the spiky haired ass in front of him. "What the fuck are you grinning about?"

Angel stepped closer and sat down on a cement garden bench, patting the seat beside him. Spike chose instead to sit on a matching bench directly across from him on the other side of the stone walkway.

Angel batted his eyes. "Oh, just enjoying the loving, compassion you two show for each other. I regret now, that our sire child relationship could not have been so. Of course, now with the acknowledgement of my soul, I accept all responsibility for the decline of our situation."

Spike leaned back on his elbows and sucked his teeth. "Yeah, when I first woke up after being turned and you had your cock shoved up my ass, and your fangs in my throat, I guess it kinda went downhill after that."

Angel slumped, visibly crushed by the cruelty of his childe's words. "I was evil then, Spike. I allowed my demon free rein and did horrible, despicable things that now, with my soul firmly in control, I am trying to make right. That's why I have come here. I'm a new man, Spike. A humble hero. I help the helpless. Give hope to the hopeless."

Spike squinted suspiciously, his thoughts traveling to 'More like help yourself to the homeless', but he stayed silent trying to assess the honesty of the words. His first instinct was to laugh and distrust the entire situation, yet there were signs.

Looking Angel up and down, Spike noted the newly acquired docker pants and turtleneck pullover. No one evil or even fashion conscience would be caught dead, or unlive, in such an outfit. Maybe he really had changed.

Bottom line, Spike decided, he wasn't here to discuss his sire's new mission in life or his change in wardrobe. He was here to hear a story.

One only Angel could tell him.

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