After the Fall

by Josie

Copyright © 2006

josie_h@yahoo.com

Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters nor make any money from stories etc, and bow down to their original creators Joss, et al., plus all the wonderful online writers who continue to give the Buffy/Angel verse characters life.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse: http://mysticmuse.net
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=rngrdead
Feedback: Very much appreciated.
Spoilers: Post-BtVS and AtS.
Author's Notes: If you don't like boys together, don't play here! Harsh circumstances and difficult start.
Pairing: Xander/Spike

The cramp in his stomach had not eased. It seemed he had been hungry forever…

It was the backlash, the reaction to the final stand against Wolfram and Hart and the opening of the portal, the reality of the destruction of Sunnydale, the final realization that demons were real, that the other was here. The Initiative was reinstated, enhanced, empowered and enforced. A global movement like no other.

They were all rounded up, town after town, state after state, country after country. It began with simple registration. The criteria for the roundup was broad, slayers, witches, half breeds, harmless or man eaters, the more human you looked, the better your chances…First labeled then hounded, herded into areas, then forcibly removed to camps, then arbitrarily killed, downgraded to non human status. Those old enough to remember other times like this, noted it always started out the same…the 'them and us' taken to an extreme…The Crusades, the Witch hunts of Inquisition years, the Huguenots, the native Indians of the US, the aboriginals of Australia, the third Reich, the killing fields of Cambodia, the ethnic cleansing in the Slavic nations, the Rwandan Hutus wiping out the Tutsis, who really cared…anyone different, it was a human tradition in times of stress…and now it was their turn…anyone with a demon connection, but now it was driven by the ruling nations, so no one was safe on any continent.

Demons, human consorts, half breeds, relatives, sympathizers, friends…the differentiation was all encompassing. Not human in any way led to the 'killing fields'. The lucky ones were on the right, the ones they never saw again on the left.

Tranquilized, bound and transported, he woke to torture.

The threadbare sheets provided little protection against the northern winter. He felt lucky in an odd sort of a way. The same camps in Europe were rumored to be so much harsher…at least this time they had water. The ache of hunger was one thing, but lack of water was truly life threatening for the human. The lack of water had been their first lesson in torture.

Tranquilized, bound and transported, he found himself in a container on a ship to lord knew where, the tag on his chest read:

Warning: Code Blue
Status: Experiment subject
Category: Demon magnet. Possible Hostile.
Threat: Latent. Observed demon elimination and some hostility to authority
Partnerships: Slayer, Seer, Witch, Vengeance Demon, Mummy, Mantis, Vampire (suspected).
Possessions known: Hyena, Soldier
Born: Hellmouth.
Family history: Violent (abused child)
Human Skills: Carpentry, project management, demon fighting
Orientation: Probable Bisexual

He had lost sight of Dawn and Buffy on the first day, of Willow after a week. Her distress was audible in his head as she was dragged away from their compound toward yet another truck. His tears of anguish wasted precious water as they moistened the ground below his knees. There was nothing else to be done. After a day and a night of protesting, swearing and begging, his wrists were shackled to the bar that now held his ankles as well. His blissful respite was a blow induced unconsciousness.

He had been shaved, stripped, beaten, starved of food and water, and finally raped for almost a month. Now he was apparently the proud recipient of 'experimental' status.

Tranquilized, bound and transported, it was not an expected consequence that he found himself holding an armful of an old friend.

A new bunch of captives had been thrown unceremoniously into the enclosure. Xander looked up listlessly from the back corner, and registered something wonderful. A shock of bleach blonde hair. With his remaining strength he crawled over to the inert form and pulled him close. His own heat was all he had to offer …He did so willingly.

Spike was in a critical condition. Injured and unfed, and despite his master status, he was slipping. Xander knew from his state of malnutrition that it must have been two or three months since he had fed…His semi conscious status would indicate a week or two more, and he would fall to coma and dust from starvation. The only privacy Xander could afford his partner was his own body. Stripped of the last remnants of clothing, and with only a thin half sheet for cover, he managed to maneuver himself to lie over his friend with but a protruding rusty nail to provide the needed tear for a little blood to flow. Sadly so little, but Xander was already less than half his original weight, ribs prominent and muscles wasted. He gave what little blood he could afford.

Spike had been so badly injured by 'the Cleansers' that his Sunnydale friend spent the first ten days gently holding the semiconscious friend and occasionally trying to feed him a little blood. After that time and still not fully recovered, Spike at least recognized his carer but as the cage tilted violently and metal on metal indicated their transfer once more, it was all Xander could do to cushion his friend's fall with his own emaciated body.

Tranquilized, bound and transported, they were now heavens knew where. It was cold and forbidding but, Xander thought, somehow better as two pretty blue eyes blinked and slowly recognized the owner of the arms surrounding them.

There was almost no muscle left on the vampire. Old bruises remained and cuts had become gaping holes. Xander opened his wrist again, he wished for his friend to drain him. It was only a matter of time before he died. In the arms of a friend seemed preferable. An unwilling tongue eventually complied lapping quietly before the softly spoken "Reckon I owe you one Pet" emerged and Xander's charge fell back into oblivion. It was the first time in a week that he had spoken…

Three weeks later they were moved again. Their cage shoved into a large shipping container, the destination Experimental Labs.

White rooms, Perspex glass, small open loo in one corner, mattress in the other. Food arrived from a ceiling flap. Water was on tap unless withdrawn as punishment.

The pattern was always the same. They were shot with tranquilizer darts then taken separately to the experiment rooms. Often only partially drugged Xander had woken twice during 'procedures', but was gagged and fastened so tightly to the trolley that he doubted his 'medical team' realized. He fortunately passed out with the third knife incision during the first lucid encounter, but with the second had been awake for the humiliation of someone collecting his sperm. Hardly the situation to be 'stimulated', he noted a drug induced erection painful and willing to 'cooperate'. He simply closed his eyes and cried silently as the rubber clad hand brought him to completion, milking him five or six times in the space of thirty minutes. He heard them say that it was a pity to waste the seed, but their cross species attempts and impregnation were still important. In his semi drugged state he hoped any 'children' would be something vicious, at least might come back to bite them.

On the third visit they milked him again and again. He woke to find they had inserted a shunt so he might be 'milked' daily with no need to ejaculate. He suffered the humiliation of scientists collecting his seed each morning after he was tied fast, facing a wall.

After the forth visit to the operating room, the slice across his stomach left him wondering. He had indigestion for weeks. After the fifth 'time under', his head ached terribly and his missing eye had been replaced by a tiny camera fitting. It was confusing at first but he learned to deal with the odd digital images it sent to his visual cortex. He learned to ignore them.

After his sixth visit he felt strange, very, very strange. His body hair slowly disappeared, his skin became softer, his libido dropped to virtually non existent…and in the third week he noticed other physical changes, he lost body mass, gained 'curves'. He found himself overly emotional and crying at the slightest thing. He cried as his body altered. Spike cried with him.

He was injected for three months then treatment ceased and the small female breasts that had emerged with it, gradually disappeared again. His libido slowly returned, though not his interest in women. His body hair and muscle simply did not return.

The vampire fared worse. Parts were removed. It began with sections of skin, but then he returned missing an ear, then two toes. He was unceremoniously dumped into their cell with half a buttock muscle missing, then dragged away, only to return minus his left kneecap and his right tibia. The last three injuries left him unable to stand, let alone walk. As Xander ate the food provided, regaining a little weight on his now overly slim male figure, he fed his friend when he could and watched as Spike began the obviously painful and slow process of growing back his missing pieces. Xander realized his ocular implant was linked directly to the researcher's computer when a message suddenly appeared regarding 'scheduled maintenance shutdown' He tore the implant out of the socket, barely throwing it across the room before the 'team' came running.

They replaced it, bolting it to his skull and making a point of saying as much. He responded by staring at inanimate objects whenever possible.

By Xander's calculations, they had been in captivity for fifteen months. He watched as his friend shuffled slowly over to him using only his arms and existing 'good' buttock. Xander petted the now long locks and began to gently massage the injured areas, pleased to feel the slow return of the bones after almost two and a half months of mush.

He licked the newly regrown ear and whispered "When you're well we're out of here…Dead or alive, we're gone…OK?"

"Done, pet."

His stomach growled, Spike's answered.

Part 2

The door hissed open. Spike and Xander were huddled together in the back corner of the cell the other five occupants were similarly wound around each other. It was their only comfort. The three who had most recently been 'treated' occupied the mattress. One of the males, a peaceful demon Nat with pretty blue skin, had obviously been sliced from neck to groin, the cut though sewn, was still oozing through the dressings. There was nothing any of the others could do as they watched him slowly succumb. The lights were always on, there was no privacy, their nudity no longer an embarrassment, the cold and hunger ever-present.

"C'mon ya lazy bastards up!" All inmates were instantly alert and moving away from the voice. Deliberately deformed hands scrabbled at the floor, injured legs were forced to stand, violated bodies groaned as they complied with the demand. Those more able supported those who could not stand on their own. Xander helped his still recovering friend to his feet literally holding him up. He was weak, but Spike was now as light as a small child. Their blue friend did not move at all. A nightstick came down hard on the blue body, as the merest hint of an 'oof' was heard the action was repeated. After the fifth hit, Spike smelt it, even Xander could tell. Nat was out of pain. The dead body was kicked for good measure then a brisk order had it dragged from the cell. It seemed that it was simply a matter of time before they all left that way.

A large uniformed woman marched in behind the baton wielding soldier. She carried a pile of white disposable hospital scrubs. Throwing them in the middle of the room and before simply commanding "Dress for inspection".

Xander eased his friend to the ground before taking two of the coveralls, quickly dressing himself then gently pulling the second garment onto Spike, careful not to abrade his still raw behind.

Clearly made for healthy human males in a 'one size fits all' sense, the prisoners looked ridiculous. Far too thin to fill out the material, their emaciated forms seemed to be accentuated by the clothing rather than disguised. They were each then injected with a mild sedative rendering speech impossible and any indication of intelligence unlikely.

The inspectors came to the 'medical facility' every six months or so. They wandered around with clipboards, peering in at the inmates; occasionally asking a question of one of the scientists regarding their research; showing mild concern if there were particularly obvious injuries on the experimental subjects; admiring the innovative research; tut tutting at the overcrowding; and complimenting the guards on how very clean and wonderfully calm the prisoners looked.

The group stopped at Xander and Spike's cell to discuss a particularly exciting group of 'cases'. One of the two guards pushed Xander flat on his back and held him. Xander simply closed his eyes as one scientist pulled open his coveralls, exposing him to the group, then proceeded to prod the human. He lifted his genitals, pointed to various scars and generally discussed his hormone treatment and internal 'preparation'.

Spike had initially been watching but now closed tear filled eyes and through his drug induced haze, listened while the visitors marveled at the research into gender determination of demons and reassignment experiments. Their justification was apparently to perfect reassignment for breeding purposes in endangered *animal* species. Cross species surrogacy was also discussed. The demons and half breeds were expendable. If the technique was a success then it would benefit the outside world.

They discussed their methodology to date and the intention to 'fully treat' one or two of their 'current batch' as a comparative study since they had now established the correct hormone dosage for a variety of demons. Xander's flaccid penis was pushed around by what felt like a lecture pointer while comments were made regarding the harvesting of seed from Xander, and his surprisingly full reversal, post hormones. The discussion flowed into one of a permanent reassignment for this subject, and a possible experimental pregnancy. There were other comments regarding the disappointing results to date, a 'high attrition rate' and disappointing results with some of the demon species and the better success with humans and half-breeds. Vampires were discounted due to their regenerative nature preventing permanent changes. A number of the group simply stepped over the still fully exposed Xander. They wandered off still musing about their breeding program and newly planned experimental facilities.

As the door hissed shut, Spike slowly pushed himself over to his friend and with clumsy hands, tucked Xander back in and managed to pull the zip up half way before collapsing again. Xander rolled toward him. They hugged and cried. The next round of experiments seemed to promise a devastating and permanent change, they had to get out.

Another month passed. Two of the occupants of their cell were taken for experiments and did not return. One half-breed Bracken demon returned from the lab with a small vibrator apparently permanently inserted, sewn down in contact with his prostate. The research assistants sat and observed outside the cell, dialing the vibrations higher and higher until the poor male's spines turned fiery orange and he begged for relief. He was given none. In the end, Xander and Spike and the other two inmates all took turns trying to comfort the poor individual as he screamed and sobbed for four days straight, sleep rendered impossible for the dear wretch by the constant stimulation. By the end of the fifth day as the vibrations were increased again, he fell utterly silent. He simply sat in the corner of their cell rocking, crying, tugging at his erection and occasionally playing with his own rear end. He no longer ate or drank anything, eventually fell unconscious and was removed.

With only four left in the cell, sleeping on the mattress was a now a given. It was a small bonus.

One of their companions Jason had come in as a burly lad, standing just over seven feet tall, with the appearance of a professional wrestler. Spike identified him as non human immediately and Xander was a little wary, but the gentle giant had endeared himself to all of them. He was now rake thin and stooped a little. Xander and Spike watched with distress as he too was treated with hormones, but were even more upset when he was returned to their cell minus all his body hair and his scrotum. They had never really liked Neil, their other cellmate, pointy toothed with scaly lizard like skin. He had always been what Xander would call a 'slippery' character, but on the night of Jason's return, he had held his huge fellow prisoner, rocking him as he came to, realized his 'status', and grieved.

Every day for the next fortnight, Neil disregarded their captors and observers, if there were any who still cared, and used his incredibly long and soft tongue to gently lave the ruined area. He never missed an opportunity to praise Jason's appearance or to comfort. It was as though a switch had been flipped when the manhood of the other was lost. Neil finally confided in the other three that with his race, sliding between male and female was a given. He had started as a female and changed in his thirtieth year. He adored his large friend's new found ambiguity, Jason cried all the more for the understanding and slowly but surely began to return the love he was given.

Xander was still 'in tact', though it would just be a matter of time he was certain. As the 'treatments' for Jason 'ramped up', their food supply improved. Jason filled out a little and with it came the female features. They were all shocked when he began to lactate, though Neil was more on the ecstatic side of the 'shock spectrum'. Spike and Xander vacated the mattress. The other two made noisy love, Neil's stumpy tail raised triumphantly as he licked over the milk producing chest and completed ecstatically inside his now willing lover.

The following day the two were taken together. Mumbled words of 'new facilities'; 'breeding schemes'; and 'keeping the subjects happy'; were coupled with 'final phase' and 'risk to the surrogate'.

So now they were alone, and truly terrified. Xander promised to dust Spike, Spike to drain Xander. They clung to each other until drugged and forcibly separated for their 'treatments'. Regardless of the daily torment they cuddled when together, it was the only comfort.

At month twenty Xander was back on the hormones, Spike back to the torture. This time it was electric shock. After the last two 'treatments' he had been returned to the cell docile, unable to speak and apparently unable to access whole sections of his memories. Still in game face, he had addressed Xander as 'good sir' and seemed utterly confused and horrified by his own nudity and circumstance…blaming the Kaiser, the French, anyone not English, for his predicament. As his memories returned, Xander held him and they both cried in silence.

As the numbers of 'hostiles' in the cells dwindled, the cries of those still left became a regular commentary on each day. It seemed the new facility had been opened and most of the existing 'inmates' were no longer of use. The end result seemed inevitable. Alone and frightened, or together and frightened, the latter was by far the most preferable. They were all destined to die.

It was an unknown day of the week, at an unknown time that their white world abruptly disappeared.

A rumble marked the start. An alarm sounded somewhere in the building then an almighty explosion blew the walls of their cell away and left them both utterly deafened. Spike somehow landed on top of the blast site. He could sense his friend's heartbeat under the rubble and fell into game face, using all his vampire assets to tear at the concrete and twisted metal, and located a relatively unscathed, though trapped, Xander, under a large piece of Perspex. He touched the hand, thankfully, it responded.

He worked for another hour, slowly ridding the upper layers of weight until he could pull Xander free. The human's arm was broken. His ribs on one side obviously cracked but his back and legs, though bruised, were fine. Spike swiftly bit his wrist, shoving it into his friend's mouth. Xander reflexively drank a little, then they both slowly stood. Spike could see, but they were both nude, had no idea where they were or even if they were above or below ground, let alone how to get out.

Part 3

The determined though still somewhat confused Spike, led Xander in the direction he could smell fresh air. They crawled across the rubble, scraping knees and bruising already damaged limbs as the uneven, unforgiving surfaces produced spikes, and juts, and sharp pieces. They pulled one other inmate from a trapped position. The little demon was the same species as their dead friend Nat, though his blue skin was covered in concrete dust and one of his huge blue eyes was badly injured. By the time they had made it to the end of what had been the corridor of cells, they were joined by a rake thin vampire with an obviously broken leg, but they found no other signs of life in their section.

Spike had begun to get his hearing back and distinctly heard a gunshot ring out followed by a thump. Through the dust and rubble they could see torches approaching. Soldiers and rescuers had finally made it to the back of the facility and were still calling for the doctors, jailors, scientists, hated names, feared individuals. Spike distinctly heard the order to shoot any of the hostiles found still alive and responded immediately by pushing his companions through a hole in the rubble, covering them partially with a with a large piece of white wall and by hauling the mangled remains of a less fortunate fellow prisoner to cover the remaining gap. It was dark and dusty. Spike hoped it would be enough. The two vampires could survive a bullet and 'play dead' if mistaken for demon but not so Xander or their other friend.

There was the crunch of an army boot on glass so close that even Xander's concussed eardrums picked it up.

"Sir, cell blocks on level 4 and 5 are secure. Only one hostile found alive. It was eliminated as instructed."

"Well done Saunders. Doesn't look like the ones in here will cause any trouble either." The boot kicked the dead body pushing it harder against Spike. "Just take your men and do a quick sweep now and come back for cleanup in the morning. Reckon once we've recovered the human remains from the lab that'll be it."

"Demon remains?"

"No need. Orders are for demolition, complete cleanup by Friday…they'll go with the rest of this mess."

The commanding officer moved off while the other men gave a cursory check around. There were two more gunshots but no corresponding thud, it seemed the agenda was simply to shoot a dead body or two for good measure.

After three hours of huddling together, the two vampires agreed, they could no longer hear any signs of the soldiers. Xander had been in a state of semi slumber but roused as Spike shifted to nudge away the dead body. They cautiously pushed their way free of the debris and crawled from the hiding place.

They could all feel the chilly draft and smell fresh air coming from somewhere to their right. With only two of them possessing night vision and all the parties carrying injuries, the progress was quite literally, painfully slow. But sometime toward midnight they pushed past a buckled metal door to find themselves…Outside.

All four strained to sense any soldiers. It seemed they had come out at the rear of the building near an incineration facility. Evidence of the size of the blast was strewn across a deserted moonlit space, the incinerator on its side, and its yet to be burned contents spilling onto the ground. More bodies. A helicopter with searchlight flew overhead and they all instantly dropped amongst the carcasses, the second vampire whimpering a little as his broken leg struck a post on the way down. The chopper did not stay, its light sweeping the area then moving off.

Xander had begun to shiver as had the little blue demon. They all needed clothes. The deceased around them were all nude as well but Spike spied what looked like a small work shed near the incinerator and wondered. He stood and helped first Xander then his fellow vampire to their feet.

Pointing to the shed, he led them as quickly as they could manage and found a gaping hole giving them easy access to inside. Hanging on the wall were three sets of white toxic waste coveralls and gumboots. Xander worried until a metal locker revealed a sports bag with a rather putrid old T-shirt and huge pair of sweat pants and joggers that reeked of foot odor. None of them cared. They dressed as quickly as they could Spike located a rather soiled hand towel, quickly tearing it to create splints from some loose skirting board for both Xander's arm and his injured compatriots leg. All he could do for the little demon's eye was lick it clean. They all decided to forgo the boots in preference for speed of foot, should they need to run.

As Xander pulled the sweatpants on he noticed something else at the bottom of the locker. A lunchbox. A full lunchbox. Opening it, he almost cried. Fresh sandwiches, a chocolate muffin and an apple. A beautiful red apple. None of them had eaten since the previous day, but there was no time to do so now. The half bottle of drinking water on the desk was requisitioned and Spike emptied one drawer of its contents while Xander looked in the other. They took the little over seven dollars in coins, a torch, some tape and the gum, then retrieved a newspaper and two half eaten waffles from the bin. Packing the precious cargo into the sports bag, Xander watched while Spike and the other vampire, as quietly as they could, tipped over the locker to lean on a now upturned table, leaving the small space looking as though the blast had done the damage.

They had to get away from the site but none had any idea where they were, though the paper should give them some indication of the country at least. The other problem was going to be daylight. They needed to find secure shelter.

Spike mouthed, "Let's just get away from here first!" They all nodded and followed.

They followed alongside a well used dirt road that led away from behind the shed, hoping desperately that the helicopter did not return, or at least not until they were able to reach the cover of a trees that could be seen only a mile or two away. They were in luck.

The thicket was more than a few trees. Apparently the Initiative's 'medical' facility had a 'buffer zone' of nature giving the impression of a 'green conscious' government organization and keeping the public blissfully ignorant of the horrors being conducted within.

Despite injuries throbbing and stomachs aching with hunger and thirst, they kept moving, supporting each other when anyone faltered. Finally Xander saw the outline of a farmhouse and some outbuildings through the trees. If they were lucky there might be a secure spot to hole up for the day.

They approached the home with extreme caution. If caught in their current attire, any explanation of who they were would simply lead them back to captivity. Rounding the corner of the shed, Spike saw a large dog chained to its kennel for the night, still a problem if it roused and raised the alarm. Xander touched Spike's arm and indicated to one of the half eaten waffles he now held. Spike shook his head but the dog was already awake and sniffing the air. Xander stepped out from the building and walked across the moonlit space. The hound began to growl loudly but before a bark emerged Xander had thrown the waffle to it. He then walked up, held out his hand and was 'accepted' as 'friendly' as the dog snuffled around in case he had missed a crumb. Despite his own hunger Xander felt around in the bag again and produced the second piece and spied his fellow escapees quietly entering the barn as he did so.

He patted the dog one more time then joined them.

Spike was thrilled to see the hayloft laden with fresh bales. They climbed as swiftly as they could and ensconced themselves inside the straw by creating a small bale igloo at the rear of the stack.

It was warm and quiet, Xander opened the lunchbox and shared the contents with his blue friend before offering his wrist to Spike.

Spike shook his head a little and nodded toward the other injured vampire, "He needs it more." But the other shook his head and with a forlorn look, fell into his game face and opened his mouth. Every tooth and fang had been removed, the gums were red raw, it had been done recently and by the tearful look it was not the first time.

Spike bit down on his own wrist and trickled a little of his own blood into the violated mouth. The other suckled for a moment and then began to cry silently as he laved the wound.

Xander pushed his wrist to Spike again. This time his friend drank.

Spike had been strong to that moment but now was overwhelmed. "Oh [sob] ghhhhahhh…[sob]…Pet [whispered]…We're free…"

They all slept. Xander had no idea for how long, only that he awoke truly warm; he'd eaten fresh fruit; and was clothed for the first time in nearly two years. He was spooning Spike from the back and realized that the warmth at his own back must be their little blue friend. The other vampire was the last in the set, but no less grateful for the comfort and heat.

The human lay awake simply enjoying the sounds. His ears were still ringing a little, but not so that he could not appreciate. A tractor started somewhere in the distance. The back fly screen of the house banged shut and sounds of country music on a radio drifted across the yard from inside.

His stomach rumbled a little, he remembered they still had a muffin and some water. He smiled. After what they had been fed for the last two years…he wasn't really that hungry.

There were chickens somewhere nearby and the good folks obviously kept a turkey or two. Xander realized he had not heard the sound of a bird for the entire time of their captivity.

Two children skidded their bikes to a halt, obviously just arriving home from school. The door banged several more times and Xander began to cry silently as he heard the sounds of the two youngsters organizing to play catch.

He squeezed Spike a little closer, burying the sobs into his hair, trying to stay quiet, trying to stay hidden, trying to…survive. His arm throbbed, he shifted a little. The small blue figure behind him pulled in a little tighter. He fell asleep once more. They were still safe for now.

They all woke to the insistent sound of the 'Blue suede shoes' phone tone. The southern twang was unmistakable. They were somewhere in the south of the USA, and by the accent…

"Well Good Lord what did they all expect!"
…
"Yahh
…
"Yahh
…
"Well Cherise. I for one, am more than happy that those aberrations of life, are dead and gone! I cannot believe that our dear lord would countenance such filth! And that our government would do anythin' but get rid of those insults to our lord!…
…
"Why In the name of our father! Of *course not* We were guaranteed…and there was never a mistake here at least!
…
"Yahh.
…
"Yahhh!
…
"Well y'all know my feelin's. Good riddance say I …
…
"Well of course(!!) I grieve for the families of the wonderful folks on that establishment!!!…
…
"Were there many?…Well that's a relief…
…
"Pie? Why of course…What're you makin?"
…
"How many on Sunday?…
…
"Were they believers?…
…
"Shame…Many children?
…
"Well thank God for that…
…
"Of Course not! Doesn't make any of us a bad person! That murderous bastard…pleased he died with his truck…demon filth!

"Yes of course see you tomorrow."

They all heard the click as the phone went off. They all knew their current abode was in jeopardy…except that…at least two of them could not walk into the day and the third was blue.

"C'mon Jake!"

"Gaahh" [thump…scrambling noises below them] "S@$%"

The dog barked.

"Mom will have you fer cussin'!"

The older voice now much closer, "You *baby*! Not if she don't hear me she won't!"

It was daytime, Xander knew as he woke. Perhaps a little bit human and in an old set of exercise gear, he might not 'scare the locals'.

The noise was getting closer. He pushed his way out of their 'igloo', praying to every deity he knew that the precious friends inside would remain safe. Before the two entered the building, he kissed Spike then dropped to the ground floor, moving with less agility than he would have liked, and shifting to where the two young lads could see him.

He called on all his television watching of old, and tried for his best soft southern drawl in the desperate hope that he might not startle the youngsters.

"Hey y'awl…Not meanin' t' startle you…"

"Hey Mister! Yer not s'posed 't be here."

Xander attempted to step into the sight of the two boys, but they paled as his legs gave out with residual exhaustion, and he cried in pain when broken arm hit barn floor. He passed out with the simple audible word, "Don't."

A small soft hand was patting him. "You OK mister? 'Cause my mom is not that great with folks from out of town…'specially thems what pass out." And a cool wet towel pushed across Xander's forehead. He knew the word, "Thanks" came from somewhere inside him. He assumed he had been recaptured, vaguely hoped Spike and their other friends had made it and passed out again.

Sometime shortly after, consciousness returned. He slowly registered the barn, which surprised him, but managed to whisper, "Food…please???!!!"

The older of the two boys objected, "Pa said…no strangers"

"But *Jake* likes him, so he *can't* be a 'stranger'!!"

"Jake's a dog"

"But he barks at Brother Bernard"

"Brother Bernard's weird"

"You can't say that!"

"I will and to father!"

"You can't say *anything* to father…not about Brother Bernard or this!"

"Why?"

"Because, because…"

Xander looked on desperately as the two argued. The dog jumped suddenly, bumping his injured arm. He blanched and curled up further. A tear dropped. The boys ceased their quibbling.

"Hey mister, are you hurt?"

Xander's had folded into a full fetal position on the floor his injured and splinted arm cradled safely against his waist. The question was direct, he looked up and gave the only answer possible. He nodded a little.

"Arm broken…maybe ribs too."

A chirpy voice replied, "I had a broken arm once! Chad pushed me over.."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"I just tagged you and you fell!"

"B.S. You pushed!" [heavy sigh] "Anyways …it hurt and I had plaster…how come you don't have plaster?"

Xander looked into the innocent face of the boy. He was placing his life in the hands of a child who could not be older than eight, and his brother who, by the looks of him, was a burly eleven or so. "I was hurt last night…" He closed his eyes again, "'S OK."

The youngest piped up again, "We should tell Mom! He smells somethin' fierce, that's not right!"

"No tellin' Mom! She'll think we did it."

"Did what?"

"Hurt him!"

"Will not!"

"Will too…and she'll take yer bike again!"

"Will not!"

"Will too and you know it!"

The younger of the boys prodded the curled figure on the floor, "If we bring ya food 'n all ya won't go telling Ma will ya?"

Xander managed to shake his head. His arm throbbed; he desperately needed to pee; he stank; his throat was begging for a drink; and he was at the mercy of two small boys, knowing that three other friends were in even more dire circumstances if he failed.

"Well…can ya get up? 'Cause if Pa finds you we'll all get whupped"

Xander gradually and painfully uncurled…"Is it OK if I sleep in the hay?"

The younger of the two held his nose and answered, "Sure! But ya gotta promise t' wash, 'cause the straw is fer the animals!" His brother kicked him then added, "There's water out back. And Pa always has a bottle of soap. Mom won't let him in the house afore he washes his hands."

Xander smiled a little, tried to give a thankful nod to the boys but was too slow. They had moved off.

He stood and did as instructed. He relieved himself in the bushes, drank deeply, then used the tank of icy cold water at the rear of the barn to wash. The sun was still up. He filled the wooden bucket, took off the putrid shirt and dunked it in the water. He washed the dust of the blast and filth of many months from his thin frame using the shirt, sadly noting that though incredibly thin, he was still the proud owner of female 'parts' and had no need to shave.

Without contaminating the water, he discarded the soiled water then carefully filled the bucket again. He soaped the smelly garments he had been wearing, wrung them out and hung them out of sight underneath the water tower.

As the cleaned and 'watered' Xander climbed the ladder to join his friends again, tears fell. He was grateful for the respite, but they really were so far from safe. Yet he was thankful, there had been a day before their obviously inevitable recapture, when he had walked freely and seen the sun. He took the time to be thankful to the gods. He knew that they had abandoned him, them, but was still grateful for the one day they had granted. The human cuddled into the embrace of his friend, the tightening of a reciprocal hug was so welcome…He cried a little more, then oblivion took him.

They all woke to the quiet calls.

"Hey mister!"

"Hey stinky man."

"Shhh ya can't say that!"

"Just did."

"Shut it!"

"Make me!"

A scuffle was audibly apparent. Xander pulled himself from his sleeping position. He pulled the muffin from the bag and shoved it into a startled blue hand, then shushed his fellow fugitives. He was risking himself to the two preteens once again, but now there was no other choice.

The tussle ceased instantly as he leaned over the loft's edge and said, "I washed my clothes but they were still drying under the tank…do you think..?"

With the deer in headlights response of the boys, Xander's heart fell, but then the youngsters moved, and he was briskly tossed two perfectly dry, sweet smelling garments. What staggered him the more was the size of the meal the boys had procured.

Along with the clothes came a sack of old school lunch, a full loaf of bread, a large serve of (albeit frozen) chowder, and a small bag of caramel popcorn, topped off with a carton of strawberry milk. There were no words. And strangely, two small boys felt they had done the right thing as the thin man said nothing but shed silent tears.

They had never seen a man cry before. They left him, confused but sure they had done something good and resolved to repeat the exercise.

Xander had eaten and drank and now lay quietly sharing his blood with his friend, just as Eddie (the blue demon's name) shared his manually sliced wrist with Jonathan, the other blood dependant of their group. Xander mused…they had run for two days together before names were exchanged…he'd learned it was easier if they died without a name. He didn't like losing the named ones…He hoped that would not happen again…

He pulled on the newly clean clothes and snuggled further into Spike's reassuring grasp.

Xander woke crying on their third day of freedom…he couldn't seem to control it…the black hole of life, death, whatever, was consuming him. So he cried. Last time the hormones had been withdrawn it was controlled, gradual, monitored. This time they had simply stopped. So he cried and Spike held. He knew some of the changes in him would not reverse, but the mood swings and depression had to go eventually…He hoped, Spike hugged.

He was thankful that the small boys forgot to come the following day. The four friends had food and now Xander knew where to go, water as well. The other three managed a trip to the water tank around midnight on their second day in the barn, washing carefully and taking time to admire the myriad of stars, and smell the fresh air. It was Eddie's turn to cry.

The boys arrived with food and a bottle of root beer in the afternoon of the third day in the barn. Xander had been quietly crying again, he couldn't say why this time, but wiped his face and eased down the ladder to spend some time chatting to the curious boys. Still red eyed, he was asked to spit on his palm and shake hands (the spit, a sign of solidarity apparently) then promise not to 'dob them in to Pa'.

The younger lad was now sitting on an old saddle slung over a low horizontal bar swinging his legs in a parody of riding a horse. He turned with a thoughtful look, "You ever played baseball mister?"

"Sure" Xander snorted a little at the notion, "but it's been quite some time."

The older one was leaning chewing a piece of hay for effect, accidentally chewed off the end and spat dramatically before asking, "You any good?"

A quiet reply came, "Not at pitching, OK batter."

The younger one added, "In summer we're allowed out after supper and the Hyland boys c'n play then too. That's only a month off."

The older one, Chad, narrowed his eyes and looked hard at Xander "Can you throw far…'cause you don't look very strong."

"Don't be mean."

"Well he don't and anyways…d'ya need that arm what's broken?"

Xander knew they could not stay hidden here for a month so throwing arms didn't matter. He replied simply, "s' OK throw with the other…"

"Great! We need an outfielder 'cause Bobby here never catches anythin'!"

"Do so!"

"Do not"

"Do…"

The door of the house banged shut and a female voice yelled, "Boys? Dinner!" There was a pause, "Now don't y'all go makin' me yell again! Come in right now or I'm sending your Pa to git ya!"

Xander had been remembering his own 'house rules' baseball with Jesse at that age, but snapped to as the insistent call came…

"Ya better go hide, mister…If Pa has ta come, we'll git a hidin'."

The two lads scrambled to the door, taking Jake with them and ran across the yard. Xander took their evening meal up the ladder and settled back into the igloo. They all heard the woman…

"Watcha all doin' in the barn now? You better not be messin' with your Pa's tools or there'll be hell ta pay…Now git inside 'n eat."

Xander smiled sadly. He remembered similar comments, not about a barn particularly but about being late for dinner. But he was no longer a child, no longer even judged a 'human', no longer…anyone…really. None of them were and that alone was a death sentence if they were found.

It was day five of their time free, and Xander's broken arm still throbbed but that was the least of his physical symptoms now. He had the mother of all headaches; his tiny breasts ached and the nipples were overly sensitive to every touch; the muscles around his balls pulsed with a strange nervous twitch; and he itched all over. In a bizarre twist of fate, he felt as horny as a teenager. He told Spike, who tried to help, but they had both shed a tear as the deft hand was unable to stimulate anything resembling an erection and the previously irritated scrotum apparently shriveled in sympathy with the lax phallus.

The torment continued the next day and the one after that. A week of nipples as hard as rocks, and a penis that neither recognized its owner, nor the inner (very urgent) 'need' of the rest of the body it was attached to. Spike felt helpless, so just held on as his friend quietly.

On the seventh day, as Xander suffered, Eddie offered that there might be some merit in 'sexual congress' between Xander and his 'friend'. Xander snorted, yet closed his eyes and seriously considered. Jonathan made no comment, he rarely ever spoke more than a word, the toothless mouth causing him to lisp embarrassingly and spray spittle every time. Instead he stunned his three friends (and thrilled one of them) by baring his own behind to the blue speaker. The vampire had struggled a little with his still splinted leg in their small abode, then stared suggestively at his, hopefully interested friend, now lover. Eddie grinned, blinked slowly with his still intact eye, slicked himself with a handful butter from the stick that Xander's little friends had provided with 'dinner' (somehow they had mistaken it for cheese), and with no further adieu, proceeded to bury himself balls deep into the vampire.

Spike and Xander gave them some space…moving 'out' for the ensuing hour or so of the evening. It was by Spike's estimation, after midnight as they lay on the straw of the open hay loft, having politely abandoned their igloo hideaway to the amorous new couple. It seemed that the talents and sustainability of the blue demon suited the vampire.

Sadly, Xander was weeping again. Spike reached for the hand and held it…then pulled him in close and cuddled, just for comfort, in friendship. Xander had listened to Eddie, wished he felt normal, wished he was gay. But it was more than that…it had been so long…He just desperately wanted to feel…He figured it was still the hormone changes, but he knew he loved Spike…as more than a friend. He wondered if he would still feel like this after his body hair thickened again, wondered if it ever would. For the first time he wondered if he and Spike could ever be lovers, they had been through so much together…But somehow he figured he was too freakish now for anyone to truly love him. He was desperately trying to stay quiet but a huge sob escaped…Spike tightened his hold.

Minutes passed. Xander finally relaxed and turned to face his friend. They both felt it. Spike leaned down, Xander closed the distance and they kissed truly, in freedom, and for the first time. Noiseless was a given, tentative was the beginning, passionate followed the second minute, and after that came desperately and amorously and for…They lost track of time, but were eventually invited back into their hiding space by a 'psssst' from a very satisfied looking Eddie and the gummy grin of Jonathon.

They had been utterly awake and painfully, tensely silent for nearly four hours, as 'Pa' tinkered with the tractor and continued to come in and out of his barn. It was a Sunday apparently and he was not in a good mood, grumbling to himself constantly.

"Preacher man needs a pitchfork up his arse! Since when has anyone prayed for a bunch of demon lovin' idiots. Worse'n all them black lovers in the sixties." Sounds of boots stomping out, then metal against metal as the engine rocker is removed.

"If'n I ever found one of them freaks on this property…pigs 'd have a good meal that's for sure." Boots stomping inside again.

"The nerve! Lecturin' us honest folk." The footsteps went outside again.

A loud clanging followed, "Sweet Jesus! May!! May!! Send one of the boys out. Quick smart like!" The back door banged against the house, they all knew that sound too well.

"Whatcha hollerin' about now?"

"Dropped the wrench…and ahh Hell woman!…Just send out one of the kids!"

"Don't you go cussin' at me mister…I saw ya sleepin through the sermon! It's a wonder our lord don't just strike you down right here!"

A more pleading voice replied…"Please May!!…You can beat my white behind 'til the cows come home …later! Please!! Just git Chad or Bobby??!! I got three fingers holdin' half a tractor engine here and I've dropped the darned wrench."

They stayed silent, they stayed hidden, but they could not risk staying for much longer.

The following day Xander chatted to the boys after school. The genial tone of an 'older uncle' was easy. He asked them about school; about baseball; thanked them again for the food; let them poke at his still very sore and broken arm; let Jake lick him and petted him in return.

Then finally struck up the courage…

"You guys have saved my life…you do know that right?"

Bobby was instantly wide eyed with amazement. "So we're like heroes or somethin'?"

"You are to me."

Chad smelt a rat, "You're not stayin' are ya!"

"I can't keep askin you two to help…but I tell you what, as soon as I can I'll come back and I promise, I'll be a little better than I am now…I promise…" Xander trailed off, wondering if this would be the moment the children gave him up.

"It's OK mister. We figured you would have to leave sometime. But Jake still thinks you're cool, so we do too." Xander was sitting on the floor of the barn and as if to illustrate the point the large dog licked Xander's face, then plonked himself down on the human's skeletally thin feet.

Bobby looked more thoughtful than usual then offered, "Whenever I leave home I take a sack and some extra stuff. Do you need extra stuff? I'll git it for ya, but ya can't have Nilbert."

Chad rolled his eyes, "You dumbass…" He looked knowingly at Xander. "Don't worry about it Nilbert is a dumb stuffed bear."

"Not dumb!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!!"

Xander saw the argument getting louder, it was their last day here, he did not want to attract attention, "Hey, hey…No Dilbert …got it."

"Nilbert!"

"Sorry, of course…Nilbert…"

Chad spoke again after a pointed look to his little brother and a 'put upon' sigh, "Anyways…I reckon you'll want some clothes and bit of food…and hey there's an old guy…Um lives off of Battle Lands Creek a county over. They reckon he's mad but I figure you're gonna need ta git a job sometime…and Pa reckons he's only mad 'cause he keeps takin' in strays."

Xander simply nodded and mumbled "Thanks."

The two returned with a frozen loaf of bread and a few apples, plus a handful of old clothes.

Chad spoke first, "We couldn't getcha more mister. Mom's kinda mad with us right now cause we had to tell her we gave the butter to Jake, 'n now she won't let us in the kitchen."

"Or the pantry!"

"That is the kitchen you idiot!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Gahhh you are just so dumb"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

The two forgot about Xander as he examined the booty. Two full sets of clothes. Added to the admittedly oily flannel shirt and set of soiled women's riding breaches, they would all be in somewhat 'normal' clothes…Still no shoes but beggars can't be …and all that.

"I hate you!"

"I hate you more!"

"Care factor minus five!"

"Minus ten!"

"You don't know what that means!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

He could hear them still fighting as they entered the house. He sent a blessing for their innocent generosity to whichever deity looked after little boys, then climbed the ladder for the last time to distribute their newly acquired 'wealth'.

Somewhere around midnight four silent figures climbed down from their hiding place, exited the building and made their way toward the trees again. Xander stopped to pat Jake and gave him the rest of the butter. The dog licked him with gusto then turned to consume the unexpected treat.

Part 6

It was one am when they made it to the closest small town, two am when they hotwired an old jalopy from a dodgy looking garage, and three am when it ran out of petrol. But according to the ancient, slightly torn road map (thankfully found stuffed under the front passenger seat) they only had a couple of miles to the Battle Lands Creek.

Their little band of injured brothers struggled on. Jonathan's leg was better but had not been set properly, none had shoes and Xander's head was aching again. He felt for Eddie. When he'd lost an eye it had been hospital and meds. Despite regular laving with vampire saliva by first Spike and now his lover Jonathon, Xander knew the blue demon had suffered. There was little to be done but bear all of their pains as stoically as they could. Jonathan's teeth did not seem to be growing back. Spike quietly confided in Xander that he thought they might be many months coming in, as it was every tooth and his current physical state was seriously undernourished. Xander admired Eddie's fortitude as he reopened the raw wound on his wrist night after night to feed his friend.

It was near pitch black on a moonless night as they struggled through a forested area, the vampires led their visually impaired friends. Breaking out of the thick underbrush, they had been pushing through, the ragtag bunch found themselves facing a rather rundown set of farm buildings and a ramshackle house with yard full of rubbish and old harvesting equipment. What was a little more disturbing was the string of headless carcasses hanging beside the shed, and an enormous pile of chicken bones resting underneath the gory string.

They pushed cautiously into the shed. Spike saw it first, the pentagram on the wall and ring of salt on the floor. This was no ordinary farmer, but just what his thoughts on demons might be were still unknown.

They eased themselves out of the magic shed, deciding to err on the side of caution and made their 'nest' for the day in an abandoned truck that had somehow landed in the bushes some hundred feet from the main buildings.

Its rusty shell, sans motor, gave enough cover for the four. As dawn approached, they all scooted underneath the body of the truck, Eddie and Xander sandwiching their two precious vampires between them and tucking the toxic waste coveralls over the top…just in case.

Xander woke some time near sunrise, to the muzzle of a gun leveled at his nose and a torchlight in his face.

"Git yer sorry arse outa there ya freeloadin' hobo!"

Xander had no choice.

He was caught, but hoped desperately that the others would stay silent and hidden.

He shuffled awkwardly from underneath the truck, all the while conscious of the double barrel rifle aimed at his head.

As he heard it cocked to fire and the bloodhound he faced bared his teeth, he assumed he was to die. He did the only thing he could think of and fell into a begging position, kneeling completely down on the ground in front of the gun toting inquisitor. But he just could not control the final fear.

The smell of warm urine became evident.

Yet the gun did not fire.

"Good glory be!! Son…Good glory be!!"

The dog didn't attack, merely sniffed. His elderly owner pointed the rifle away from his face and squatted down. The light was still blinding.

"Now from what Hell did y'all come from…'cause I'm figurin' there's more to you as meets the eye."

Xander still was not game to look up, let alone speak, but a calloused hand gripped his chin and forced him.

The elder gent took in the gaunt features and lost look, "Lord son, how long since you ate?…" The dog began to sniff around the truck and Xander knew their run was up as the hound barked and howled.

"Please…please…sir…No …NO!!!…Please…we're harmless…we won't …Please we just need…" The excited dog was still bouncing around, snuffling and barking at the truck. As he inadvertently trod on the fugitive's injured arm, Xander cried out, then paled and threw up the tiny amount of food he had consumed sometime earlier that day.

He lay his head in his own vomit and began to cry. "Just shoot me…please just shoot me…Plea…ssse."

The dog began to bark at the truck again.

There was no option this time and the other three shifted to join their prostrated friend, taking on similar positions of subservience. The old man noted that the waif thin long haired blonde had wrapped his arms around the now 'self-soiled' brunette. He shone the torchlight down the line of sorry individuals. Even clothed, it was obvious that the four were all so thin that an anatomy lesson would have been pointless if attempting to study the muscular form of humans. They were all bones covered by skin. He noted the bruising and the obvious injuries. These were no normal runaways.

Trained eyes focused on the odd coloration of the smallest in the group and he suddenly understood. An accusative, "You survived the blast!" was met by whimpers from at least two of the four, and the smaller pair reached to hold each other's hands even though they were still kneeling fully down.

The voice suddenly changed to become one of comfort, "Oh now…No need to go frettin'. But ya might like to come on inside seein' as the sun will be up in a while. Got a couple of deliveries comin' this mornin'. Wouldn't want for the neighbors to find yer sorry arses."

A calloused hand again reached down to cup Xander's chin and lift the now tear streaked face. "Ohhh son, you 'n yer friends are safe with me, at least for now…" He reached down and lifted each of the prostrated figures to a bewildered kneel, then encouraged them to stand. He noted Jonathan's struggle and the splinted leg, asking, "Can y'all walk or should I…"

Xander cut him off with a half hitched sob as he whispered, "We'll be fine…Oh please god…thank you…we'll be fine…" The small blue figure also shook his head, and slipped a shoulder under his injured friend's arm supporting him yet again as they struggled toward the house. The four limped behind the elderly gent as he led them indoors, walking openly, for the first time in two years…freely …welcomed.. into a home. Admittedly it was the dead of night and a rather shabby residence…But the relief, the 'freely' and the 'your all welcome' was tear-worthy in itself.

They were ushered into a small lounge room, the worn couch and threadbare rugs gave away the precarious finances of the kind individual in front of them. As they went to sit, a warm hand stopped Xander and a small bath towel was pushed into his arms.

"Son you need to go clean up…"

"Oh Gahhh I am so sorry…I..I.." A tear dropped and Xander was caught by his lovely vampire as he almost collapsed again. A warm hand patted his back just as a cool one supported him around his waist.

"No apologies needed son, there's shampoo and all sorts in the shower room…you jes go git yerself clean and I'll sort some spare threads for ya. Figure you folks are travelin' 'light'."

Xander nodded still teary but with polite contrition, then was followed to the shower room by his vampire friend.

As soon as they were alone, he was the recipient of an unexpected, very hard smack to the backside, "You bloody idiot!!…You took a risk for us again!"

"It paid off!" Xander threw off the T-shirt.

"Ho yeah! Now your the so confident Mr. I-peed-my-pants-when-the-rifle-was-in-my face person!"

"For f#$k sake Spike, what was I supposed to do? I can't lose you!"

"And I. Can't. Bloody well. Lose. You! You great. Selfish F#@$ing Git!"

Xander's countenance dropped, he raised tear filled eyes to his lovely friend as he dropped his rather 'whiffy', damp, sweat pants and stepped into the shower with his cherished vampire.

"I'm sorry Spike." The large brown eye begged forgiveness…Spike gave it freely, grabbing the soap and sponge and gently beginning to wash his friend…"Yeah well…just don't bloody well go doin' it again…yeah?"

"I won't…promise."

"Promise?"

"Yeah…Spike?" The stress of the last days overcame the human and he fell forward resting his forehead on Spike's shoulder as loving strokes drove soap across his thin form in the blissfully warm stream of water.

Spike heard a groan and worried about the arm, "What?"

"Just wanna let you know…"

"What Pet?"

"I…I love you…you know that don't you? I am so lucky to have had you…no matter what happens, I love you." The words were slurring together as Xander closed his good eye and gave in to the wonderful sensation of being washed by the warm cascade and gentle strokes.

But Spike heard the truth and the water diluted the salt of his own tears. Their current host was sympathetic, but they were still running. One day though, perhaps one day, it might be possible that they be together, openly and with the blessing of others…One day.

A cheerful voice broke through his reverie and Xander's semi slumber, 'C'mon you two…grub's up! We've got two more ta wash and a bit ta discuss I reckon!"

Their host ushered them into the cluttered, nineteen thirties style kitchen, complete with wood stove. The benches were littered with jars, fresh produce from the garden, unwashed pots and various appliances including an ancient mix master and what looked like a meat grinder.

A chipped wooden table was laid out for the meal, non-matching rickety wooden chairs jammed in to accommodate five places, and a cheerful collection of condiments forming the centerpiece.

"Take a seat boys, enjoy…I'm Samuel by the way. The dog is Missy." The blood hound looked up from the mat near the door and gave a cursory wag of her tail.

The same bewildered look graced all their faces as they shakily took their seats, it was all a little too overwhelming to take in. They were welcomed to a breakfast of fried eggs with bacon, with side of home baked bread and, rather oddly, a large bowl each of steaming chicken stew.

"Figured ya'd all do with a good feedin'."

The four sat in silence around the table, hardly able to eat. They were all clean, apparently welcomed to their first real meal for …years…and without exception, terrified that it might end at any moment…that their benefactor might turn on them…that this might a trick and simply the courtesy of a last meal.

Finally Eddie could stand it no more…It was too perfect. Utterly panicked by his own thoughts of being sent back after but a few days of freedom, he pushed away from the table forcefully, having barely touched his meal. He fell to the ground, again prostrated himself at the feet of the old man, and began to beg, "Please, please sir…don't send us back, please don't…we mean no harm…we've done nothing to hurt…Oh …please!!!…" The words trailed off in favor of a pathetic keening sound.

His shocked fellow escapees were jolted by the sudden act, unsure of what had happened to prompt it, but instantly terrified. They were about to vacate their own chairs and follow Eddie's lead, when they were stilled by the simple firm command…"Don't…Please!!! Just don't…and son?" A wrinkled hand reached down to touch the shoulder of the trembling form and Samuel dropped from his own chair, sat on the floor and pulled the overwhelmed small blue figure to his chest as one might a beloved young child. "Don't know as what brought this on, I ain't gonna hurt ya or turn ya'll in. Now come and take yerself a hug from old Samuel here…that's the way, never hurt no one to take a hug." He rocked the tense figure and continued to whisper words of nonsense until the little demon relaxed and began to sob quietly, then seemed to nod off to sleep.

Spike staid Jonathon with a calming hand as they watched the scene. After Eddie calmed, Samuel nodded at the other three, and they slowly moved to surround their host and their friend on the floor.

Jonathan's tear filled eyes and the toothless lisping "Thank you.", garnered a gentle pat on the shoulder from their elderly host.

They remained on the floor for close to half an hour before Eddie seemed to recover and roused a little. They stood and began to return to their places, Samuel gently easing the very quiet blue individual into his chair. The others waited patiently but then reached for their utensils intent upon finishing to the now cold meal, reeling back confused when their host exclaimed "No, no, no!". The jolt of adrenalin caused Xander's stomach to grumble loudly but they all sat nervous, motionless and silent, none willing to risk a move.

"Oh Geez. My apologies folks…gonna have ta' explain myself a whole bunch ain't I…I just mean don't go eatin' it cold! If y'all can wait a minute or ten I'll have it up and pipin' hot! Now sit yerselves down …and I tell ya what …have one or two of these whilst ya waitin' …I know it's too darned early but figure as you folks need it…It's got a little more kick than yer average…but I ain't gonna excuse that!"

Samuel quickly gathered up all the plates, placed a large glass bottle of home brewed beer on the table along with five mismatched tumblers.

"Now, one of you will have to do the honors 'til I'm done with yer food."

Spike took up the bottle reverently, and tilted each glass shakily to he pour each of his fellow diners a drink of the rich amber liquid. Four groans accompanied the first draft of the beer. By the second mouthful, even the vampires had felt the effects and relaxed a little. Jonathon reached over took Eddie's free hand and squeezed, Xander did the same for Spike.

Sometime later, the four had struggled to do justice to the homemade hot food. Samuel noticed with horror that his lisping guest seemed unable to bite anything, simply sucking at his food. He had saw the raw cut on that one's blue friend's arm and wondered.

A short time later, as the blonde reached for the brunette's hand again, and their host noticed deep bite wounds on both wrists, and winced as he gazed at the horrendously rough nature of the ocular implant. He chatted amicably and after several minutes of discussing the farm and receiving taciturn, vague answers to any of his questions to the group decided to trust his gut instinct.

"I know you folks are from the Initiative institute that was done in a few nights back," Mumbling under his breath, "and praise the lord for that." Then continued, "I'm guessing you are part of our 'glorious' government's 'cleansing' program…and before any of you panic again…I should also…me one of the hunted…"

Spike looked at the old man hard, trying to sense a difference, but his head buzzed a little with the alcohol, and his brain simply would not compute now that his stomach was actually full – even if only with human food. As Samuel continued with his story, all four companions could not help but wonder at the confluence of events and serendipity that had led to them to their current freedom…and survival.

Samuel's mother had been part Maori and a practicing Wiccan…borne and bred in the north island of New Zealand. She had fallen in love with a US gunner during World War Two. He survived nearly eighteen months of a Japanese POW camp in Borneo before they 'got him out'. Samuel happily compared his guests' current state to stories of his father's early days after his liberation.

They had moved to the farm in the US, but his mother had kept to herself a great deal – aware of her 'foreigner' status, even in looks and more so in magical leanings. She did bring all her magical skills with her, however rarely practiced more than in a healer's capacity.

He was borne eight years after their move to the USA. She died when her son was ten. His father passed on slowly after that. Samuel figured 'they'd call it somethin' fancy like emphysema these days'. The reality was that he was left with the farm at twenty but at thirty, still single, started to have 'fits' accompanied by bizarre visions.

A local doctor decided it was a form of epilepsy, and Samuel was put on to some hefty medication.

By forty, the fits gradually became accompanied by very clear visions. With no one around him, he fell into melancholy and confusion, and was treated for anxiety and depression. Eventually he admitted 'an edited version' of what he 'saw' to another doctor and was consequently diagnosed with a form of schizophrenia…By his fifties, he was a regular visitor to a private respite for those who suffered 'mental distress', occasionally choosing to use their live-in facilities when the visions became too overwhelming. He knew the true reason for his severe 'attacks', as he approached his late fifties, was the constant images of death and mayhem caused by the Initiative's slaughter.

Fortunately as the first Initiative sweeps came through, he was deemed an invalid and non demon. In the second 'round up' (even though his visions were being shared with a select few), the testimony of an elderly local preacher and some sympathetic neighbors had him labeled an 'unfortunate sufferer of mental illness' and not of interest. And as the last purge of the area passed (taking with it several of his magically inclined contacts) fortune had it, that he was again 'resting' for a month in a respite for the mentally ill two counties away.

Despite it all, he had managed to survive on the farm and investigated the occult, eventually dabbling in witchcraft using his mother's (still securely hidden) books. He slowly came to know the 'fits' for what they were, and when he found it possible, he passed on the messages the visions contained. He knew when he had, it made a difference. Over time he had become a very quiet member of the resistance movement working for 'non humans', continuing to help the persecuted quietly, whenever he could. The locals around simply seemed to think him a harmless, mentally impaired, chicken farmer, and he did not bother to correct the impression.

As he ceased speaking and rose to collect their plates, he took in the far more relaxed posture of his guests and decided it was time.

"So that's me, and now ya know enough to have me arrested good 'n proper. So can ya do me the honor of introducin' yerselves."

Despite his currently dulled senses, Spike had detected the pain, fear and anger as the man had continued his story, and felt its truth. He answered Samuel quietly, "I'm William, I am an ensouled vampire and a Master of the Aurelian line. This was my second time in the hands of the 'Initiative'. This is my friend Xander, borne on the Hellmouth, a human, friend of the only Slayer at that time and White Hat warrior. He was taken for his sympathies…" He squeezed Xander's hand and was about to continue when Eddie began to speak quietly.

"I am Edwin, I am a Parsalas demon. We are a peaceful race. I am the last of our family, we were all taken." He paused after a hitched breath, composed himself a little then continued as he saw Samuel's gaze fall on the other silent figure, "This is Jonathon, my dear, gentle vampire and my friend." Then blurted out "They took all his teeth!! He is only a fledge of ten and they kept taking his teeth!"

"Yes, son I guessed 'bout the teeth…" He returned to the table and looked at the two vampires particularly, "Now I honestly don't reckon I have a supply of the real stuff y'all need but if ya can stand it, we can probably scrape by on a few donations from the bigger animals 'til we come up with somethin'. Sorry ta admit that all I can offer is the old tornado shelter or the attic for sleepin' with four of you 'n all, go for the shelter if I were you…Attic's a mite cluttered…" Sighs of relief and heartfelt words of gratitude came from around the table as they all heard the 'we' and the indication that Samuel expected them to stay.

"Right well that's settled. I'll sort out some beddin' later so long as y'all can amuse yerselves today. Fer now it's work time so I'll leave you ta sort the dishes." With that he stood, collected an old plastic bucket and battered hat from near the door, whistled the dog and departed out the back door of the house. He left behind four overwhelmed but deeply grateful guests to tidy up, then rest for the day.

They cleaned up the remains of breakfast as instructed, after Samuel left, then wandered the house a little lost and utterly exhausted. There had been no permission given or refused regarding which room exactly they were to be in, whether they should sleep or what they might touch. The bedroom was out of the question of course, private space. The bathroom, though an aqua blue and odd yellow color, was still tiled and cold…too reminiscent of their recent compulsory accommodations. The lounge was the only possibility for rest but the driving need for all four to be in the one place, for comfort and for courage, steered them away from the couch and led them to settling for the rug in front of the hearth. The fireplace was cold and the rug an old shag pile from the seventies, but it was softer than the bare boards and they were together.

As they lay down in their habitual fashion, spooned sardine-like, Xander tugged a hand crocheted, multicolored, rather worn throw rug from the couch, bringing with it two tattered looking cushions. The wealth was distributed. Two heads shared each pillow and the throw was stretched to cover three quarters of everyone. Eddie gasped at Xander's audacity; Jonathon held him; Spike snuggled; and Xander ventured a smile as his head joined Spike's on the small cushion. Within minutes they had all given in to sleep.

Two delivery vans and a postman's motorbike disturbed their slumber a little during the morning. Two nightmares and a scream of anguish woke them completely early afternoon. Two friends realized it was Spike in the throws of a dream and Xander offered his wrist to quell and quiet. They all pulled closer and slept on.

Samuel returned to the house mid afternoon and spied his guests in the lounge room still on the mat. His countenance fell as he recognized their desperation, even in sleep. The four figures were pressed so closely that they appeared as one. Rather than disturbing the sleeping figures, he nudged Missy who was at heel, and they both backed silently into the kitchen.

He pushed the large tub of cow's blood into the fridge, stood the bucket of fresh milk in the cool pantry to stand, and emptied his pockets of the lemons he'd picked on the way through. He nudged the kettle onto the hotplate of the stove and began to scribble the date on eggs collected earlier that morning. He was almost done when a sleepy brunette emerged followed by a rather disorientated looking blonde. They stood nervously by the door, then finally Xander plucked up the courage to ask. Still gripping his friend's hand, he looked up and said, "Umm…Is there anything…Ummmm…Is there anything we can do to help?"

Samuel smiled and responded warmly, "Why sure son!! A'course ya can help! It's a farm…always somethin' ta do…glad ya asked…" He reached into the pantry, easing out an enormous white bucket filled with the milk from the previous day and nodded at Spike.

"Don't know your background son but you reckon you could skim the cream and put this lot into them bottles?" He nodded at the sink where a funnel and collection of glass bottles waited.

Spike brightened and gave Samuel a naughty grin, "So long as the help can have a spoon of the cream." To which the old man snorted, "No problem…plenty more where that came from…And by the way when you're done there's a treat in the fridge for ya…It's ta share with your friend in there mind, and y'all can thank Shirelee for it later (she's the black 'n white one with the horns). But yer friend here is gonna be lackey fer the chef…"

Samuel grabbed Xander's arm and tugged him toward the door, all the while handing him an ancient paring knife, slinging an open basket over his arm and shoving a beaten up old Stetson hat on his head. "I need you ta collect some vegetables for supper…don't care what, just gotta be enough for the whole lota ya – patch is down the back there. 'N don't you go frettin'…maybe plenty of sunlight but there ain't no one gonna see." He all but pushed the man out the door then turned to see Spike carefully and rather expertly skimming the cream from the bucket into a wide mouthed ceramic jar provided.

He asked quietly, "Where'd ya learn to do that?"

Before he had time to think, Spike answered rather wistfully in his original upper class English accent, "Cook used to let me help sometimes."

Samuel recognized the slip for what it was, and ran with it, "Reckon ya ta be quite the fine helper, how old were ya then?"

Spike's eyes glazed over even further as he remembered, "I guess I was around five or six. If Mother was out, Nanny Cartwright had the habit of a nap in the afternoon, so it was my good fortune to have the run of the house. Cook told wonderful stories when prompted…And I remember she had huge arms, and always smelled of cinnamon and cloves." Samuel noted the wistful demeanor and decided to push a little more.

"So England?"

Spike was caught in his own reverie but also began receiving vague feeling of happiness…strangely…he realized…from Xander…Their regular blood exchange was having an effect despite no official claiming or mating. He refocused on Samuel and answered…"Indeed…"

"So ifn' it aint a rude question…when son…?" His voice dropped to a near whisper, "When were you turned?"

Spike looked at their host and answered with utter honesty, "Eighteen eighties…shortly after the twenty sixth birthday…bloody baby I was…"

"Well my lord…and here's me callin' you son!" Samuel smiled at the vampire and it was returned easily, then Spike fell back into the speech patterns he was now used to.

"'S OK mate, I forget the age thing meself most of the time. And being called 'son'? More than happy, so long as you don't mind the occasional 'Pa'." Spike gave his best 'naughty boy' grin and his *younger* host roared with laughter then turned to make a pot of coffee. Spike was about to continue the easy conversation, when he was hit by a jolt of panic through a tenuous bloodlink. He dropped all premise of attending to what Samuel was saying, and raced toward the back door of the house.

Xander had been bustled out of the building before really acknowledging to himself what that might mean. It was not so much the sunlight, it was the abundance of it and the vastness of the sky. He faced an open space bathed in light so brilliant that his implant ached terribly and his good eye watered. It had been more than two years since he had been outside in the day.

The back door slammed shut and the rather shaky former Scooby stood contemplating how best to cross the yard. They had been outside when on the run but always in the cover of darkness. Outside still held fear, more the 'what ifs' than real threats, but fear nonetheless. What if he was seen? What if someone came? What if…He edged his way around the yard using the various buildings as 'cover' then finally plucked up the courage to sprint across the wide, lit gap between chook house and rickety stand alone garage. From there he nervously entered the exposed vegetable patch.

He felt ridiculous being so uptight about such a simple task, yet had utterly no control over his own body's reactions. The sun was glorious, warm and bright…too bright for his good eye and warm on his skin, yet he began to shiver as though it were mid winter. He pulled a few carrots and took a head of lettuce but he could not settle his thoughts. By the time he had gathered vine ripe tomatoes and a few herbs, he was frantic. The wind rustled leaves on a nearby tree. Instead of picking the basil as he had intended, he pulled it up by the roots, threw it into the basket and sprinted for the back door.

With the painful emotions flowing freely to him, Spike was up and heading for the door. Samuel heard the panicked footfalls and opened the screen for his terrified guest. He kicked himself for forgetting the still raw effects of their incarceration and torture, and resolved that solo activities might need to be 'passed over' for a time.

Xander all but dove into Spike's arms and the two promptly fell to the floor. The intrepid garden harvester was embarrassed and ashamed, but could do little more than bury his face in the worn flannel shirt Spike sported, and allow himself to be hugged and comforted. Eddie wandered into the kitchen just as Xander began to regain his composure. The two exchanged a rueful smile. There really was no way to explain the feelings, nor a need to.

Samuel simply lifted the laden basket onto the table and retrieved the produce that had escaped to the floor during Xander's fall. He then continued to make coffee as though two men hugging for comfort on his kitchen floor was a daily occurrence.

Vampire and friend finally stood, Spike returning to his task of bottling the milk. Xander joined Eddie who was now sitting at the table shelling some peas that had landed in front of him, courtesy of Samuel (with the accompanied "Idle hands do no one any favors" reminder). Xander turned to the elderly host looking apologetically at the basket of gathered vegetables.

"I'm sorry about the plant." He touched the basil he had wrenched from the ground in panic, now lying limp in the basket. Before he had finished speaking, Samuel had placed a piping hot cup of coffee in front of both 'sun resistant' parties and patted the human on the back. "It's OK son…It's OK! Figure you boys have some issues. Besides! Been plannin' to have a planter box nearby the door for months…" With that, he picked up the basil, pulled off a few leaves for dinner then headed outside to retrieve pot and dirt to pot said herb.

Samuel's four guests eventually all pitched in to making supper. They sat in silence but did eat a little more than at breakfast, and the vampires were served with 'Chateau Shirelee' and all seemed to avoid any 'anguished outbursts' during the meal.

At the conclusion of dinner, Samuel congratulated each of his assistants, noting Eddie's rather teary response to the compliment. He then led them outside to the tornado shelter.

The well equipped space had lighting equipment and a generator 'ready to go'. More importantly, there were two double futons, a 'port-a-potty' and make-shift shower.

"Apology's folks, two doubles is all I could manage!"

Eddie moved to sit on one of the beds while Jonathon stood rather protectively beside him. Xander and Spike took the other bed and looked across at their fellow fugitives a little puzzled by the vampire's sudden possessive bent.

"Hopin' y'all will be right comfy here. And just so's ya know…never was an Orwell fan so there ain't no fancy cameras or nothin' down there. Just a nice family affair." The elderly gent gave a kindly smile to the blue demon and his (now assumed) partner Jonathon, then noted the continuing look of distress on Eddie's face. He moved to squat in front of the pair seated on the right hand bed.

"What's up son?…" He sat and was about to take the small demon's hand when he received a desperate reply…

"I just…it's just…" Tears began and could not be stopped…Jonathon moved lightening fast and pulled him into a hug. Samuel shifted back a little to watch as the (apparently!) soulless demon held, stroked and rocked his lovely partner…

" C'mon dear heart …you're OK…we're OK…we're OK…talk to me…please dear heart, talk to me!" Jonathon was in game face making his absence of teeth even more obvious, but the 'true face' leant weight to the tender gesture of rubbing foreheads together as ridges met smooth blue.

Samuel patted the vampire on the knee then stood to give the two space, "I'm sorry to have upset him son, guess I just figured I needed to know what prompts the tears."

A drawn blue face turned to their kind host and whispered, "I'm the *male* of our species, but the Initiative changed my status…They…They…They…I'm with child, sir …Jon knows…I am with child!…and I need…I need…Oh gahhh" Eddie burst into tears again.

Samuel sat silently for a few moments then asked quite matter of factly, "You know what it…"

Eddie cut him off, "It's pure bred, from our own family DNA. Oh Gahhh…Jon…um Jon…oh gahh please!!!" Jonathon wrapped his arms even tighter and held on fast as Eddie sobbed inconsolably. "They killed…and they took…then…um then…Oh gahhh…Why??? Why would…?? I'm…[hic] with…[hic]…child…"

Spike smelt it. Waves of unadulterated anger and incensed hurt flowed from their host Samuel, yet he managed to address them all in very controlled voice, "The ones who did this will pay. And Edwin?…you 'n your little-uns are welcome here." He then nodded at the others, reserving a special smile for Jonathon, "As are you all."

By the time Samuel was showing them out of the tornado shelter, Jon had been stroking his blue friend for almost two hours and they were seriously talking of bringing up Eddie's children on Sam's farm. Spike squeezed Xander's hand as they casually nodded their support for the 'odd couple'.

Samuel smiled then leaned over to the vampire blonde and human brunette simply saying, "Your time is coming…you already have a taste…this moment is only the beginning…you cannot go wrong by loving freely."

Xander looked up utterly confused…"What??"

The question was left unanswered and Samuel bustled them back into the house to collect some extra bedding, additional clothes and snack food in case they woke peckish before sundown. It would be possible to get to the shelter in the shade of the house of an afternoon but the vampires would have to stay put for the first part of the day given the easterly position of the shelter.

Once that was settled Spike assisted Samuel as he mixed up some plaster of Paris. Spike checked the alignment of the bones in Xander's forearm, the splint seemed to have done enough to hold them steady. Samuel expertly wrapped the arm with gauze and the white paste. He patted his patient on the knee and promised to strap Xander's still painful ribs in due course. "Jes plum outa tape, I'll sort it today for ya…Right…next youngster…" He looked over to Jonathon who blanched even whiter than his normal shade of pale. They all knew, the leg would have to be re-broken and set properly.

The toothless vampire moved to the floor and Eddie shifted to sit behind his friend. He pulled him tight to his chest and reopened the slice across his wrist with a knife. As Eddie pressed the dripping wound to Jon's mouth, Spike took the leg and with Samuel's help cracked the bones again and forced them to properly align. Despite the distraction of drinking, Jonathon cried out around the wrist. He fell limp and passed out as Samuel swiftly created the cast while Spike continuing the slight tension on the limb to keep it straight.

"Ain't much I can do 'bout that eye o' yours little one, I'm sorry, but I sure as heck can give somethin' fer the pain and a bit of a patch to stop the dirt." Eddie simply nodded his thanks and continued to hold his unconscious friend.

For the next few weeks, a pattern began to establish itself and became a quiet and welcome routine.

Most deliveries and pickups happened at the farm in the morning. Samuel's eggs and chickens left for market along with the occasional box of vegetables and less frequently, a brace of rabbits.

Early afternoon they would emerge to the shade of the house. Xander and Eddie busied themselves collecting eggs and tending the garden. Eddie proving the most useful in the horticulture area, and taking great delight as the vegetable patch flourished under his loving touch. Xander provided the muscle once his ribs began to heal and cast came off. The garden was extended and Eddie delighted as his own bump grew (surprisingly quickly) apparently keeping pace with the produce!

They were all careful to have a cover story ready in the event that they might be seen – particularly in the day. Consequently a bee hive was placed in the corner of the patch and Eddie always had the full bee keeper overalls on when working and the all encompassing hat and gloves ready should they have visitors. With his softly spoken voice and small stature (and now obviously pregnant state) Xander and he were to give the story that Xander was one of Samuel's friends from the hospital, and Samuel was helping out 'Edwina and Alex' in their time of need. Happily the excuse was never needed for Eddie.

Eventually Xander split his time between the garden and the shed where he had discovered an ancient lathe and various woodworking tools. He sharpened the tools with expert hands and spent the first few weeks restoring every chair in the house to 'mint condition', even using a cured cow hide from a few years previous to re-cover Samuel's mother's favorite piece, a chaise lounge. Originally rickety and 'stored' in the bedroom, it had been Samuel's turn to shed a tear of gratitude when Xander opened the door of his bedroom to reveal the now spectacular, cherished item.

After fixing cupboards and renewing doors Xander ran out of 'handyman' projects and began making new pieces.

He was in the shed sanding a broad, naturally shaped piece for the top of a coffee table when a soft touch and a loud female voice sent a jolt of fear through the link to Spike, who was in the house on his 'milk duty'. Anguish flowed through the link, which should have been expected, yet even after five months, the vampire watched helplessly and utterly unable to traverse the sunny space. He felt the terror personally and watched the female enter the work shed further.

Xander immediately turned off the sander and removed his goggles, but his gaze simply could not be raised to look at the woman in the face as he thanked every deity he knew for the fortunate of having the black eye patch on, (mostly to stop the horrendous pain that implant was still eliciting every time it was hit by too much light).

Kathleen was bursting with good cheer given the lovely, if overly so, "Well Hi!!! I'm lookin' fer Sam…?"

It was coming up for two and a half years since Xander had interacted with a woman – other than one or two of the Initiative scientists. He immediately went very red, which Kathleen interpreted as shyness, though for Xander it was pure unadulterated fear and confusion. "Umm…ummm…" He quickly recalled the 'cover story', "I'm ummm…ummm…I'm a friend of Samuel's from the respite centre? And ummm…ummm…he said I can be here and ummm…oh gahhh…" Xander couldn't work out his piqued anxiety, and was close to tears, yet felt compelled to keep talking, "I ummm…Well I'm making stuff and I've been fixing all his furniture and I guess you're a neighbor um…um…[sighs in desperation] Geez sorry!"

A kindly voice cut him off now the noise had ceased, "Hey honey, it's fine!!! Sammy's always bringin' home a stray or two. Mind if I take a look at ya work?" Xander's confusion turned to embarrassment as the rather portly woman all but pushed past him and began to look around the shed.

"Sure um I'm…it's not all that good." He looked up at the wall and noted gratefully, but a little belatedly, that the pentagram had been painted over. The entire space was apparently devoted to the making of fine furniture. One completed table stood in the back corner, ready to be carried into the house and five 'natural' table tops were stacked waiting for legs, plus there was the beginnings of a mobile 'cutting board/central island' for a kitchen evident near the only window.

"Why this is *gorgeous* work! You funny young thing, there ain't no way you should be tellin' fibs about your talent…seems as you are quite the artiste!" She noted the eye patch, the thin frame and the downcast eyes, and drew some assumptions of her own. He was obviously one of those food problem/depression/artist types that Sam had taken under his wing. He was younger than the usual ones that came through Sam's 'care for the similarly afflicted' and decided that there wasn't anything quite so nice as Kathleen's pie and her abundant motherly care to put this young one back on track!

"Now if you're anythin' like Sam's past borders, you're jus' gonna hafta come meet a few…"

Xander's arms flew around himself and he began backing off "Noo…I can't …I'm sorry I can't…" Spike was almost about to sprint across the sunlit quadrangle when an elderly calm hand found his shoulder. "It'll be OK son, it's just Kathleen…our lovely friend Kathleen…s'long as your dear Xander sticks to the story it will be fine…"

Spike thought of all the Xander babble of years gone by and the awkwardness and the covering up of a sharp mind, yet simply wasn't comforted.

Samuel recognized the panic for what it was and rather than risk a desperate sprint by Spike, Samuel did something he had never ventured before. "Trust me son…trust me on this one…Your friend is gonna be fine…we'll all be fine!" Spike quickly came to his senses with the smell of pure human blood mixed with a familiar scent. He took the limb with all the reverence it deserved, but instead of drinking as Samuel expected, drips were carefully caught and the wound laved until closed without taking any extra. Samuel looked puzzled at the obviously distressed vampire.

Spike looked up with crystal blue eyes brimming with appreciative tears, "Deeply appreciated mate, but best kept for desperate times…Just those few drops…from a friend 'n all…gesture means the more than you will ever know…" Spike finished by kissing the already healing wound, then the hand below it. They stood and waited to see what transpired. Finally foot steps were heard heading for the back door. Spike made himself scarce. He took a large pile of basil and mint into the bedroom along with a couple of bowls resigned to sitting and stripping said leaves ready for processing into pesto and mint sauce respectively.

Kathleen had taken her time, but eventually Xander tentatively ushered her into the house with promises of "tea or coffee or …". Kathleen was utterly intrigued. She had quickly decided that Xander was the classic example of the 'tortured artist', sensitive to a fault and terribly fragile. She resolved to take him under her wing…or more importantly his woodwork!

The consequent tea and discussion with Samuel, revealed his intention to host a 'few such friends' over his retiring years, something Kathleen had been trying to encourage for some time, she felt gleefully responsible for her lovely new acquaintance. Samuel was renown for inviting rather 'limited' or 'dubious' types into his home, something that had always bothered his supportive neighbors. But this 'Alex' was a whole different character. He looked lost and sad, consistent with a life plagued by mental problems, but also had a passion and obvious artistic talent when it came to wood.

She ordered three tables, for a fixed price, and promised to sell them (and take orders) at the next farmers market. She was also keen to search for a local gallery that might be interested…all for a 'finder's fee', which Samuel happily agreed to.

Shortly after she left, Jonathon hobbled in from the back. His leg was still not quite healed which still was not quite right, but Spike had taken on the role of Sire for the fledge, and since then, he seemed to be much more balanced. In the first weeks of his leg in plaster, they had been forced tie to him down during the sunshine hours after two dream induced suicide attempts also risked his other sunshine allergic compatriot and their hiding place. He apologized but also seemed to fall further into depression. It was then that Spike stepped in. Better fed, he felt it his duty and privilege.

With the blood of a Master in his system, the young fledge quickly regained much of his speech, life memories and general intelligence. The toothless vampire had not been turned as a minion, but the childe had been deprived of his Sire and blood of any type for so long (courtesy of Initiative hosts), that he was seriously compromised until Spike began his regular feedings. He had been a veterinary graduate student when turned, though he did not remember the detail of his training until Spike stepped in.

They discovered that he had been chipped one afternoon. Just after Xander's ribs had been strapped, Jonathon inadvertently fell on his fellow fugitive as he reached for the blood supply and slipped on a slightly wet patch on the kitchen floor. Xander cried out in pain when his chest was struck, but Jonathon had screamed in agony, curled up on the floor and continued to keen for many minutes. Spike knew the signs. He had never seen the younger vampire kill, had assumed it was tooth related, but now they knew. Spike was hoping to bring him back from his 'broken' status as his position as 'father' to Eddie's two or possibly three children loomed as a reality.

Jonathon was utterly dedicated to the blonde as surrogate Sire, but enamored and increasingly devoted to his beautiful Eddie. Something both Samuel and Spike encouraged. Regardless of all other 'attributes', his animal husbandry and surgeon skills were invaluable to the elderly farmer as the 'creature of the night' joyfully assisted with nighttime deliveries of several calves and advised on some of the more complicated techniques. Samuel began buying the 'higher end' journals from the web and Jonathon read as he held his ever more pregnant partner, and read…and read…

In month seven of their stay, Eddie, with the help of his beautiful vampire's surgeon's skills, delivered three exquisite, tiny blue forms with huge blue eyes. Two girls and a boy. Jonathon cried openly as he kissed his beautiful partner and wrapped each tiny form in a fluffy white towel. The household rejoiced as 'Willow, Jessie and Samuel the second" joined their number. The children slept in the arms of friends as their exhausted parent recovered under the careful eye of his lover/doctor.

Xander felt strangely jealous as he held the tiny snuggling form. His own hormone treatment had left him teary, physically weaker and with strong sexual feelings for Spike, but no child, and the residual legacy of no body hair and unpredictable libido. But beyond any other effect left over after some eight months since the Initiative, it was his ocular implant that continued to bother.

He often wondered of late…"Pain"…noun or verb?

Over the previous few months, Xander had been increasingly concerned that his ambiguous sexual status and constant 'episodes' with the implant had rendered him unworthy of…anything…Spike had never failed to reassure or caress, but like Jon's teeth that seemed impossibly slow to repair, Xander's continued hormonal imbalance was the cause of serious concern. By month three, Xander's tiny breasts had all but disappeared, but his body definitely appeared to be cycling hormonally on a monthly basis. He was still missing body hair and his skin was unusually soft to the touch. More worryingly, his morning erection simply did not occur any more. He wondered if he was 'capable' any more. Ironically it had been Jonathon who first broached the subject with Spike in month four of their stay, in the context of his own compromised status…and (at that time) impending fatherhood.

"Sire, we have discussed my teeth but may I speak freely with you of another matter."

At the time, the two vampires were lying on the same bed in the early afternoon, intertwined as had been their habit since Spike 'adopted' Jon as his Childe. Their partners were on 'garden duty', so this was a couple of hours of quiet time for the vampires. The formal address gave Spike pause. This was something important. He answered accordingly…

"Of course Childe, what is it that troubles you?"

"I believe your friend…um your partner…um consort? I believe that Xander's hormonal struggles have gone well beyond his injected treatments. If you permit me Sire, I can do a couple of simple tests to prove the same." Jonathon watched nervously as the blonde fell into game face and began to growl. "They are non-invasive …Oh please Sire…I would never hurt Xander! But Sire…he is being hurt daily…and we need to know why…Please let me try to help…Please Sire, you have done *so* much for Ed…and me…and…just…Please! For Xander…!"

Spike began stroking his adopted Childe's now thick, shoulder length locks, then ran his fingers along the mere beginnings of white bumps on the violated gums. They were in themselves puzzling. Samuel suggested that there must have been magical intervention for vampire healing not to have replaced them more quickly…but for the Initiative to do that…well, they were breaking their own 'rules' if they had any. But it did also beg the question as to whether Xander's 'challenged state' was similarly related.

Jonathon conducted numerous simple and non invasive tests. Xander had been patient and the results confirmed their suspicions. Despite the initial withdrawal symptoms after their escape, something within Xander was still causing him to have extremely high levels of estrogen and low testosterone, more akin to a female system than a human male. Yet he was still able to achieve an erection…with determined physical encouragement. It all made little sense. Eventually, all privy to the results came to the same conclusion. Something had been done or inserted in one of their many trips to the Initiative 'labs,' and apparently it was now permanent. Whether it was 'medical' or magical in nature could not be established without the aid Samuel's Wiccan contacts. Xander slumped in his chair as that news came to light.

All adult parties agreed, the physical connection with Spike was vital for Xander's mental well-being and should be encouraged. Spike agreed readily. Xander simply worried that 'everyone knew'. But in the fifth month of their freedom, kisses and caresses became more…much more…and the brunette honestly could not care that family was aware of their undoubted 'bed buddy' status. By then Spike was already able to bring him to the brink of tears, and the beginnings of arousal, with a simple, pointed smile across a room. If they were touching in any way, Xander now found himself 'rising to the moment' for his blonde friend. That in itself, came as something of a relief.

It had been a Friday night when the major shift in Xander and Spike's relationship occurred, after so many months of sharing sleep with the kissing-friend.

The chaise lounge had been dragged in from the bedroom so the then heavily pregnant Eddie and Jon could perch in sight of the tiny television while Sam had his favorite chair and the other two took the lounge. The film was not Xander's usual fare, 'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, by Tom Stoppard'. Two of the 'oldies' in the room were Shakespeare experts. Xander, Jon and Eddie were simply amazed that they followed any of it at all…Xander smiled as his lovely vampire delighted in the complex philosophical banter, rejoiced in the 'tragedians' and preempted the lines of Hamlet, then delighted in the game of 'question tennis'.

Xander socket insert began to throb around the middle of the film, so he shifted to lie behind Spike, no longer trying to watch the bright screen. The vampire joined him, their heads now sharing an aptly placed cushion. Samuel smiled knowingly and patted Xander on the arm, as he wandered past on the way to making a pot of tea. The blonde in front of the human remained oblivious to the gesture, utterly taken in by the play and mouthing the words from Hamlet that were interwoven into the new text.

Xander smiled to himself, and began to stroke down Spike's side, then stroked, and stroked…until his friend began to reflexively purr…They had played the 'caress and purr' game before.

Spike was engrossed in the movie, so Xander snuggled closer to spoon his lovely friend, continuing to caress the pale torso from behind. His hand wandered to rub Spike's burgeoning erection through the material of his jeans he whispered, "I'd like more of this after…"

Spike's hardness twitched against the material in the hands of the prospective lover. And as the movie finished, he rolled to face the owner of the hand. "C'mon Pet. Let's skip the tea, and work with this good and proper." He cupped Xander's erection and squeezed, "Then we can explore a few more techniques see if we can't sort your morning's out."

Spike bade their friends goodnight and led him to their sleeping quarters. Xander's eye took on the guise of the 'deer in headlights' as Spike stripped them both and tugged a tube of lube from a small clothes cupboard. He realized Samuel must have supplied it. The human shook a little and worried that his performance might not be 'up to scratch', but as their coupling progressed in earnest, Xander relaxed. He was the partner to a considerate and passionate lover, and there was no doubt that Spike also wanted this, wanted Xander! Xander was stunned that the Master Vampire wasn't repelled by him, by his strangely effeminate skin and softer body, by his missing eye and precarious emotions. After all, Spike was perfect: hard body, now back, almost to 'fighting weight'; immaculate skin; and exquisite unmarred face. Xander was utterly enamored by the beautiful blonde Master, now stretched full length against him, yet Spike had no doubts and matched his passion.

The consistent evidence of Xander's arousal following their first encounter was a relief; his willingness to experiment with his newfound sexuality enthusiastic; and his deepening love for his partner openly acknowledged. Spike rejoiced in the downy soft skin and rather slim, rounded lines of his male partner. His own preferences ran to both genders, so there was not ever a question of the attractiveness of his lovely brunette. Xander's hormonal situation saw him alternating between lusting after Spike and needing a 'reassuring shag', regardless their coupling was once or twice…or (in bad times), more per day. Jon and Eddie learned to 'ride the passion wave' with them…but as Eddie came close to delivery and their own lovemaking slowed, they generally opted for a quiet evening stroll, or sat on the 'Xander built' porch seat until the enthusiastic couple finished their activities.

Eddie's babies changed all their lives as the family rallied to care for the tiny individuals. Xander found himself treating them as though he had carried them to term himself, and finally confided in Spike that he really didn't mind having a body that thought it was part woman, if it meant that one day he might indeed have their children. Spike had snorted at the notion of his lover getting 'knocked up', but was quietly pleased that Xander was more comfortable in his own skin, and finally talking about his hopes and feelings. Their lovemaking matured over the next few months and became less desperate, as Xander fully accepted his status. Babies were unlikely though perhaps not out of the question; he was the lover/mate of a Master Vampire; he was hormonally at least, female; he loved Spike and was loved back; he had an odd version of family around him; and for the first time in, forever, he felt content.

However, Xander's headaches had continued, made worse by the ocular implant sparking painfully at increasingly shorter intervals. Thought compared with Samuel's ever more frequent and more painful visions, Xander felt fortunate. The problem was that there were sharp jolts of electricity and blinding sparks of white without context, they remained intermittent and fairly short lived. The last seven months of transmissions/impulses from his implant had contained no real images, just electrical jolts, and pain, and increasingly a mental confusion as his brain was apparently scrambled from the ocular centre out. The only blessing was that it was extremely unlikely that there were any outgoing signals but if so they would constitute a jumble of interrupted colors and obscured, out of focused images, similar to those sent by a damaged unit, free of a functional body.

Spike and Xander had their own suspicions about the implant being out of operation but still worried in their first days with Samuel. Their host had tested for radio signals and various other frequencies as Xander stared painfully into a lamp, then into the dark. The implant was most definitely damaged, therefore they were indeed somewhat luckily. It simply provided pain without transmitting a signal. Xander covered the instrument with a patch almost permanently, and bore the hurt stoically, but ultimately…they knew they would have to get it out…just as they all knew, Jonathan's chip had to go.

It was a Sunday, toward the end of month three of the triplet's lives. Jonathon and Spike were inside tending to Samuel, who was lying on the lounge with a damp towel on his head, a sports bottle of water beside him, and a bottle of painkillers ready and waiting. Soft classical music played in the background, Spike smiled as soft strains of the various arias from the Magic Flute and Madam Butterfly permeated the tiny home. Spike tended to their host yet again. The visions had been getting closer together all month and each time more devastating in their content.

After nearly ten months of liberal intervention bringing some relief to the persecuted demon community (invoked following a leak to the public detailing some the activities at the bombed Initiative 'medical centre), the Initiative were apparently 'ramping up' again. It was an election year. Things were 'not so positive' economically, so the threat of 'the other' was an easy agenda, and the politicians demanded Initiative become 'tougher', detailing the draconian measures they were prepared to back to keep 'people safe from the monsters'. The members of the farm's little 'blended' family all felt for Samuel. They gave him frequent hugs to try to compensate for the horrid images he continued to witness…but knew it would never be enough.

The afternoon had involved the three little folks being fed by loving parents and 'uncles' before Xander and Eddie took the tiny people into the sun. The miraculous little forms crawled around on a broad picnic rug next to the gardens while 'Da' and 'Unca' tended the rows of produce. The cooing and squeaks from the three little forms as they happily patted, cuddled and sucked each other (and various soft toys) were the sounds of pure innocent joy. Both Xan and Eddie listened and knew it…the heartfelt love and devotion, so strong that made the chest hurt, and when they looked up to catch each others' eye tears fell, even as leaves were picked and the three little figures enjoyed their afternoon under the cover of a pitched mosquito net …The two adults occasionally wandered over to blow 'raspberries' on tummies, and giving attention to each of the little ones in turn. They were picking the latest abundant crop of rocket lettuce ready for market in the morning.

The little figures squirmed and responded to the intermittent attention of family…and…all was well, until late in the afternoon…Xander fell to the ground in agony as he advanced on the small forms for another round of playtime. Fortunately he was several body lengths away from the helpless little people as he crashed to the ground. His ocular implant began to fire again and again. Eddie watched his lovely friend collapse and gave himself an internal kick for missing the signs. He had noticed twinge, the wince, the unnatural paling and stoic silence a few times during the afternoon. It all meant pain, but this did seem different, he grasped his friend's hand hard knowing the agony Jonathan's chip had caused, but had no other real comfort to offer.

Inside the house, Samuel all but passed out with the onslaught of a terrifying vision; Jonathon fell to the ground screaming as his chip fired for no apparent reason; and Spike's legs buckled when the pain flowing across his blood link with Xander hit him full force. This was no ordinary episode…

Samuel curled into a fetal position until Spike reached over and took his head into his cool lap for the third time that day. This time he also fed him a little of his own Master Vampire blood to their benefactor, mixing it into his drink bottle water. A teary-eyed Jonathon accepted a wrist from his Sire. While Eddie helped an extremely shaken Xander into the house, kissed Jonathon, then returned to the babies and his task. Xander replaced Jon on the wrist, and shed a tear as he took the precious blood. Spike continued to stroke the sweaty forehead of a quietly sobbing Samuel with his free hand.

Eventually Eddie came inside with the children all riding an enormous basket of rocket, said plants ready to be pushed into plastic bags for market as usual. Xander stood and moved to bring in the other two boxes inside while Eddie handed the now weary little figures to Spike, Jon and Sam, then busied himself fixing their afternoon bottles.

Finally with babies all suckling happily, the family surrounded Samuel. He fixed them, one by one, with a desperate gaze and shared his latest vision with his dear friends…and most definitely *his* family.

Along with the 'solution to the Demon Problem' (Spike unable to quell thoughts of the 'Final Solution' - The Third Reich - circa 1942), it was evident that the Initiative had been developing a way of sending messages to any of their devices, and the associated capability to destroy any of the Institute developed implants from a distance.

According to Samuel's visions, Jonathon and Xander's implants were prototypes, since then, many non-violent demons had been chipped, implanted with monitors, and released on 'limited home detention' terms. In the light of the latest political swing, the Initiative was planning to 'correct that error'. An application had been put to the Senate to use the remote destruction capability and 'neutralize these threats to society'. Samuel estimated they had three weeks to a month, before the legislation was passed and implemented, all fast tracked to coincide with the last Senate sitting before the election.

As they settled for the night, the mood was somber. If they could not remove Jon's chip and Xander's implant, the two would likely die or be permanently brain damaged. They *had* to get help.

The ensuing week was horrendous. The babies all seemed to pick up on the tension and were impossible to settle; Samuel's visions simply would not let up, to the point that he began self medicating with anti psychotic drugs for the first time in almost three years; Jonathan's teeth ceased extending yet again as the pain from the chip all but crippled him in waking hours; and Xander's implant had the human in the arms of his lover keening in pain at least four or five times a day.

In between tending to their increasingly incapacitated partners, seer and the intuitively upset small people, Spike and Eddie gradually tracked down the Wiccans they so desperately needed. With the current purges, only limited success came from Samuel's list, but then they had a most spectacular break from a totally unexpected source.

It was late Saturday afternoon and Spike and Eddie had been sitting on the internet for some time, all leads seemed to go nowhere.

Spike was good, but Eddie turned out to be *extremely* computer savvy. He set them up to 'piggyback' on other dynamic IP's in case the Initiative had filtering equipment to track or monitor sender and receiver. When that didn't always work, he worked a relay via sites on other continents. Happily it seemed that the totally wired open market China was the easiest jumping point.

They tracked a few Wiccan groups still operating as 'good earth groups', along with a couple of alternative medicine sites that Spike simply had a 'feeling about'. They recorded contact numbers where possible, and sent one or two obscure Emails but after day two of no success. It was day five and the two were becoming desperate.

After four hours in front of the screen, on a whim Spike simply went onto a music site and typed in " Nuevo Punk + Europe".

He came up with two hundred and thirty seven hits and oddly the first was www.dingoesAMB.co.uk. He clicked on the link and began to read their bio news.

"The 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' are long time survivors of the alternative scene and have recently reinvented themselves to…[blah blah]…Lead guitarist Oz …[blah blah] film career…[blah blah] …Sunnydale roots…[blah blah] perfect for the new wave of 'punk cross-overs' [blah blah] …"

It was apparent that they were now a France based band and had been doing rather well in Europe, and even more so after Oz's film career also took off. There were pictures…it was definitely Willow's old beau, the werewolf.

Spike held his breath and took a risk. He sent a 'fan' Email.

"To the lead singer Oz

Love your work.
Dingoes…bloody marvelous!
FYI we met once or twice at the Bronze years ago.
'Donut boy' says Hi.
Know we both fancied Red at some point…You still in contact?
Old times hey!
Love to treat you to a beer sometime (warm of course).
Scoobies forever!!

BlondieBear"

Spike felt ridiculous writing the last couple of lines but had no other way of getting the message across. Eddie read the note and looked utterly confused, but ultimately shrugged his shoulders and moved to feed Jessie who was fussing again which was threatening to wake the (finally) sleeping Will and Sam.

Within an hour, the reply came. A ping on their inbox marked heightened tension. Spike took a deep unnecessary breath, then opened the Email.

"Hey BB,

Thanks for the FB
Cool you're into Dingoes.amB.
High school …got it,
Ancient history man!
Glad to hear Donut boy is obviously still running
Wills and team have been backstage this year.
You organizing the reunion?
Would consider playing.
SMS our manager if you're out for our dates.
Great hearin' from you.

Oz"

Kathleen had generously given her second cellphone handset to Xander, mostly to ring in orders since Sam (who had no answer machine) often failed to 'pickup'! It had also been a gesture of contrition as Kathleen had 'bailed up' her lovely artist one afternoon as he loaded a spectacular DVD rack and matching wall unit onto her husband's pickup. She had been chatting about church and the children's schooling, then idly asked if he was still in contact with his friends from school. She had been a little offended by his total lack of response but changed her tune immediately, as he finally turned to reveal silent tears streaming from his good eye and oozing from under the patch. There were no more questions. She had stern words to Samuel then shoved the 'extra handset' into his hands. They had only used it twice since.

Spike took the risk and left an SMS message for the band's manager using a cell phone they had on loan from the neighbor.

"DAMB
Old frenz callin
Keen 2 engage
4 Oz
Luv 2 have U here
Red needed 2.
Urgent
Call back via net
BB"

All they could do now was wait.

Both Spike and Xander noticed that Kathleen's 'reseller percentage' crept up to around thirty percent over the time that his tables and other pieces were sold, but they didn't really mind.

Xander loved the process and the sense of contribution. Over the months, Kathleen had also met Samuel's 'other' guests William and Jonathon (month four and five respectively), both of whom she felt were far too pale and thin, and could do with a 'good few days in the sun', cursing their hospital for the lack of pallor particularly. Samuel easily answered questions of their residency with a story he had been constructing carefully for months. Kathleen was rather pleased to hear that they had all been released into his care indefinitely and though technically an invalid himself, they were effectively staying with him to 'ease back into life'. It was so close to the truth that there was no need for more detail. For the dear lady, it also explained their nervousness, odd foibles, and aversion to others, all the more reason to act in loco parentis for the group of 'lost boys'. She was doubly pleased to find the 'new additions' to the group were genteel, polite to a fault, and highly educated. And utterly dismayed to think that a lovely vet's depression and anxiety had stemmed from an assault in which his leg was broken and all his teeth were pulled out! (It was the only explanation Samuel could come up with!)

At month six, Kathleen began to question the likely duration of the boys' stay. Samuel recognized the question for what it was…their little farm was producing so much more, now that he had more hands to help…and Kathleen was effectively his wholesaler. Her farm had also benefited from Jonathan's skills when a nanny goat was unable to deliver, and a late night distress call was answered by both Sam and his lodger vet. Following the full recovery of a prize animal and the reassurance that the 'boys were staying, she made it her business to visit for afternoon tea every day she was not at market.

Kathleen had broached the issue of attending church a few times with each of 'her boys' but finally noticed the truly sad, and somewhat fearful, look on William's face and decided to leave the matter. There were a myriad of possibilities for that look she decided, all *clearly* pointed at something to do with a cruel and overly zealous, religious parent as the cause of his current 'troubled state'. She was also unsurprised when the suggestion of meeting some of her lady friends was met by a similar negative reaction. Though she did manage to introduce her perky, fifteen year old daughter Davina one afternoon. The curious teenager quickly latched on to Spike, disgustedly reporting to her mother that she thought they were 'all gay' when her rather obvious flirting raised no interest whatsoever. Kathleen simply snorted and patted her daughter on the leg, and explained to her about 'genteel behavior'. She was privately relieved, very happy to be friends with any of the 'challenged neighbors' but thankful that there seemed little chance of them ever becoming 'family'.

Miraculously Eddie and the children stayed well hidden. Agoraphobia, depression, schizophrenia, anxiety attacks were all believable, but tiny (albeit adorable) blue demon babies rather less easy to explain!

They had just had another late afternoon tea visit from their energetic neighbor when Spike's SMS was returned with simple instructions "Our site, Encrypt". The ensuing exchange resulted in an internet supported call, later they would learn that the relays for the call were 'more worry than they were worth to trace' according to Devon, the manager (a Sunnydale escapee and original member of the band apparently)…There was little choice. It was ten days in to Samuel's three week deadline. Xander was medicated and for the time, was at least, pain free, so he sat holding hands with his lover as Spike began the call.

Two rings were on the screen before the recipient admitted the call, "Oz here. Speak."

Spike pointed the 'hands free mic.' to his partner, and gestured for the rather shocked Xander to speak, "Hey buddy."

"Xanman"

"Not so much these days but yeah…Ahhhh you good?"

"Complaints, zero…Hadn't expected the note."

"Yeah well…no accounting…congrats on the band."

"Thanks Man."

"Got time to hang with the past."

"Depends…'decent reason' guy these days."

"Kind of hoping we could do a reunion gig but hey if you're busy…no big…You um probably got places and spaces to be and Scooby gangs are of the old and now I'm so babbling …shutting up now…but…Um…you coming to the USA anytime soon?"

"Ahhh…Geez man been there, ya know Europe, kinda tolerant. Can't take my dog to a restaurant in the US!"

"Oh…" Xander's tone fell but the meaning of the statement was all too clear. Europe was still far more tolerant of the supernatural. Their 'lack of commitment' often criticized in international summits, particularly by the US and Japan.

"So you doin' the Good Life gig?"

"Huh?"

"Subsistence, natural trade…'"

"Oh yeah…most definitely! 'Handmade Tables 'R' Us' here …fantastic working with local woods, and just started to barter for some redwood pieces that will be of the good when finished …and produce abounds, well not so much me but many hands and all that. And again with the babble…sorry."

"Nahhh man, All good. So you need a contact or two for gig's out your way?"

"Only if you can recommend any."

"Sure…let us know on Email what you want…contacts still good there…but encrypt man, and use our secure site…login's easy, the password I figure you'll guess, but then Devon always said the principal was pretty 'tasty'. Anyways, ya know celeb status…rather avoid media…Here is all good but US press…just too scary."

"Oh sure sure." Spike squeezed his lover's hand. This was the closest to proper lead they had found in a week

"You got dates?"

"What?"

"When for, you thinkin'?" Oz sounded patient but Xander knew they had to quickly draw it all to a close.

"Oh…ASAP, it's kind of urgent um…forgot…um we've got a kind of big celebration coming up so …life and death stuff …you know the deal."

"Sure, so you got hitched?"