Leading Lines by Josie

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 series.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Fealty and Family. If you don't like boys together, don't play here!
Pairing: Xander/Spike

Summary: The Immortal Anton is now universally accepted as the Sire of the High Master William Aurelius (aka Spike) and his Esteemed Consort, now Childe, Xander, just as he is to the Full Blood Aurelian, Connor. He has supported them all in the past, perhaps now it's his turn.

The High Master leaned back against the slightly larger form of Ruling Consort and smiled as the strong arms of his Childe enveloped him. Xander squeezed Spike just a little and they both relaxed staring out the window of their bedroom suite as snow covered hills turned pink with the sun set.

After the initial thrill of walking in the sunlight twenty plus years earlier, the two vampires had reverted to old habits borne of instinct, and generally chose to sleep from just before sunrise until early afternoon each day. The usual pattern was then to shower and eat before addressing their financial interests and human dealings in regular 'business hours'.

The first renovation of the chateau was completed some fifteen years earlier and had seen a large office established (with all the facilities of a modern workspace), adding to the existing hall for the whole court gatherings and the 'private study.'

The lower floor of the East wing had always been the 'work' end of their home, now even more so.

The High Master and his Mated Childe had their rooms over the 'business end' of the chateau/castle while Helle and Connor had the upper west wing of the big house.

At forty seven, Connor, the full blood vampire, had come to terms with the idea that he would never age more than maturity, for all time appearing as though in his late twenties, early thirties, his dear Helle equally preserved by their mating. It was odd as his oldest son Liam (at twenty three) now appeared for all the world like his father's younger cousin rather than son.

The tall blonde Liam had the musculature of an athlete, his father's talent for numbers and fighting and his mother's calm nature. There was no need to 'groom' their eldest child for leadership, it came naturally – as did his studies and dedication to excellence.

Just finishing an honors year in 'Classics', he was not deemed perfect by any means, enjoying far too many 'wild nights' with university friends according to mother Helle. But the entire family knew that there were many more nights when he studied solo or had the same friends invited to his home rather than venture out to the Basel nightclubs, or some other party.

Liam, the oldest child and a quite extraordinarily strong magical being, gravitated toward Anton whenever the Immortal was present at the home. Like his Great Uncles and father he listened attentively to his Grand Sire, and apparently took his own role as the eldest most seriously. Vampire Law, international politics, financial dealings, he took all on board – along with the idea that he was needed by the family.

Liam's many friends did not stay in the 'big house' anymore, there was no need. Two years previous, the rarely used, old U-shaped building that had once housed farm equipment and winter stables had been gutted and redesigned to become independent abodes for Helle and Connor's three eldest children. The residents and equipment normally held in the old buildings had long since been moved to new, better fitted buildings, constructed in a style in keeping with the original, yet far more practical, and conveniently located behind the east wing of the main house.

Though still under the protection of family, the now adult children of Connor and Helle had ample space and a sense of freedom rarely gifted the offspring of ruling families – let alone vampire ones.

The older three children were attending university but also studied the 'dark and light' arts in private and regardless of their similar upbringing, the children could not have been more different.

They had various strengths, the eldest, Liam had an instinct for spells, a taste for blood and a magical signature that had always been so strong that his mere presence caused prickles for all members of the court; his younger brother by barely a year, Antonio was a far different character, he was a fighter, even challenging his two vampire uncles at times, and perhaps the most vampiric of Connor and Helle's sons.

Antonio seemed to spend most of his time in the gym or sparring with anyone entering the workout room – though to be fair, was no slouch at his studies. A much quieter character, Antonio was gifted when it came to all things creative, a fine guitarist and favorite with his female compatriots at university. But Antonio found magic far harder to master than his elder brother, and for that matter, his immediate younger sister, Amelie.

The raven haired, nineteen year old sister, Amelie, was a powerful wiccan with a connection to the earth like no other sibling. She stunned them all at twelve with the revelation that she could open portals at will and could see and read auras as though the most natural thing in the world– the latter treated as a party trick by her siblings until their Grandsire Anton was told. Aunt Willow was consequently engaged immediately as the girl's mentor (often 'online' rather than face to face') and the 'palace' all but rippled with power thereafter.

It had been apparent from the beginning that Amelie was blindingly intelligent and had an ethereal beauty normally attributed to the fae folk. She decided at aged fifteen that she would pursue her two passions – fashion design and magic. And what Amelie decided, Amelie got. Her moving to 'The Mews' (as the newly renovated stables became known) was a relief to all as she and Helle had recently clashed regularly, both women extremely strong willed and similar in nature.

Spike adored the girl, and she was often seen in his company, and he even asked (and funded) Willow to visit and tutor his niece personally at least twice a year. Amelie reminded him very much of Dawn in her youth, all enthusiasm and creativity, with a large side serve of determination countered by youthful self doubt, the latter something Spike regularly offered to "…beat out of you Pet" and the offer always met by the standard "It's OK Uncle…I'll let you know when a spanking is in order " followed by a knowing wink and affectionate hug.

All three older children spent time with family at the big house according to custom or whim, though studies, sport and fun regularly took them away from home as they grew older.

Of the younger three children, tall blonde Pelle, now fifteen, was a gifted athlete who displayed much of the vampiric speed and ruthless determination of his father, both on and off 'the field'. Sadly he seemed not to care for his academic or magical studies instead had taken to spending a lot of time with his Uncle Xander.

Xander seemed to understand him, said nothing of his 'failing' formal schooling, rather, he treated the strapping lad like an adult, took him down to the workshop and taught him to turn wood and make real things. Several picture frames, a nest of tables and four matching candle sticks were the beginning, and six months later a lovingly restored dresser in his parents' bedroom was the mark of pride for the middle son. Helle had shed a tear as the boy she had worried about so very often, led her and Connor to their private suite and asked that she might reveal the fruits of his labor. The 'French polishing' was near perfect, the brass fittings all complete and shining, and the damaged legs restored.

Since that day, he had been allowed to 'skive off' his studies whenever Xander had time to work with him. The Consort Childe was more than happy to share his knowledge and passion for wood and the skills of the building trade – along with strict attention to tool maintenance and a measure of project planning. Connor often wondered as he looked in on Pelle in the workshop. How could his children all turn out so very differently?!

At twelve years of age, the last of 'the older five', Giselle, was surprisingly tall (at just shy of five feet eleven), raven haired and ethereally beautiful. She not only appeared as, but felt like one of the fae folk to the entire family. She was solitary, studious and shy. Giselle preferred to spend her reading hours in the fork of an ancient tree, or ensconced in the bell tower of their home, surrounded by pigeons, her connection with nature acutely obvious and her preference for the shadows and for literature seeing her gravitate toward her the High Master, Uncle Will, to debate some classic or other.

Like her siblings, she was to be tutored at home until university, though…unusually, at the age of five, had requested Nanny Stephanie be the one to instruct her. The wiccan (who had now resumed her Nanny duties due to the newest addition) was thrilled and took on the role of educator in both academic and magical studies with ease.

Stephanie had stayed on with the family. She and Gregor now shared quarters, and a bed. With the Immortal's encouragement, Gregor had taken her as Consort during Pelle's first year. Anton blessed their joining and the entire house rejoiced, all of them noting the subtle change in Gregor. Still devoted to his Master and the household, he was also, obviously, happy. He and his partner were a rather typical mature couple, continuing their regular duties and respecting each others' need for their own time, but when together, were most often seen hand in hand strolling around the estate of an evening, often requested the car for an occasional dinner or show, and obviously, quietly adored each other's company.

The youngest addition to the family Olivia, had been the result of a joyous private afternoon during their regular family holiday on Kimolos, and a consequent surprise to both Helle and Connor who had both assumed their breeding days were over.

Now aged three, the pixie faced little blonde was everyone's favorite, sporting blonde curly hair, long black lashes framing dark green eyes, and had a smile that would melt stone. She was extremely outgoing, having been both the centre of attention and expected to 'muck in' with all the others. Her older siblings adored 'little O' and she was rarely without company for more than a few minutes. Her own favorite, rather surprisingly, was Nanny's partner. Gregor rarely said much, but picked her up onto his knee whenever he was passing, receiving a hug and, at first babble, but now happy chatter as he silently gave her his undivided attention. And each time he did so, Stephanie loved her life partner more.

Spike and Xander stood in a quiet embrace. Normally the ruling couple would have gone down by now but this night was different.

It was the thirtieth anniversary of their first meeting in Boston at a poetry reading on the Common.

Spike was in a rather contemplative mood, and though the silence was far from awkward, Xander let his fangs drop just enough to scrape the elegant pale neck lovingly before whispering, "Melancholy deserves a poem, Sire."

Smiling just a little as his beloved sighed in agreement, Xander began Lord Byron's melancholy piece that had marked their meeting all those years ago on the Boston Common.

"I watched thee when the foe was at our side –
Ready to strike at him, –or thee and me –
Were safety hopeless – rather than divide
Aught with one loved – save love and liberty."

When Xander paused, Spike found Xander's hands, entangled the fingers and pulled the arms even tighter around him as he took up the next few lines with the perfect diction of an upper class gent.

"I watched thee in the breakers – when the rock
Received our prow – and all was storm and fear,
And bade thee cling to me through every shock –
This arm would be thy bark – or breast thy bier."

Xander took his turn, the poem so well committed to memory now that the act bordered on instinctive.

"I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes –
Yielding my couch – and stretched me on the ground
When overworn with watching – ne'er to rise
From thence – if thou an early grave hadst found."

Spike was struggling to hold back tears, and was sending wave after wave of tumultuous emotion through the Consort/Childe link, yet managed the next stanza in all but a whisper.

"The earthquake came and rocked the quivering wall –
And men and Nature reeled as if with wine –
Whom did I seek around the tottering hall –
For thee – whose safety first provide for – thine.

Xander kissed his Sire's left ear then turned the blonde vampire gently until they were face to face before sliding down to his knees, still holding Spike in his embrace, but now having his cheek resting over the High Master's navel as they both continued.

"And when convulsive throes denied my breath
The faintest utterance to my fading thought –
To thee – to thee – even in the grasp of death
My Spirit turned – Ah! oftener than it ought."

So engrossed in the moment, neither vampire noticed the magical surge as their Sire entered the room, but rejoiced as the Immortal's liquid baritone added the final heartfelt verse.

"Thus much and more – and yet thou lov'st me not,
And never wilt – Love dwells not in our will –
Nor can I blame thee – though it be my lot
To strongly – wrongly – vainly – love thee still."

By the time Anton had finished, all three were kneeling and exchanging blood. It should have been joyous, but as the three rose, Spike suddenly realized that there was something wrong. It was one of the few times he had witnessed their Sire to be anything less than composed.

He immediately kissed his Sire's hand as did his Mated Childe and both wrapped themselves around the ancient being in a tight hug proffering necks and puzzled as to why they were not taken. Instead salty tears fell onto the willing Childers' necks and Connor felt the jolt of pain through the familial link even though in Geneva for the day on business.

Spike was the first to pull away, the confusion and upset flowing from their ancient patriarch all too reminiscent of the emotions that flowed on the day he and Xander connected all those decades ago.

"Buffy…She…she…inoperable, malignant…brain tumor…she…she can't be turned…Slayer plus vampire demon no match…and…she didn't want it…but…Oh my boys!!!" For the first time in their unlives, the Immortal collapsed into their arm, his grief tangible and the provision of familial blood but a slight buffer to the agony of losing his beloved.

Spike and Xander both recognized the look of pain, knew the panic of losing someone so dear, and snapped into action. Unbeknownst to them, Buffy had travelled with a nurse and their Sire, the original Slayer's energy so low and unconscious state such that she her presence was not felt by all the magical beings in the home.

Dawn and Willow were contacted immediately, as was the new Watchers' council and all slayers in Europe, then two staff from the best hospice in Basel were engaged. The whole vampire Court would gather in due course to support the Immortal, but for now it was about family.

Buffy was barely semi-conscious when Dawn and Willow entered the sick room. They would later come to question the assumption, her half open eyes not focusing on anything in particular and certainly failing to blink.

Anton ignored them as he said a heart wrenching goodbye though used the combined energy of the two wiccans as the sixty something, Slayer's body struggled. Buffy had squeezed his hand weakly as he kissed her and he fancied she mouthed 'love you' before her body took over, the convulsions started again before she slipped into her final coma.

She had been a favorite Aunt – particularly for the girls who were always in awe of her shopping prowess. Sadly as they stepped into the sick room they all knew, her eyes were pushed closed, the older ones had been told, several hours later the visual and audio signals to Buffy's brain had ceased, but according to the new scans she could still feel and respond a little if touched on 'pressure spot', her marking. They all pressed on the point on her neck as directed, and bid her in their own way.

Buffy's ability to speak had been absent for many weeks, her sense of smell and taste also departing as the tumor grew, but the older woman still felt touch, and managed to weakly squeeze the hand of each of Conner and Helle's children as they kissed her and wished her well. Little Olivia was unsure of what was going on but instinctively knew that the whole family was upset about Great Aunt Buffy, so pushed her favorite toy, a stuffed rhinoceros, under the covers with the dying woman, then gave her a wet kiss and explained, "Jasper is the best for hugs if'n you feel sick." Buffy normally would have held the little girl's hand and expressed her thanks, but Olivia did not seem to mind that the gesture was missing, and the youngster departed unaware that 'Lady Buffy' was within mere hours of death.

Connor had returned from Geneva the very day he felt Anton's distress through the familial link.

That evening, after Connor's children had bade farewell to their great Sire's mate, and as Buffy began to fail, the medical team moved in but had no need to send for the closest family, they were all present.

They all knew…Buffy was slipping. Her central systems were all shutting down and the body, so wonderfully strong in her prime, was now in the latter phases of failure and shock. For all his talents there was nothing Anton could do for his beloved but brush lank strands of hair from an all too pale forehead and request that her pain medication be boosted one more time.

The Immortal's Childer were all present, as was his trusted Gregor, Helle and Stephanie, and Willow and Dawn.

Spike, Connor and Xander all gave their open wrists to the Immortal, but as Buffy's body began to relax again after convulsing in another tumor induced fit, the ancient did as he had promised his beloved weeks before, just prior to her losing first the power of speech then consciousness. In the presence of family, he let his fangs drop, kissed her inert, dying form, and with Dawn holding her sister's hand, Anton drained his partner of over thirty five years' lifeblood. Buffy passed away quietly and in her was strangely aware in her dying few seconds, she felt her beloved, the Immortal's immense love for her, and by proxy the love of family and friends, then passed from the mortal realm.

They had all heard the heart stop and felt the cessation of her magical signature…partners initially hugged each other as Anton pulled away from the pale neck, then collapsed in shared grief as Anton gave an agonized cry and collapsed across her torso to give in to his shock and agonized loss. He and Buffy had been together for thirty eight years. She may have been the oldest Slayer in history, but in the context of Anton's age it was a mere blink of his tear-filled green eyes.

The doctor confirmed her passing and fully understood his patient's request that her partner take her blood when her final struggle began, and closed his file with a final report.

"Deceased: Buffy Anne Summers
Age: 64
Time of Death: 19.21 on the sixth day of March 2043
Cause of death: Malignant brain tumor.
Summary: Initially attack centered in the frontal lobe controlling speech. Primary tumor later located by MRI in hypothalamus.
Radiography unsuccessful and surgery ill advised due to tumor's growth rate and position. Chemotherapy attempted, unsuccessful.
Loss of all bodily functions and Grand Mal fitting frequency approaching life threatening recorded in final six days of patient's life.
No autopsy requested.
Donation of organs not recommended: Slayer status, age, and risk of undetected secondary cancers and compromised organs cited.
Consulting Doctor: A.J. Nuell MD PhD "

Anton and Buffy's life together may have been fraught with external issues that but the chirpy blonde 'chosen one', even at sixty something, remained much as the Sunnydale girl he seduced (or perhaps it was the other way around) all those years ago in Rome. There had been frequent periods apart but that merely made their time together more meaningful.

Anton had come to know the strong woman behind the petite, power shopping, deadly-to-demons, Californian. And according to his Childe Spike, in her latter years, Buffy had 'a lot of Joyce's qualities'.

The Immortal vaguely registered the arm across his shoulders, gently pulling him into a tight hug as he remembered…the first time she had attempted to make him hot chocolate in the tiny Rome flat she and Dawn shared. It had been a disaster. In the end it was Andrew who produced a drinkable beverage, but Buffy had learned, in later years even garnering compliments from Spike comparing her drink making prowess to that of "Joyce in her prime, Pet. She'd be right proud."

There were so many moments like that…so many yet so few because now she was gone.

Anton remained at her bedside with Buffy's inert, now cold, physical body for nearly two hours. He had no idea of the time, but eventually his wonderful boys led their grieving Sire to his own quarters, then stayed. . The death bed was dealt with by caring nurses and the coven via Watcher's council spread the word. He heard Spike, his William, say the arrangements were all taken care of but Anton was in distress.

In the end it had been Gregor who insisted he lie down…now. His dear devoted servant used a tone of voice rarely heard expressed by the taciturn devotee, that of a fatherly orde, and there was no question that Anton comply.

In a daze, Anton felt his clothes being removed and someone tucking him into bed. A little later he vaguely registered two cool figures settling either side of him. He drank of family and eventually fell asleep, hoping it was all a bad dream.

The following day, the leading couple left Gregor to tend his long time Master whilst they finalized the funeral arrangements.

Buffy was cremated three days later after a relatively short ceremony involving immediate family, key members of the court, friends (and some key staff) of Buffy and Anton's, and Andrew with a small delegation of Slayers and Watchers – which, surprisingly, included Faith who flew in from New York for the occasion. The now aging Slayer arrived with her partner Robin, both now retired, and gave an impassioned speech then collapsed into her partner's arms as the old tune 'The Rose' played.

It had been decided that her ashes would be buried in a very private ceremony under Anton and her favorite coral ash in their pretty courtyard of their Tuscany home. For now the family merely pulled together, fed their darling Sire, and survived their own memories and grief.

The outside family had all departed after only a week, a week of reminiscing and of kind gestures and warm friendship. The remaining 'inner circle' rallied for each other but all knew, and Gregor picked it first…Something was seriously wrong with the Immortal.

The next Court meeting was cancelled – and all leading vampires accepted (though some grumbled a little that there was little cause for a Vampire Court to adjourn to respect the memory of a Slayer).

The note Willow received a month after her return from the funeral was bizarre and extremely worrying. Two weeks after Buffy departed the mortal coil, it had been reported that the Immortal was ailing, something that should have been an impossibility for a being of his nature.

Initially the diagnosis was melancholy due to grief, but as time went on, his refusal to eat or wash, or to venture into the afternoon sun, engage in his favorite sports or even answer family phone calls caused Gregor to call the High Master. By the time his boys arrived, they were forced to make a desperate decision. They moved the gaunt, virtually catatonic Anton to his suite in their home in Switzerland, hoping that family attention might lift his desperate state. They rang Willow but no change was to occur – in fact he became worse.

Over the ensuing five plus weeks, the formerly timeless, tireless, calm, capable Immortal slipped more and more. In his place was a pallid, increasingly thinner, invalid, whose previously powerful positive magical signature now simply exuded hopelessness and pain. He was inert, constantly in the dark and silent, even ceasing to breathe. He was for all the world a corpse, eyes sightless and detectable presence, that of any inanimate object.

Shortly after a desperate phone call from Xander, Willow arrived. She and all the family surrounded Anton's bed and joined hands circling the inert form of the Immortal. They appealed for guidance from both the Powers and from Artemis.

Amelie, Willow and (rather surprisingly) Spike all threw their heads back and arched in pain, then almost broke the fingers of the hands they held as the powerful reply came. Eyes black and voices not their own, the three simply conveyed the inner thoughts of first the Powers then Goddess Artemis in turn. Buffy's death was not the cause of the malaise so much as a trigger for the Immortal's state. Somehow he had conscious mind had become overwhelmed by the grief of eons, the sadness and yearning for every other loved one who had died in his very long life. The message was clear, he needed to be reassured since, if not addressed, the demise would be swift and final, Anton mummified, perfectly preserved for all time by the fact of his status.

The three channeling gave the same message. They needed to show him…that there was still hope and purpose.

The Goddess Artemis spoke through Amelie directly to the rest of the family, "The Immortal is so young. He must learn that his influence is outside the measures of good and evil – just as ours are. Our decisions are intuitive – as are his, and none can be reversed. He regrets so much…and for one so old this has come to a point of no return. He must realize that he has been given an eternal gift…that of family.

"You two can show him. This is a 'once only' however. If he does not recover then you will all be at risk of decline, swiftly and violently. I can provide the slide through time, but with two caveats. The two embarking on the venture must be of the Immortal's line. And second I cannot guarantee your form or task. You must somehow reinvigorate the Immortal, through love and…anyway. I advise you to act with care as there may be no return, should your Sire decide his existence still to be incapable of finding redemption and love."

Amelie slumped and passed out as the Goddess retreated from her being. The hand held ring of beings broken, it was Antonio who caught her on the way down. Both older brothers tending her as their mother ushered the distressed younger siblings back to their quarters for afternoon tea and a 'debriefing'.

It was a devil's bargain but as Connor, Spike, Xander and family closed ranks to discuss the best interests of family, Gregor surprised them all as he threw himself at the High Master's feet.

"Let me go High Master, I know much of my Master's pain, and Stephanie and I…we will always serve the household."

Instead of answering Spike opened his wrist and fed the distraught Gregor, not missing that he was still holding Stephanie's hand with such force as to be painful. Of all the extended 'family', Gregor had known the Immortal the longest, but the instruction was the two must be of 'the Immortal's line' meaning the exchange needed to be on a Sire/Childe basis.

Gregor was still kneeling at Spike's feet when the High Master matched his position hugged the loyal servant and friend close then looked directly at Connor as he addressed them both, "Keep them safe…Whatever happens…Keep the family safe."

Spike bit Connor hard and took his fill, an act reciprocated and acknowledged for what it was, open permission to lead. All knew, if the effort to save Anton failed, and the High Master and Consort lost, the Aurelian line would continue through the full blood. Connor took from the Master's Childe, now uncle by Mating, Xander, before rejoining the circle and nodding to the others.

All contributed their energy as the ruling couple broke hands then bedded down with their stricken Sire, enveloping him in a two way embrace, at the same time not breaking contact with each other. The chanting began and all in the room sent a prayer for clemency as the complex spell took effect.

Spike and Xander woke side by side to bright sunlight, both were in soldier's garb, and kneeling in a full down position, their sword at one hand, shield at the other, and straight daggers sheathed at each ankles. Intuitively they knew, they were part of the first line, all slaves of the young Master.

His benevolence had rather surprisingly let them live in exchange for their loyalty, even vouching for them after the last skirmish where close on one thousand of their forward forces had been killed, and now the handsome youngest son, their 'lieutenant' was on his horse high above their position. As was the custom of the time, the front line was primarily made up of friends, brothers and gay lovers deliberately placed side by side with their Master's brand clearly scarred into their skin. They all knew, for their foe to kill one meant needing to kill both.

Sword and shield at the ready, Spike took one more rueful look toward his partner before they charged.

It was strange and odd…the knowledge of their Sire, their own history and extensive reading, and physical training…

Surprisingly, many of their first wave survived the onslaught. How, few could establish yet now they knew that not only the day had been won, but the enemy had conceded the war and withdrawn.

Many individual were feted by their compatriots in arms that night, but particularly noted, was the skill and heroism of the half blind slave and his exotic, blonde partner. Both had fought with tenacious determination and tireless, deadly accuracy worthy of and noble on the field. Back to back, they had been unstoppable. It was not typical of slaves to be so vehement in their task, but all knew, they did belong to the young son of their supreme ruler Kleisthenes' cousin, Anton. At nineteen, he had emerged as a leader of men that not only of the Greeks who came voluntarily, but also the slaves that were assigned him. It seemed he had a charisma and kindness, a ruthlessness and power that all men were drawn to, inspired by and as a consequence, utterly loyal to.

For two months, Xander and Spike washed in the sea and ate with their fellow soldiers (their only option) before retiring to the tiny tent near their master's own behind the ridge that separated them from the sea that marked the last marker of their victory or doom. Both men knew to respond to the young master's call and, as servants of the rich, with their orientation known then exploited, they had been well schooled in acts of pleasure, regardless of their official role as soldiers. They pleasured their Master regularly by mouth and in ways most girls would understand.

After the army's final triumph the two were provided extra food, a quantity of wine and double the usual measure of oil as a rich reward for their efforts during the campaign, yet were still required to service their master. Both High Master and his Mated Consort had all their original memories, along with their new ones, and both coincided with the natural affection for Anton, so the two did as was expected.

Their fellow soldiers retired to enjoy a well earned reward with partner of choice (or purchased favor) prior to the four days' march home. Meanwhile Spike quietly led Xander through the camp to their Master's tent, nodding to Anton's body guards, both holding hands and swinging their hips provocatively. The guards were well aware of their Master's 'needs' and ushered them through.

They found Anton on his knees beside his own surgeon, holding the hand of a young man who was bleeding out. The individual was bleeding profusely from deep gashes in his side and lengthwise down his thigh. He was barely breathing and as pale as white marble with blue already on his lips. The rudimentary stretcher in the centre of the tent would be the final resting place of one of Anton's most trusted body guards, a man who had fought ferociously to defend his master as the second wave of attack had flanked their defenses early in the day.

Xander and Spike knelt respectfully as Anton prayed to the Gods for clemency in the afterlife as the man passed on, his mortal form, now bathed in blood expiring quietly.

Xander and Spike then raised their Master and led him back to their own tent in silence.

There would only be comfort on this night, and while the Master rested, the body of his loyal servant would be dressed and prepared for burial. The young Master deserved love and solace…and in the morning was pleasured gently by four hands and two mouths, none demanding, simply loving and centering him. And he felt it. He was cared for, just as he cared for others.

As they lay by their Master's side, all sated and he relieved they felt the beginning of the shift.

Both Sire and Childe awoke to burgeoning bellies contracting as nature demanded and, mere hours later, experienced the agony of bearing children…Yet Anton was there fleetingly. Even though only twenty, he looked genuinely concerned. The two servant girls somehow knew he was the father, but also that the new children were already condemned to servitude courtesy of their mothers' position in the house.

The (thankfully) healthy children were delivered within hours of each other, and the two mothers were very sore but well. (Xander quietly resolving to say something to Helle, mother of six(!) if they were ever able to return). The young father Anton visited after the births, seemingly amazed that he could be the father of the small beings now wrapped in white swaddling and presented to him as he entered the tiny hut at the edge of his father's property. And strangely Xander and Spike somehow knew…the images and memories that consequently overwhelmed them were his…

As soon as 'of age', the young Anton was encouraged to 'sew his seed' after initial lessons with an older, more experienced female relative, and had done as instructed.

The two girls were both slaves in the household, though his father had insisted that all be treated with respect, and beatings of any sort were kept to a minimum.

Barely returned from the war, Anton had made the connection at the Tribute to Dionysus – the god of wine and festivity – a huge party held by his father to bless the grape picking and crushing season, and an event at which the two female slaves were serving. He invited them to walk with him and bedded them both as the party was in full swing – concurrently, amongst the vines. The girls were flattered by the beautiful young Master's attentions and acquiesced, even agreeing to his request that they all kiss and touch lying nude on his outspread white and crimson garment. He took their maidenhood and pleasured them in turn, all the while encouraging roaming hands and giving such carnal pleasure as to make the Gods blush.

By the end of the night all were utterly exhausted, sated,…and weeks later the two women would find that they were pregnant.

Spike and Xander's world shifted from Anton's memories to the present – or as present as the bizarre shifting timeline could be.

They were attended by a midwife, who treated them with a matter-of-fact motherly calm and felt themselves being cleaned and a new pad of cloth placed strategically to catch the blood.

Tiny mouths were gently guided to breasts that had not been there (for the Master and his Childe) a day before, and both vampires had the extraordinary experience of their milk 'dropping' as the cry of a new baby somewhere close drove their bodies to instinctively provide. As a consequence both cuddled their new born daughters even closer, pressed leaking nipples against impossibly small lips and had the joy of feeling a tiny mouth latch on and begin to suck with surprisingly little fuss. For Sire and Childe the act was akin to the sharing of blood – profoundly moving.

The ensuing three weeks, as they came to terms with their form and their status as both slaves and mothers, they saw their young Master briefly almost every evening. But as their babies turned one month old, in a terrifying raid in the middle of the night, they were torn from their shared hut – along with their children – and forced to present themselves to their Master's Father. The Senior of the household and cousin of the King.

Anton's father was a daunting man, so unlike his pretty son. He had been scarred in battle, his face and one arm bearing the mark of another man's sword. He was generously built and taller than most men. He stood in a full white and gold robe, silvering hair and tanned skin seeming to emphasize his power.

Anton was kneeling at his father's feet, head bowed as the terrified women entered.

The older man's voice raised to a bellow, "How can you be sure??!! These young strumpets might have bedded a dozen men…"

The two now desperate sobbing girls bound, gagged and prostrate in front of their master, could hear their babies crying somewhere nearby, yet could neither defend themselves nor assist their children, let alone the young man who had fathered them.

Anton raised his eyes to meet his father's, "They had no need, Sir. They are of our slave group and live in the quarter defended by our three best Eunuchs. Father, these women have been loyal to a fault. Please father…Let them remain as part of my household, their new children also. Please Father?!"

The aging gent rose, his ire obvious but also aware that he was not without bastard children, so offered clemency. "Only! under these conditions…Your wife to be, Cliementes, must never know of this. The women will be marked and forever enslaved, never to be taken by another. The girls will be spared marking but only if they are chosen by a free man for marriage will either of the two children be freed from this household. In that case, given their dubious status, it will by up to you to provide a small bond on their day of release. Understood?"

Less than an hour later, the two now naked slave girls screamed into roughly applied gags as they were pinned to the ground then brutally branded on the neck, upper arm and right buttock with a hot iron. Still bleeding from childbirth, the two were then subjected to being violated with a blunt object and suffered a beating that left Spike's female form with a badly broken wrist and Xander blind in one eye. (Just before passing out, it did occur to the brunette that history had a sense of irony after all.)

The two girls were dragged back to their hut where they openly wept as their babies were silently returned to them.

They had assumed the babies would have been killed but the look on Anton's face as he personally handed over the two tiny bundles to the injured, marked women was one of intense regret and pain. They knew that if they ever said anything of their children's origins, their lives and those of the girls, would be null and void.

For Spike and Xander, the next four months were spent performing their duties, now marked and disallowed to serve in the big house, they were the lowest of the slaves, forced to carry water and food for the animals and other slaves in their master's care, and to clean horse stalls and assist with tending the garden, all with babies strapped to their backs.

Nights were time for cooking meager food rations and spending a little time with their children. Their solace was that each week on a Saturday evening, a soft knock on the door saw Anton at their door. Nothing was ever said for fear of others in the slave quarter overhearing, but he would brush their neck scars with genuine distress and kiss them chastely on the forehead before delivering small packages of meat or fruit or something for the children. He would sit with the two tiny girls, though they were usually sleeping when he arrived, and would depart as silently as he came.

In one of the last visits before their next shift, Xander and Spike learned that Anton had made new arrangements for his girls and his father had agreed to the concession. The two children were to be deemed free at the age of fourteen and were bequeathed a small sum of money so the two might survive at least until they could make their own way and find work and husbands. Their mothers, however, were marked, forever to be slaves, but lucky to be owned by a rich and relatively liberal family.

They bedded down on the rather damp straw bed, rather happier than previous days, then their world moved again.

He looked across to his partner, they were both quadrupeds, large male dogs, of the 'bordering on wolf' variety. They each sported the same leather muzzles and broad collars, and had leads held by the dog handler. Instinctively the darker, larger male knew his alpha was the blond dog facing him.

Spike would always be his alpha. They both felt the hunger, they had not been fed that morning, there were 'games afoot'. Minutes later they were led to the battle field released from their muzzles and leads and moved to flank their master's horse as the young man watched and prepared for battle. Anton was mounted – as all the nobles on the field, but the dogs would keep up and keep him safe, he knew that from experience.

As the cry went up for the second wave to attack, they sprinted alongside their Master, leaping at assailants, biting limbs, ripping human flesh and tearing out necks.

It had been Anton's idea to take his two beautiful wolf-like beasts into war with him. They were unwavering in their loyalty to their young Master and reveled in the thrill of battle.

Three weeks later, and the battle won, they were finally back home, now lying tethered on long wide leads attached to an olive tree at the rear of their Master's home. They were feeling lazy after being given water and a huge mound of fresh sheep bones – with plenty of meat left on them, to chew on. Though only their third night back and missing the excitement of the fight, it was nice to have a full belly and rest. And as the young Master made off to a victory party at the house of a friend, there was one unexpected reward delivered to them. A young, in heat, almost jet black female was tied with them. She was apparently the family pet, and a pretty one at that. The message was clear, she more than willing, and her scent subsuming any human foibles regards sharing or servicing a female ready to mate.

Very late that night as the three lay sated, Spike and Xander both woke with a start, strained against their collars and sniffed the air in alarm.

Mere hours later the family was grieving. Anton had not returned from the party. The dogs heard the scenario. He had left the party with an unknown new 'friend'. And consequently his favorite dagger, parts of his robe and a gold clasp with family emblem was found strewn near cliffs not far from the house where the party was held – and within sight of the small temple dedicated to the Goddess Artemis. There was no doubt that foul play was involved with his disappearance, and the suspicion that his body had been disposed of in the ocean.

Xander chewed through Spike's leash and the act was reciprocated, and on the third evening after Anton's disappearance, the two took off toward the house where they knew their Master had last been seen.

Spike scented the ground around the base of the stone wall marking the garden of Anton's trusted friend and fellow soldier, and Xander did likewise. Smells of the party and of numerous humans were apparent, but Xander had it. One short yip later and he and Spike were hurtling up the hill toward the temple.

Temporarily forgetting their own and Anton's history – or their true beings, their pace increased as they approached the modest temple, almost glowing in the moonlight, and saw their Master sitting on the lowest step his head in his hands. Both slowed as they approached, he smelt odd, of tears and blood. All but prostrating themselves as they might the alpha of any pack, they belly crawled the last few inches until able to nuzzle the surprisingly cool legs and lick over dusty cold feet.

Their Master then did something most surprising for the two dogs, he collapsed down, all but falling between them, and began to cry in earnest whilst hugging his two canine friends and sobbing out, "Not human…no more…never again…have to leave you…Am so sorry…can't…you…look after everyone yeah? Please!?!!!"

Both dogs nuzzled their Master, encouraged him inside the temple again, and lay down either side of him to accept the instinctive bite of the fledgling who fed a little for comfort then fell asleep between them.

Spike suddenly found himself in a body that felt…frail. The white haired elderly senator was seated in a pleasant courtyard opposite apparently equally aged, most trusted advisor. They both looked a little nonplussed but rallied as a young man was dragged in bound and gagged by the Imperial Guard and tossed at their feet.

"Esteemed Senator, I apologize for this intrusion, but Emperor's Magistrate Cassius would have you deal with this…" the large brute of a soldier kicked the already kneeling male hard in the ribs, "excuse for a man," another kick, "…personally."

"But…Legion…Why me? Surely the Magistrate can deal with most matters? I am a law maker – not a judge! What is his crime exactly?"

"Defiling the temple of Diana – he was sleeping in it…Bloody vagrant…We tossed him in the cells for a few weeks but it seems he's a bit of a smooth talker, jailers went all soft, took him to the magistrate, claims he's part of your household…your Grandmother or some such. Sorry to bother you, reckon the judge simply wants you to check the story before he puts the liar out of 'is misery.

Spike looked down at the sorry figure kneeling at the soldier's feet, wrists bound tight, head bowed and body covered in grime, the recent evidence of a whipping easily visible across his back.

"I can't think why we would need you. I will call my guards if there is a problem."

"Right. Well, I'll send someone back to pick 'im up in a couple of hours then. Tell your guards that if he's any bother a few good kicks 'll sort it."

After the soldiers departed, Spike bent down and reached for the filthy chin with a groan, his old frame objecting to the position. He gently eased the man's face up to look at him so that he might inspect the features. Even though they suspected the scenario, both Senator and Advisor gasped as they recognized the beautiful and so well known face buried under grime and bruising. Anton's pretty tear-filled green eyes stared up at them, the expression one of sadness and resignation.

In Latin with an ever so slight accent, Anton replied quietly with tears in his eyes, "Your…the women.. your…and I was…was…Oh Goddess…I am…worse than noone…but I had to see…I had to know…I just wanted to know"

Anton began to try to turn his face away so his tears might fall privately, but the old man, a true believer in their Gods and their strange ways held him fast, and both Spike's knowledge and the memories of the original owner of the body blended as Anton's next whispered words confirmed something he suspected, "I needed to know, you see?! I needed to know every once in a while…just needed them to survive…I…Oh goddess…I am not what I seem…Please!... But you could never…!!" Anton pulled away and attempted to fold down to the ground but stilled and turned to look up at the man in utter amazement at the aging Senator's next words.

At just over a hundred and thirty years young, Anton was thin and drawn, and appeared like what he was, an outcast from both human and demon society. Yet he could not help but obey the order. His fangs dropped and eyes changed but other changes seemed to come and go. The usual vampire ridges were all but absent. What was present were blood tinged tears streaming down the man's face as he fell forward to rest his cheek against the aging knees of the kindly gent and gave up to the feeling of being utterly lost.

Anton knew, as did Senator Illias and his aged friend Alexandros, who had also leaned down to put a kind hand on the shoulder of the young man, the Senator was a direct descendant of one of his illegitimate daughters.

A blue eyed, dark haired beauty, she had married a young soldier who later became a highly decorated member of Kleisthenes army. Despite (or because of – no one could remember) the three children resulting from the marriage went on to be well educated and take various well placed positions in society as the Roman Empire began its rise to greatness.

Post Licinian Rogations and now at war with Samnite confederacy the Roman Empire was a Republic but still on the rise to its ultimate power. Rome began the process of voting to appoint those in public office even when Anton was human. Illias was the grandson of a freed slave, but was a learned, well respected man, spoke several languages and had proved himself time and again as a wise and just public servant (and no harm on the battle field).

Spike, in his aged guise, ordered a servant find him a knife. Anton flinched but stayed down expecting to be punished for his impassioned outburst. Instead of being tortured, however, his bindings were sliced, he was bathed and clothed, and when his jailers returned they were handed a sum of money to pay for Anton's freedom. There was no objection, merely a grin and wiggle of an eyebrow. Spike felt a little ill, realizing that Anton was pretty enough to have provided 'sport' and that there was an assumption that his role in the Senator's household would be utilizing just such 'talents'.

Anton looked from Alexandros to Senator Illias in wonder as the front door of his rescuer's rather generous abode closed.

Spike simply squeezed his arm, raised him to his feet and said, "You are family. Stay for as long as you need. What is ours we have because of you. My grandmother spoke of you."

As a servant came forward and ushered a still rather stunned Anton to the small room that had been prepared as his sleeping quarters, Spike and Xander's worlds shifted yet again.

Connor was on the brink of exhaustion, not only maintaining the family's business interests, but also tending to the Aurelian Court matters and deeply concerned regards his true relatives and their inert state.

Stressed and terribly worried, he had raised his voice to tiny Olivia for 'squealing' repeatedly on the third evening after the boys all went under the spell. It resulted in his daughter Amelie rescuing the now crying child. But it was really Connor who desperately required a hug and reassurance just to get through another night of his relatives' magic induced comas, he finally received it from his lovely partner Helle after she was told by Amelie that "Dad just lost it for no reason!"

That night, despite her own fatigue, Helle sat with Connor and kept vigil until both were simply too tired and handed over to Dawn who promised to alert them if there was any change.

Two rather bewildered young boys woke to an angry slap from their camel master and the rather smelly snort of their charges as the camels too were stung by the leather crop. Both lads still felt exhausted as they tried their best to respond 'enthusiastically' for fear of yet another beating.

They noted the third handler, a silent newcomer who was definitely older. They wondered at his choice to be handler, he was obviously of ruling family blood, and some of the cargo was his (admittedly he had sworn them to secrecy – their silence paid for in honeycomb straight from the hive…Bliss!)

They travelled the Silk Road, stopping nightly but pausing otherwise only to trade.

Xander and Spike spent most of their nights wrapped around each other under a rudimentary cover that fended off little but a mild rain. If the downpour was stronger, they bedded with the rather ornery camels, the passing of rather 'whiffy' bodily functions actually preferable to suffering the near freezing wet of their own 'accommodation'.

Though only around eleven years old, the boys had apparently been the working with the camel train for almost three years, contracted to the camel owner by two desperate families who each virtually sold their youngest son into slavery.

In Xander/Inditus' case it was to pay a gambling debt incurred by a now dearly departed father. But for little Spike/Abdul, his virtual abduction in the middle of a hot Turkish night was done with the express permission of his only remaining, older sister to 'fund' the funeral of their mother, father and two younger siblings, who had all died within days of each other of an illness unknown to the local physicians.

The grieving Jasmine took the advice of her abusive husband, a state official (and wife beater) Raoul. She agreed with a painful nod, her only remaining relative was to be 'apprenticed' to the camel traders.

Raoul added the sack of salt, and few coins he received from the boy's sale to his wife's (now by law his) small inheritance, and hardly even noticed the small, sobbing blonde being led away.

Despite their tender age, the boys were fairly street wise by the time their bodies were 'otherwise occupied', and Spike/Abdul was particularly wary of one of the senior camel handlers after seeing his sister repeatedly beaten by her husband and had heard her gagged cries at night as Raoul did something unspeakable to his pretty, wife. The young boy 'felt funny' about one of the camel handlers. He often said strange things, and made the boys do errands for him that seemed odd, demanding they washed his clothes in the river, or refastened the hobbles on one or two of the camels while he watched.

Their reaction to Anton could not have been more different. Spike and Xander both recognized Anton immediately, the quiet demeanor and unmistakably beautiful green eyes shining out from behind his head cloth kept fastened across his face. He never failed to thank them for watering his three steeds and sometimes even gave them a hand full of dates or teaspoon of salt for their trouble.

Using Spike and Xander's knowledge of him and their own circumstance to their advantage, the two obtained sheep's blood from a butcher in exchange for two coins Xander had spied on the ground as they entered town. Amazed that they had been able to pocket the prizes without the others seeing, the two managed to complete their purchases then meld into the general melee of a small market town at the top of Persia, one set up for the flux of travelers and local merchants willing to provide almost anything for a price.

The small conspirators, were invisible in such a bustling market, Xander/Inditus scampering after the much swifter Spike/Abdul. They purchased their prize after a little haggling with a rather bemused butcher, who in the end simply acquiesced on the grounds that the boys had caused him to laugh harder than he had for years! They also manage to obtain two tiny pomegranates with the 'change'. A prize relished as they returned to their camp on the outskirts.

The older men had were smoking in the head handler's tent as they tiptoed past, but both knew that Anton would not be present so continued to the rudimentary tent where they found him sitting sketching characters of some language in the dirt.

The small boy shyness struck quite unexpectedly and both found themselves dumbstruck for a moment. Xander shifted uncomfortably and pulled the rather large sheep's bladder bag closer to his chest, while Spike shifted a little from foot to foot, hoping that the older man would look up.

Anton kept his eyes down, however, so Spike tried another tack, "Where'd ya learn them from?"

Anton looked up to the child as he completed the Greek then Roman then Egyptian symbols for 'Outcast of the Gods', "Many places and nowhere. Would you like to learn to read them?"

Spike/Abdul's eyes lit up…but they were there for a reason and that had to go first. "I…um yes please, but…um…" for some reason the boy suddenly felt very shy as the rather sad green eyes met his directly, he dropped his gaze and toed the ground.

Xander/Inditus jumped in, he may have had all Xander's memories, but it was pure Inditus speaking, "We…we noticed that you are from a…different culture…and you…you are new and kind…and we…we didn't steal it!! But Allah showed us the money and we knew it was a blessing…so we…Abdul says he's tried it with milk before…and it's not that bad. One of the handlers we met – he was from somewhere in the desert I don't remember now but is that how you have it? Cause we don't have any money left so you'll have to buy your own…or I guess we could I don't know…um…?" The boy's tone dropped as he fell silent looking worriedly from Anton to Spike and back.

As the skin full of blood was handed over mid babble, Anton gasped as he identified the contents of the skin. "I…I…I'm rather…this is a very special thing you have done…thank you." fell to his knees, placed the skin carefully on the ground beside him then opened his arms, offering the only thing he had to truly give – a brotherly hug of thanks.

The two youngsters moved forward to accept initially rather tentatively but as soon as they were touched by the Immortal they felt instantly safe, and had the sensation of an adult human being giving them a familial kind of affection for the first time since they had joined the camel train.

They did not witness Anton drinking their gift, but went back to their sleeping spot happy that they had done well

For the next three weeks, as the camel train made its way across the top of Persia, the three became firm friends, and Spike felt the thrill of Abdul as he began to learn to read and write (albeit the latter was in the dirt with a stick). Inditus was less studious and Xander's memories confirmed that as a boy he had much rather do things than sit and study.

Inditus fidgeted, made yet another mistake in the strange lettering that was supposed to say 'father' then sighed again. He found it all a little boring, preferring spend his meager leisure time using the slightly curved dagger he carried (for everything from cutting food to slicing through a rope) to whittle the end of a stick, or try to land a stone in a target drawn on the ground.

Anton saw the boy's discomfort and asked Inditus if he would not mind fetching them all a little water. Inditus jumped at the chance and headed off in the direction of the tiny well they were current camped by. The Xander part of the boy's mind simply said 'donuts', but thought nothing more of his other life.

Abdul was a fine student, and desperate to be able to read. Lately, if they passed through a town, he would even risk a beating from the camel master to run forward and ask Anton the meaning of a sign here and there. He finished one last set of symbols – a whole sentence this time, "To die with honor defending what you know to be just, is to have died well." It was late and Inditus had not returned. He looked up hoping to see the usual look of approval on Anton's face but instead saw deep concern. He felt suddenly cold as he realized the reason. Inditus had not returned and it was already dark.

Anton stood abruptly, hissed to an alarmed Abdul, "Stay!!" then took off into the night in the general direction of the well. The now frightened boy curled up, hugging his knees and stared into the night, rocking a little.

There was no sign of Inditus at the well yet Anton could smell him close by – along with the ominous odor, human blood and semen. He silently moved toward a small thicket of scrub, his vampire senses on full alert and night vision engaged. And he found what he dreaded, the tiny broken figure of Inditus, face slightly turned to the side, bruises obvious and wrists still tied behind his back, his legs were apart and at rather odd angles, and he was bleeding alarmingly fast from his rear passage.

Anton could hear the tiny heart struggling and knew the boy was unlikely to live even with his Immortal blood as a bolster. The external damage was extensive enough, and the internal…frightening to even contemplate, even if he did survive, there would be serious repercussions ongoing risks of infection and many months of care and recovery needed. Still, he had to try to do something.

Anton sunk his fangs hard into his own wrist and dripped the precious fluid down the damaged back and into the violated hole. There was little change to the injuries and the Immortal could hear the heart failing. He sliced through the material binding the boy's arms, and did the only thing he could, he lifted the small broken figure as gently as possible, cuddled him to his chest and sprinted back to where Abdul was waiting.

The youngster had seen death before and knew without Anton even saying a word. The little blonde simply sat by the now kneeling Anton and took the lax hand of his friend in his and began to recite the prayer his sister had taught him to say for his parents and sisters on their death beds.

"Stay with him – I will get the camel master." The grief stricken little boy merely nodded and continued to hold the hand of his dead best friend.

The Immortal had recognized the scent of the man who had murdered the lad and sniffed the night air with purpose as he departed the tent, not even the smell of their beasts of burden could conceal the culprit's stench. He stalked the vile creature as any predator might, the individual was alone humming to himself happily. Anton moved with preternatural speed, let his fangs drop and, hand over the human's mouth, he bit down hard into the neck and par-drained him before licking the wound and watching the punctures and line of teeth marks begin to heal.

Anton then hefted the culprit to just outside the camel master's tent and gave a shout to raise the alarm.

What ensued was the trussing up of the attacker, inspection of the dying boy, consequent admission and swift retribution. Strung up against a tree within seconds of his confession, the man screamed as his penis and scrotum were removed, then was silenced as his throat was cut so harshly that there was barely anything holding his head to his body. Post death his eyes were pinned open and hands removed, they and the other removed appendages placed at his now dead feet. He would be left still tied to the tree to rot as the camel train moved on.

The attention then moved to Anton's sleeping tent. The entire group of ten handlers Anton and the camel master attended, shocked to the core by the damage to the lad. They quietly knelt in prayer as Anton knelt opposite Abdul, the inner Spike also feeling he was losing his Xander in this moment. Tear-filled blue eyes met agonized green, as the broken small boy coughed once, convulsed a little, then died.

Abdul began to keen then his world went black too and the two shifted once more.

They had been changed again, though this time the shift was a little more dramatic.

Even after a week, it was strange to have eight legs to manage, but the eyes were even more odd, none were able to move to focus, but after a day or so the input from all eight fixed orbs allowed the brain to interpret. The instinct to stay in the shadows was familiar and strangely comforting for both vampires, though the all consuming imperative to release and weave silk into a deadly web was at once disturbing, yet also somehow reassuring in the same way as one might methodically repair a fishing net or knit. The detection of the prey, and the swift hunt and attack was familiar. And the diet was still a liquid one, but this time ingestion occurred only after their own venom had liquefied the internal organs of the victims.

Xander could see his fellow arachnid in the opposite corner of the temple. He could still feel Spike through their link. But once more there was no voice and certainly no physical contact with his blonde counterpart. They simply did as instinct dictated, they watched and waited until prey came to them, and in the meantime observed the Immortal as the now acolyte of the Tibetan monastery had his head shaved yet again as he knelt on the dirt before the temple, then sat in silent prayer as the others were similarly stripped of hair.

Raven locks removed and a saffron robe donned, there were few differences between he and the others in the place of contemplation and study, though his height, extraordinary eyes, timelessness and immense age, and now a very apparent inner calm, after nearly eighty years of careful schooling, set him quite apart from the others.

The two spiders heard the rumors from the other acolytes, he had come from the Rome at the time of the emperor Claudius, via Constantinople and then the silk route, veering off to stop in a temple high in the Tibetan hills at Shalu, around twelve miles south west of Shigatse, and almost so remote as to be almost the stuff of legend.

Anton had apparently arrived and was accepted for his willingness to learn and very genuine need to establish his own balance. He had been wandering rather aimlessly for so long alone, that he had even begun to doubt his own existence. Despite occasionally acting as interpreter, respected (and paid) for assisting merchants through Persia and India, he was still unable to see his own reflection and his continuing need to feed on blood had led him to seek the 'truth'.

As the two spiders took their next meal in their new form, Anton knelt with his fellow students, though unlike their bowls of rice and curries, he humbly accepted the small bowl of goat's blood, reassured that the animal had been treated with reverence and kindness after she gave up the fluid. His prayer of thanks to the dear beast – and to his Goddess – was noted by the other monks.

Three days later, in a moment of lapsed concentration during chanting, Anton noticed the webs in the front two corners of the temple. Later in the day he had meant to dismantle the delicate structures with a long handled broom, but his hand was staid by his teacher – an ancient looking priest, Ahindeh.

Anton immediately dropped the broom and fell to his knees. "I simply thought to keep the temple pure, teacher."

The old man put a kind hand on Anton's shoulder, "These creatures are doing just that, they are ensuring we are free of insects and indeed in this hot summer, are doing a service. You too know the need to hunt for your meal, and more importantly to be feared and misunderstood by humans for that very same need. Get the ladder little brother, meet your fear and befriend the two – that they might remain our protectors for the summer."

First Xander then Spike crawled onto Anton's open palm in turn, both nervous at first yet reassured by the calm, solid flesh. Anton spoke quietly to each in turn then gently pushed his hand back to their corners of refuge.

For the next two weeks he greeted them daily and thanked them for their service, acknowledging their right to exist and their need to kill and feed. And at the same time began to truly accept his own nature and purpose.

The two little girls were hugged close, first by the strong arms of their savior then by the ample bosom of their soon to be adoptive grandmother. The kindly cook had given them fresh milk and a small portion of sausage and bread each. Xander (apparently now called Margot) had felt quite overwhelmed by the whole experience. She ate as much as her small stomach could take and knew that wasting food was wrong but really could not finish her dinner, finally giving in to the fear and grief of their devastating loss and consequent flight from France.

Spike (now Margot's little sister Louise) stopped mid sip of her milk and shuffled swiftly along the bench seat to comfort her sobbing sibling. She almost need not have bothered. They were both scooped up, kissed soundly, then held and rocked for many minutes. In a language that neither recognized but coos and kind caresses culminated in them both sitting quietly, hand in hand, whilst the kindly Liesel measured boiling water into two of her largest cooking pots then topped it up with cold then found some of her scented home made soap (normally kept for gifts).

The girls were helped out of their filthy travelling garb before being lifted into the blissfully warm water, each in their own 'pot'. They were efficiently but kindly washed with a rather rough but sweet smelling cloth, and had their hair lathered then rinsed before they were allowed to stand.

Spike (Louise) stood draped in a dry cloth obviously designed for some other purpose while Xander was dried and similarly attired.

Anton and Gregor (sporting a very fresh marking bite) entered the kitchen soon after and assisted the kindly Liesel by carrying the girls to her small living quarters one story up from the kitchen and putting them to bed.

Gregor sat for many minutes stroking over freshly washed faces and quietly reciting a children's poem he recalled from his own childhood. Xander had already given in to exhaustion and was sleeping soundly, but Spike was awake enough to feel first Gregor then Anton kissing his forehead as they did each of the little refugees in turn, and the whispered, "Here you are all loved and safe. We will see to that."

As Gregor lifted the candle and the two men departed the room, little Louise (aka Spike) saw Anton throw an arm across the other man's shoulders, saw the brotherly hug and heard, "That means you too remember…You are a good man, my new friend…I am pleased you chose to trust me."

Just before snuggling down to spoon his 'sister', Spike made out the quiet reply, "Thank you Master, but I am no longer a man."

Xander jolted awake when a long cane slammed onto the narrow wooden desk between them.

After an emphatic and embarrassed apology to the Master, both tried to straighten on the uncomfortable pew to no avail. It was hard to concentrate when sitting for so long caused actual pain.

Xander could still vaguely feel Spike, but focused on the speaker and realized to their horror that he was…back at school…though not school? University! In front, on the lower pew, were twelve or so young men – all dressed in the hooded grayish gowns of the University of Florence (now ironically located in Pisa). He knew that they, including his cousin, Rolf aka Spike, were being taught by the brilliant young linguist and philosopher, Master Anton. Young Zjot/Xander was a little embarrassed and his first thought was that he had not completed the reading from the previous day, despite his cousin's assistance, plus his back was aching and his lower legs were itching again the heat of the summer.

Spike had answered two questions very well – even citing an exact quote from the text – the other students sitting next to him murmured their approval, and squinted hard at the hand written text in front of them. Xander struggled to concentrate as he wriggled a bit to try to relieve the itch but knew better than to move much more than that when the Master was speaking. He noted that his cousin looked rather uncomfortable also, despite his 'excellent performance.

"Zjot…what is your opinion of Plato's Protagorus and his notion of virtue? Do you like he believe it might be taught – or do you believe it to be innate?"

"Your thoughts on Plato's – or in the case of the dialogue – Socrates' opinion?..."

"I…um…. I…um" the other students were beginning to snigger, but as he looked at the changed form of his cousin Rolf/Spike he rallied a little, "Who knows what good and evil is? We're all both, you can't be good all the time…I…um…I don't think Plato really knew either, he just wanted us to think about it. "

Anton nodded his approval but saw his acolyte squirm in position uncomfortably and knew it was not just the difficulty of the concept and public answer that was making the boy uncomfortable. It was why they remained here under his tutelage and protection. To prevent them becoming fodder for the witch/demon hunters that currently roamed the countryside.

It had been early spring and the two were helping with the search for a group of missing ewes heavy with lambs when they had come across what they thought was some sort of wild animal on the upper slope of Zjot's father's land.

They could see the rest of the flock in a panicked group down the slope so shouted to the farm hands behind them to flank the group as it came through and usher them home.

Zjot and Rolf had charged the Iptigh demon and the creature had simply done as nature demanded, defending its kill ferociously when rudely interrupted by the two boys with sticks and short daggers as it fed on one of the family's precious, pregnant sheep.

The very angry demon had managed to score both boys several times with the barb in its tail as they fought it. Unfortunately the ensuing struggle also saw demon's blood fall on their wounds, mixing with their own and the poison from the barb, and consequently entering their blood streams before the creature had finally broken free and fled.

Open wounds obvious and still bleeding, the boys had hobbled for home, happy that the rest of their family flock of ewes were safe, but unaware that their defense, wounding of the creature and the consequent death of the demon had sealed their fate. In its last moment it murmured the spell that activated its poison and guaranteed the continuation of its species.

After the death of their assailant some hours post attack, both were struck by a fever that lasted three days, then apparently, simply lifted. Little more was made of the incident as the wounds healed and, as had been planned for many months, the two rode to Pisa to begin their studies as had been planned. The family was reasonably wealthy and their landholdings substantial. It had long been planned that the two boys receive education well beyond the usual rudimentary instruction.

The boys had only spent a month at the University when Anton began to smell the change, and in the context of talking about country versus city life and associated experiences, was privy to the tale of the demon attack. He knew the demon species and worried as the distinctive musky scent became stronger on the two young men. By the second month he was positive, there was nothing he could do now but to support them as they adjusted to their new status. He shared his concerns with Gregor, and sought out a demon physician for advice and future assistance with the pair.

And so it was that on a late spring morning, three months after they arrived, both cousins reported feeling irritated and unwell. Zjot had politely asked Anton that he and his cousin return to their rooms at the first break in study, citing stomach upset as the reason, but within minutes both men fell to the ground vomiting and convulsing. Anton knew, it had started.

They were assisted to their rooms where they immediately fell unconscious. Master Anton had sent Gregor to monitor the boys and take what ever action was needed as their forms shifted. That evening Anton had dripped his blood into the slack mouths, had the two boys moved to his own quarters, and spent time meditating and praying to his dear Goddess for clemency for the two innocents.

The combination of appeals and Anton's blood would eventually arrest the complete change allowing their facial features and hands to remain recognizably human and their original memories to be maintained.

A day later the two changelings were still unconscious and writhing in the restraints that tethered torso, wrists and ankles to their beds. It would be seven full days of unconsciousness before the two former humans woke to agonized, itching skin, aching limbs and a strange desperate craving for raw meat.

Lying on their sides facing each other, their restraints gone, they were told calm and that Anton and the physician had been called.

Zjot let out a worried whimper as he moved to scratch an itchy leg and felt thick fur, then looked across to his compatriot, to find a familiar face but set of terrified blue eyes that now had slits rather than circular pupils. They were the first of many shocking discoveries that day, though it could have been worse, their transition to a voiceless no opposing thumb Iptigh demon arrested before it was complete via a combination of Anton's blood, physician's serum and prayers to the gods for clemency. Even so, the catalogue of non human features was extensive.

It took a full two weeks before either had been able to walk upright without assistance or support, as fur covered legs now articulated as that of a cat rather than human, a tail needed to be controlled and strange paws with their sharp talon like nails often slipped on the hard floors of Anton's home.

They both now preferred the crunch of bone and taste of raw meat to other food and struggled to learn to speak clearly around elongated canines, they also sported pointed, fur tipped ears.

They had been assisted by a patient Gregor as they worked out how to manage their monastic robes so as to conceal demon forms from prying eyes, large hood and overly long wide sleeves covering a multitude of differences. Their tails were the biggest difficulty until both had learned to wrap them around slim waists, though relatively uncomfortable to do and giving the two rather a 'portly' look, it was effective. Soft suede, 'winter' shoes worn year round meant paws and claws were concealed.

But it was the notion that they were now outcasts that was the hardest to deal with, and one that their Master Anton was still helping them with. Unable to go home or mix with humans other than when cloistered in the safety of the University, it had taken many months before the two were even confident enough to venture out to the sunny patch of lawn in the middle of the mews.
…

Now sitting in class across from Rolf/Spike, the changed Zjot/Xander smiled a little as he suddenly realized that Master Anton, too, struggled with the idea of virtue, its definition so often society driven, or church driven, or power driven. It was no different in demon circles as he and Rolf (and their alter egos) now knew.

A year previously, Master Anton, accompanied by Gregor, had introduced them to 'the other', the demon communities. It had been a relief and a shock all at once. They entered a long tunnel from a cave mouth on the outskirts of the city terrified of what they might find, but with the legendary Immortal at their side they were treated with a deal of respect and for the first time since their change. Within a half hour they were completely at ease with showing their true form, relieved to finally be able to walk with their tails at ease and hoods down as they wound their way through the bizarre bazaar in the small set of catacombs underneath Pisa.

They followed Anton until he ushered them into an enormous cavern filled with all manner of demons and other world creatures. Both boys' stared in disbelief at the array. The aim that night was to unite the demon clans of the Italian region so a series of 'safe houses/places' in cities and rural locales might be established as the black death, self appointed inquisitors, church leaders and witch hunters captured and murdered, and drove the human population to fear and seek to eliminate the 'other'.

Xander had Zjot's memories of that night. Their remaining human-taught prejudices and struggling sense of self had been confronted, in particular by a young Iptigh demon who immediately treated them as relatives – though their change was not quite complete. She was a very attractive creature with pale fur, refined features, pretty chocolate eyes and a tail that seemed to have a mind of its own, venturing under their robes to find first their tails then their private regions as they stood chatting.

She smelt wonderful and Xander remembered feeling acutely embarrassed as his body responded, tail refusing to be controlled and erection emerging from its now furry encasement to brush the inside of his robe and drip a little fluid. His cousin had been similarly affected and he had smelt the arousal courtesy of heightened demon senses.

Master Anton was magnificent as leader of the meeting, the demon clans all recognized the strength of the magical signature, bowed to his age and listened intently to his wise counsel. He did not discriminate between those who were killers of humans and those who were not, as food sources and natural prey was not the matter under question. The only topic on the agenda was the safety of all magical creatures in their region and the associated strategies to achieve that.

The two had felt strangely reassured. Both had experienced the bloodlust associated with their new form and had occasionally given in to the urge, hunting in a nearby forest or paying a farmer for a live piglet or goat. Pure blood Iptigh always preferred red meat on the hoof and did not kill humans unless in self defense, but they still expected criticism and punishment from Anton for giving in to their desires when he seemed to contain his own so easily.

But that night they saw a different Anton and understood why he did not condemn them for their instinctive acts. Half way through the meeting a group of young maverick vampires led by the Master of Rome began to threaten the tenuous agreement and alliances made to that point. The Childer and Minions of the Master Stavros (and with them, a few other demons) began to heckle, yelling loudly over the others and claiming that they were all giving in to the humans and 'running scared' when they should be targeting the demon haters and kill everyone associated with them.

Anton knew the Master's reputation, and his connections. His call was not based on need but on gaining power over the gathered group. As their protests became violent and the more passive of the beings present began to cower and attempt to move toward the dais or exits for safety, Anton struck. In moves so swift and violent that few of the protestors could even track him, the Immortal dusted the dangerous Master, then all but drained five of his 'support team', while Gregor gagged and tied three of the slower dissident demons who had cheered the vampires on.

The show of strength was appreciated and the meeting concluded an hour later with seventy safe houses, twelve underground locations, and a number of warning strategies established to assist their diverse magical community.

Xander/Zjot came back to the present as Rolf's tail snuck from the confines of his robes to find and intertwine with his cousin's appendage. The effect was electric and Rolf/Spike turned to give Zjot a wicked grin.

As Anton took his chalk piece and turned to scribe some of the major points made by Plato on the blackened wall, Rolf/Spike leaned in close and whispered, "I'm glad we've been changed…now virtue is in making love not denying it." With that his non writing hand slid under Xander's robe and began to gently stroke and massage the furry member between Xander's legs.

Anton smelt the arousal and turned from his writing, only to be met by unrepentant, affectionate grins from the two demons, his charges, in the second row. From where he stood he could see the tails wrapped around each other and undulating slightly. He smiled a little as he turned back to his task, deciding that virtue, like love for another, was difficult to define and may or may not be approved of by society and therefore, perhaps, innate. After 'that night' and the consequent instigation of the 'safe house' system (and saving of hundreds of the magical community) the system spread like wildfire across Europe – as did Anton's reputation as leader/elder. And Anton, the Immortal, found himself absolutely comfortable with the role, truly straddling 'good and evil' for the first time in his very long life.

He was leaving for Rome for a few days – unbeknownst to his students, he would check on the new Master Vampire there, with the full knowledge that the city was his should he want it – it seemed his Immortal blood donated to the eldest Childe of the departed Master Stavros after the night of the 'Alliance' had that effect.

Later that evening in their shared small room, Zjot silently joined Rolf on his narrow bed. Tails wound together and began to move just enough, while sharp nails scraped against furred shafts until both were exposed erect and leaking. In the end the only solution was to rotate, tails still holding each other, enabling mouths to take appendages and working toward conclusion.

As their world went into a sated black Spike and Xander felt the shift begin again.

Spike found himself sitting in a dark room beside his partner – and in this life, once again, his best friend. His head itched and the dress(!) he was wearing was uncomfortably tight around his ribs and waist. His friend leaned over and whispered "Your voice will break soon I'm sure! And then we can both be boys. I mean…come on Will…cheer up! You are so good at this stuff and Mister Shakespeare thinks you are brilliant as Juliet! Oh…I've gotta go…me Paris with a sword, but you're still the one who gets make the boys all hot and bothered! Perks of the job ehh?" Xander/Richard winked and went to stand stage left ready for his entrance.

Will knew it was important to do well. It was the first anniversary of the Globe, now located on the opposite side of the river to 'The Theatre' (formerly the Blackfriars Theatre) run by his employer Richard Burbage's brother Cuthbert. The players had only just arrived back into London after yet another plague episode which closed the theatres and drove them into the provinces to perform for any audience they could find.

Spike was strangely in his element in the theatre. His host body obviously knew his lines and associated stage moves, and his own studies and passion for Shakespeare's works in his lifetime paid dividends.

As Juliet, he was stunning, fine boned and pretty, regardless of gender, he graced the stage to answer his nurse's call to the cheer of an audience who admired him as a fine actress and lovely girl. He loved the play but hated kissing John (Romeo) – who always tried to push in a tongue had foul breath and regularly insulted him with words like 'bent-like-a-Will-ohh', 'sailor's-slut' and 'Pussy-loves-Dick' (playing on the fact that Will and Richard shared a tiny room in the slums near the theatre).

In the past two years, to his embarrassment, so many had commented on his beauty that he had twice been forced by the Queen's men to stand at rehearsal, raise his skirts and prove his manhood. The sniggers of the soldiers as they 'inspected' him and commented on the type of man that would cross dress were more hurtful than any comment made by his fellow players, or the humiliation of being reported. He knew that at fifteen and a half he had yet to grow…in all departments…and was further frustrated by the fact that his best friend even had facial hair! Will sometimes worried that he would be condemned to the female roles for all time…

"This is a visitor from Italy lads…and after tonight's fine effort he had donated two hundred fine Sovereigns to our establishment. Will, in particular, caught his eye. Well done Will. The Count has asked that you attend him." There were several badly muffled guffaws from his fellow players – and he distinctly heard the badly disguised "Faggot" in a cough from Romeo (aka John) who then stared at him with a sneer, all but daring a comment.

Will simply nodded meekly and stood, eyes cast down. He was still in costume though sans wig, something that did not escape his friend Richard/Xander who stood also and appealed to the stranger on Will's behalf. "Please good Sir, allow Will to change and remove the powder and color from his face. His costume is most uncomfortable, and I know he will be better company for you without it."

Anton was rather pleased and surprised by the boldness of the talented young actor's friend, "I would have it no other way, and would be pleased if you attend dinner with us also. I fancy Master Burbage will approve your attendance also." As Richard/Xander's jaw dropped, Anton turned to Burbage, "And of course your lovely wife, Winifred isn't it? Please feel free to invite her."

Richard Burbage looked decidedly shocked, "Yes…um well yes that would be nice – but unfortunately she is in the country with the children…the plague you see."

"Excellent! He's promised me a copy of one of his sonnets and a new play in exchange for fifty Sovereigns – I've asked him to do something about Verona."

Burbage looked incredulous, fifty Sovereigns would keep his friend in luxury for months – and gave ample excuse for many plays to be penned without interruption! He turned his gaze upon the boys and growled, "Well??!! Go clean up! Our patron is waiting."

Will and Richard nodded then scurried off to the changing room, both eager to escape the comments and sniggers of their colleagues regards pretty boys, foreigners and threesomes.

The tavern was on the north side of the Thames, close to the tower, and rather a quieter affair than Burbage and Shakespeare were used to. The food was good, the company interesting and mood jolly. Shakespeare penned his Eighteenth Sonnet from memory for Anton, and the Spike part of Will gasped as it was handed to the Immortal. It was the same parchment, lovingly preserved, that Anton had given he and Xander after their first venture to Italy.

But it was the conversation later that evening, when Shakespeare and Burbage were busy 'wenching' (i.e. drunk, dancing and fooling with the ladies) that led Spike and Xander to understand why they had been flung into this role.

It had been Xander that had initiated the conversation after feeling decidedly uncomfortable sitting staring at his own fists, in silence, opposite their benefactor.

"Sir? Sir…um…Do…do…um sorry…but do you have a castle? You know…that you live in?"

Anton smiled, "I have lived in many but only own two, and they are small in comparison with the grandeur of your Queen's castle here."

Richard/Xander's eyes went wide but it was Will who finished the thought, "You've been in there?"

"Well of course! Her Majesty wanted an interpreter, I speak and read a number of languages and happened to be invited to assist. Your dear monarch really isn't good with the eastern languages – quite understandable really. I think she also finds me…pleasant on the eye and rather amusing."

"We're not always what we seem." Anton looked hard at Will. "You know you are not a girl, but you are a very beautiful boy. Others misinterpret that, take you for something you are not…think you are young, weak or somehow effeminate and vulnerable, that can be used to your advantage…If you are judged as weak or different so be it, but by staying true to yourself, all will be well in the end." It seemed as though Anton had started to talk to himself not his company, so when the handsome man in front of Will seemed to sigh and look sad, he moved to sit right beside him and took up the man's hand. Richard/Xander noted the move and repeated it on the other side. Anton smiled at that.

"When this season is done, come and stay with me in Surrey for a few weeks of fishing and recreation. I have a lovely little estate on the river and would appreciate the extra company and you boys would prove a welcome uncomplicated change. What do you say Burbage? Of course you and Shakespeare here are welcome – though I forgive you should you decline, I believe wives and families too have demands."

Again Anton looked very sad and the glance across to his silent manservant Gregor spelt bushels of pain and longing. Will squeezed the hand he was holding and leaned in close. The man made him feel loved and respected just by permitting the contact, the least he could do was provide comfort. Richard did likewise. Both were rewarded by joined hands being lifted for a soft, thankful kiss from a man that their alter-egos knew so well.

It had only been a day or so since their shift, yet that night, curled up on their shared, tiny bed in a rented loft above a boot maker's shop, they felt the pull again.

Spike knew immediately he came to his senses. It was Zurich on the seventh day of the seventh month, 1652. The young banker adjusted his small spectacles the v-clip giving little purchase and inclined to fall if not attended. At home he was inclined to tie a ribbon from one side to the other, but it was hardly the look for a professional young banker at his place of employ.

Hardly a man of numbers, Willem (and Spike reflected – at least this time he would remember his own name!), had been employed for his gift with languages, his attractive boyish features that seemed to put the customers at ease, and the fact that he was the grandson of one of the founders of the bank, (always a bonus).

One customer, who was more than just that, entered and waited to be ushered to the desk.

Pierre, youngest son of the Canton ruler of Solothurn grinned at the blonde Willem as he approached, politely leading an attractive man with jet black hair and amazing green eyes. Willem felt a spike of jealousy, then the real Spike's memories kicked in and he relaxed.

"May I introduce Herr Anton La Intemporel…He is a man of some substance with interests in many places, and wishes to deposit his holdings in your bank's capable hands."

Willem stood and offered his right hand, keeping his left, as was custom, on the rather ornate decorative, short sword sheathed at his hip.

The grasp of the other man was firm yet friendly, and the conveyed friendship plus something he felt quite challenged by, the unmistakable feel of brotherly love.

They processed the transaction and locked away Anton La Intemporel's 'extra' funds, along with the deeds for various properties in five countries.

Will then suggested Herr Anton take a leisurely walk along the walled river. The man had just deposited nearly a thousand gold coins, and a variety of jewelry into the vault. If an infatuation with a young employee was afoot, then Pierre knew that the pretty, blindingly intelligent Will, would understand his reason for choosing him as the banker.

Instead however, they were both invited to go fishing in the warmth of the late afternoon.

Willem was rather embarrassed at his inexperience even, Spike had done a minimum or fly fishing in his time – so those memories did not help.

As they wandered down the well worn track by the river, La Intemporel's influence was almost electric but the two humans felt oddly calm despite the ongoing dialogue being difficult at times and the noble preferring to stand, silently fishing or contemplating the stars. For Willem, fishing was wet and cold and frustrating if nothing was caught, nevertheless that was not why he was there,

The Immortal looked from Canton leader's son to young banker and back. The attraction was obvious, the arousal potent, afternoon warm, and mood relaxed.

He and his man Anton took the fishing lines in hand and let the two lads relax together on the bank. Anton looked over at the pair as they tentatively began to caress each other, they were so young, so innocent and trusting, so pretty together.

They would take wives no doubt, but the elite were renowned for having discrete liaisons, some lasting years, and though it would need to be very discrete given the same gender, in a way that also helped…it was, after all, now very much a man's world.

As the group of fishermen (and the fishers of men) wandered up the bank to their horses and departed, Pierre slept, and at the end of the day Willem turned to the enigmatic 'Anton la Intemporel' and in very formal tones asked a rather challenging question, "Do you, sir, think we are better than the beasts?... That we should all control our carnal pleasures? I speak of curbing our desire and creativity all at once for the sake of another being... one someone loves?"

Anton thought for a moment then smiled, "Only if the person is worth it. One can endure anything if that is the case. Control is more about endurance and acceptance than it is about power. It is the ultimate form of worship and admiration. The ultimate self flagellation in the name of honor."

At the end of the day, as Gregor made a fire upon which they could cook their catch, Anton sat quietly while Pierre spoke enthusiastically of the Cantons agreement to act as one and come together peacefully.

Lying on the bank, picking sweet, cooked flesh from the fishy bones of his meal, Willem ventured the question – despite his station, "How is it, Herr la Intemporel, that you came to us to invest?"

Anton noted the bright young blue eyes, the genuine curiosity and smiled, "I need a safe place to put my fortune, your friend here recommended your services, what better endorsement."

The Immortal did not miss the affectionate sideways glance between the two young men, then was rather surprised by the next statement from Pierre/Xander, "Not everything is about money Herr Immortal. It helps to have it, but it is not everything."

Anton reached for the young man's hand and squeezed it – and it was not just the 'perfectly behaved' Pierre that caught the full meaning of the strangely fatherly contact, but Xander, the lost boy of Sunnydale too. As the young Canton leader's son placed his hand over that of the Immortal's, a jolt went through the existing link from Xander to Spike, and all three felt the desperate need to be loved, despite others' rules.

The four men, Anton, Gregor, Pierre and Willem, spent a moonlit evening on the banks of the exit of Zurich's main river, the two older vampires simply lying content while the younger men found solace and joy in joint release and quiet repose. Anton's last thought…that love transcended other societal rules.

Xander was in the dark and could feel a leather swiveled leash around one ankle holding him fast. Wherever he was standing kept moving slightly and there were sounds of horse hooves and men's voices. A shout went up and Xander braced himself with strangely calm anticipation.

The soft suede of his blindfolding hood was removed, and instantly he felt his leg strap released and the surface he was standing on launch him into the air. He knew what to do.

They had both learned to trust their instincts in their last bizarre incarnations and now was no different, so wings opened and the hunting hawk sped skyward, Spike his blonde feathered counterpart somewhere off to his right and mere seconds behind.

They each soared high, the magnificent long pointed wings of their peregrine falcon forms allowing a near silent attack. The 'feathered bullets' as they were known throughout the civilized world, took out their prey with a deadly thud as they first head butted their victims (two ducks in flight) catching the stunned birds momentarily to sever the spine with a lethal beak, before letting the far heavier bird drop and returning to their Masters.

It was the sport of Kings, and as Xander returned to his Master's arm, Anton smiled watching Spike carefully land on the arm of a young Prince Peter. A cheer was heard from the observing crowd of nobles – amongst them the boy's father, Alexei Mikhailovich Romanov. Mounted, with his own larger peregrine female hooded and held on a gloved arm, the man was ruler of all Russia and a passionate falconer. He almost burst with pride as his twelve year old son (one day to be known as Peter the Great) took the well trained tiercel 'Chayton' onto his arm without fear and fed the bird a tasty morsel of beef before replacing his hood.

That night Spike and Xander (now apparently called 'Tiohtli'), were in their large apiary with another twenty or more falcons. Their hoods were removed as they were released into the safe space, but not before noticing the identity of the Chief Falconer, Gregor.

He spoke quietly to them, congratulating Spike especially, for being so good to the Young Prince, and letting them both know that they had done his Master Anton a great service, "As always my dear ones…as always…I envy you sometimes, I tend and train your chicks ready for nobility, you simply enjoy the hunt then are tended…It would be nice to hunt one's natural prey without regret."

Spike's movements were typically the swift ones of his current species as he turned to glance at Xander on the other perch and then cocked his head to the side as their Master moved silently to push an open, bleeding wrist in front of their kind trainer.

As Gregor accepted the liquid gift and sustenance, Anton, the Immortal whispered, "As do I little brother, as do I…But we are as we are. And it seems that is good enough for the Prince. He has gifted us (with his father's approval), one of his lesser country estates, so we might continue to return to assist for the summer. I assume that King Alexei really just wants to present the Belgian and French courts with their usual falcons as gifts as it is the King has promised us a handsome sum as retainer for the next year season."

"Alexei is well aware of our 'unique' status…indeed one of the King's cousins was turned when they were still teenagers. Seems he was staked by the Slayer of the time – Finnish girl – when only three months young. Sire and he were out riding in the moonlight. She threw the stake almost fifty yards to pierce his heart. Family was devastated – funny thing about Royalty…seem to cope with eccentricity in relatives a little better than their subjects."

"I'm tired Gregor. Let us just stay for a time, accrue our wealth, and make our connections in the north. Besides I like all the world's royalty since I can remember, appreciate the grace, the beauty and the deadliness of these magnificent creatures and their loyalty to us." As if on cue Spike bobbed a little then cocked his head just so. He was not disappointed.

Anton continued, "My dear devoted friend, I know you've seen it too. The falconry is a symbol of nobility, and an entry card to the highest echelons of power. These beautiful birds, you(!), this is what we need to influence, not violence or ruthlessness (though that may prove necessary at times). Be happy here Gregor – whether it be 20 or 50 years, our lovely raptor friends offer us a key to the kingdom…of men."

Anton stroked Spike's feathers then Xander's, before he and Gregor shut off the light in the apiary and departed. Two days later, on yet another hunt, they would learn that their far larger female partners had both produced fertile eggs. Anton would always bred his favorites, and rejoiced, that was as it should be. He adored his deadly game birds and it was right that their lines continue.

Anton's permanent home would be Russia for close to ninety years, though trips to the rest of Europe would be many…Spike and Xander knew the history but resigned themselves to their current fate, strangely wondering if their offspring would be male or female, though it mattered not. They would all be cared for regardless.

The two male birds perched close and fluffed their feathers with that final thought. Then felt the next shift.

But this time the shift was back to their own time. An exhausted looking Connor jerked awake as Xander groaned and squeezed his partner's hand. Spike's awareness returned slowly, he wondered what they were this time, and he reached out to his mated Childe through their link and took an unnecessary intake of breath as he felt a second signature, his full blood brother!

Instantly wide awake, Spike took proper stock of their surroundings. They were as they had been when the spell was first cast, he on lying Anton's right, Xander the Immortal's left. He squeezed back and sent deep adoration through their immediate link and love to Connor, who's worried, sleep deprived, tear-filled eyes now looked down on them, desperately relieved to see at least them conscious.

All Connor was able to manage was a croaky, "Hey…" before a tear escaped and tracked down his still surprisingly boyish features as he pushed a wrist against Spike's mouth and felt the gentle piercing and two or three drafts being taken before they were withdrawn and the offering made to the Mate while he himself, for the first time in almost a month, accepted blood from his brother.

The two vampires then exchanged a little blood and sat up slowly. Connor cleared his throat then sat at the end of the bed. Neither of the ruling couple failed to notice the hand on Anton's still inert covered leg and worried look at the gaunt features. The usually animated dancing green eyes were still closed, his breathing and heart beat absent, the perfect picture of a corpse.

"We had to…you had stopped feeding – even the force feeding wasn't working, except when it was my blood…and I'm sorry I just…It's just that…I didn't have enough for all three of you, not every day! And I knew you needed it…but in the end…I just…Forgive me! Please?!" Begging eyes found a loving look and a smile from the High Master.

"Thought I felt a might peckish. Now come here you daft bugger, 'n stop apologizin' !"

Spike pulled the man into his arms and hugged him as tightly as he was able, and Xander reached over to make contact also. Unfettered love and concern flowed in all directions through the link, and Connor so distressed that Helle flew into the room seconds later, Olivia on her hip. Connor's dear partner cried out with a combination of surprise, joy and distress. They were awake.

She, Willow and Stephanie had eventually agreed to Connor's request after they realized that the three now were failing to feed properly.

Anton's condition still had not changed but later that night the two sides of the family compared notes.

Amelie took the notes – her older and younger siblings were all present, as were the wiccans, Gregor, plus Mistress Minna and her entourage (arriving unannounced to assist the full blood and High Master as needed).

Spike looked rather amazed. Now very well fed and back to full strength, he and his Mated Childe were trying to get their thoughts around the idea that it had only been just on four weeks! Nevertheless the two conveyed what they knew. Each of their incarnations were given dates, but more importantly context. If Anton was seeking something, then they had to be clear, as the now well fed High Master and Mated Childe voiced their intention to repeat the spell in an attempt to 'go back.

Spike began the narrative, or rather the summary, some details too private to divulge, Xander only pitching in occasionally when things…became too painful for his Sire.

- Two of Kliesthenes' soldiers, slaves and lovers, given mercy by Anton in his human guise, followed by the grief of losing a loving servant and comfort from his two. Grief and solace.

- Two slave girls , mothers of his children, their forced marking and his consequent desperation and kind acts. Grief.

- The two dogs and his turning, his special status and appreciation of their continuing loyalty. Grief and solace.

- His years of exile and the clemency of the Senator as the 'demon' submits to his damning. Grief and solace.

- The camel master on the Silk Road, Xander's violation and death, and Anton's first use of his demon nature for retribution…and the fatherly feeling of love of the other boy. Grief.

- Lessons at the Tibetan Monastery with the spiders. Acceptance of his own changed state.

- Taking in Gregor as life friend and helping the little girls. Sadness for them and solace for the lost Gregor…Love, Loyalty and Companionship.

- Respect and responsibility as academic Master at Heidelburg, reinforcing the notion of the acceptance of the 'other' in all of us, and reinforced by new standing in the demon community. Anton accepted as having a role for the first time since in human form, but also aware of the 'outcast' factor. Devotion and Loyalty and…Power.

- In London with Burbage, mixing with royalty and influence increasing but also willing to venture his attentions to the arts. The idea of 'not all we seem' and 'use the inadvertent ruse to advantage' being the theme. Love, Respect, Power, and Companionship.

- The Swiss interlude was important too. Societal foibles would prevent males from showing affection – but allow them to be passionate in other areas. It was also the time Anton began the truly international of his interests. And they were there. Trust and Love and Investment.

- And finally as the two recalled their feathered incarnation they both simply said…Love, Loyalty, Skill and Companionship.

They were living through Anton's unbelievably long life, and there was no doubt the reason…the struggle to make sense of such a long life when now, at a time he had found true love with the Slayer and family happiness with his boys, his partner had been cruelly taken from him, his magical status null and void to help her.

If Anton could not move beyond the notion that his dearly departed Buffy was the summation of everything he was, everything he needed for his existence, then he would be doomed for all time to a state of inanimate grief in a tomb for the undead. He needed to accept the love of others once more, and lean on family and friends, letting them lend their strength to him for a change.

At the end of the meeting all knew, the demise of Anton following her death was the last thing Buffy would have wanted for the love of her life.

It was the Childe Xander who spoke first. Still clad in his dark purple silk, brocaded dressing gown, his tone was commanding. "You must send us back! He must make sense of all this…he really must!" Xander looked to his Sire and Spike reached out to take his Childe's hand.

"I agree. Leave us under until we are at the point of no return. If we cannot do it then…the Court will go on. Pull us out and we will all grieve together."

Both vampires spent the following day catching up on the various business and court issues that had been identified by Connor as urgent and 'not a Connor thing'.

That evening the family gathered. They all knew, if this did not work then their beloved Anton would not come back to them, effectively as dead as his dearly departed partner, Buffy.

It was the first time Spike and Xander had seen Gregor cry. Anton's loyal loving friend stood in the shadows of the doorway his beautiful Stephanie already in the room preparing with the other wiccans to begin the spell again. But as Gregor looked at his dearest friend, his Master, he simply could not face the implications of possible the failure of the venture and fell back against the wall, sliding down and sobbing with a grief he had not felt for centuries. The ruling couple were the last to enter the room and almost tripped over the figure curled up just before the doorway. They both dropped to their knees and pushed in close.

For the first time in his very long life, Gregor cried into another man's chest. He had always been strong for his Master but could not imagine going on without the Immortal. How could he be strong for his Stephanie if he lost his brother, his Master, his father figure, his best friend, his surrogate Sire?? His demon was grieving, his soul lost, his whole identity challenged and his hope waning. Stephanie needed her strength for the spell, but as Connor joined the ruling couple on the floor the noble Gregor collapsed forward in an agonized flood of tears keening and simply sobbing over and over, "Take my blood…drain me…but save him…Please save him…Please save him. He is my brother, my friend, my father, my master…please…br…bring him back!!!"

Spike pulled the dear friend into a tight hug, kissed him on the forehead soundly, then did something he had never dared before, with lightening speed he moved to bite just below the vampire's mark and drew blood, as Spike took a long draft, first Xander, then Connor gave their wrists to Anton's devoted servant and loyal household member.

Eventually the mood calmed and close to midnight (and a full moon) the Xander and Spike kissed loved ones then lay down with the Immortal once more. At the very last minute before they were hit by the spell again, Willow mentioned something in passing, "Maybe he just needs to make his way back here too? Maybe this is about the accepting love in the now and believing it will continue…?"

The two young men came too with a jolt as the annoyed tapping of an orchestra conductor signaled yet another stop in their practice. Will/Spike recognized the music immediately from his own experience and as soon as they restarted the introduction to "O zittre nicht". It was Mozart's "Die Zauberflöte" (the Magic Flute) and the violins were struggling with the new opera, and they only had another two weeks of rehearsal.

Alec/Xander was on tympani and was doing a fine job according to the conductor. He looked over sympathetically as once again the second violins were targeted as the rather obsessive (often drunk) Mozart had the same passage repeated, and repeated…and repeated. They were playing a rather 'out of town' opera house in Vienna, but it was by no means obscure – indeed a perfect place to launch the Mozart's latest opera. But in the late summer of August 1791 it was fearfully hot in the orchestra pit.

Finally they were allowed to pack up. Discussions of the dress rehearsal in ten days' time brought groans as all knew that would mean the itchy wigs, tight breaches and stockings…and little if any break. They could only hope it was a cool day.

As Will/Spike packed away his instrument – carefully cleaning the finely polished surface of any sweat or marks and rubbing resin onto the bow, his friend, and room mate, sidled up behind him and leaned casually against the wall of the orchestra pit.

"Nahhh, better get this intro sorted or I'll be out on my arse and playing second fiddle in some gypsy band!"

"Don't matter…You go, I fancy I'll just eat the bread and cheese then make sure…"

"Oh C'mon Will! You're the best they have in the seconds…and it's been weeks since you've come out with us…Mozart is sure to show…Oh come on Will! Just come for a while at least…Please?"

"Don't be ridiculous! Besides Aart said one of the major patrons might be there, Count Someone-or-other, very young and very rich apparently. Old money too – apparently something to do with the Russian Court as far back as Peter the Great."

Will finally agreed and followed his friend still carrying his violin and grumbling about 'old blokes and money and snobbery'. They walked across the cobbled town square pink lit with the sunset.

Veering off into an alleyway the two soon found themselves amongst the patrons of the tavern as the warm night drew people into the street. The two orchestra members wound their way through the mêlée of drinkers and eventually found their fellow musicians, their conductor, most of the singers, plus two men they had seen sitting silently in the balcony seats at the opening of Mozart and da Ponte's revival of the popular 'Marriage of Figaro' two years previously.

At the time, the entire orchestra had been told that the patron had donated a large sum of money to assist the company, and that he was a personal friend of the Emperor Joseph II, though most assumed a relative, given his young age.

Will instantly recognized the twenty something, handsome man, as he stood with his slightly older manservant.

The Count was a tall, slim figure with raven hair, amazing green eyes and exuding a confidence and charisma that drew a crowd of admirers, most, in this case, members of the current opera production. But for some reason Count Anton's attention fell to the two young men who joined the jolly group of players, and in particular, his piercing gaze focused on the quiet blonde sporting a violin case.

To Will and Alec's surprise, they were the suddenly the focus of the entire group as the young Count strode through the group and welcomed them into the crowded beer house.

"Hah! Finally someone with an instrument! And what timing…we are in need of a tune. Come good sir, your skills can not go unappreciated. Gregor will find you and your friend drinks if you will but entertain us for a while."

Will's blush of embarrassment was head to toe as he studied his shoes most avidly. Alec likewise chose to drop his gaze, but as the youthful Count placed an un-gloved hand under the shy, perfectionist, violinist's chin, everything changed. Neither Will nor Alec was equipped to deal with the presence of the Immortal when they were his single focus. Finally Will managed a near whispered, "Yes alright…" then turned to Alec "Can you provide the beat?"

Alec merely nodded and both were glad to accept a mug of ale from the enigmatic Gregor as were given a few moments to gather their thoughts, and for Alec to find something that would suffice as a drum. Fortunately the tavern owner had an old hand held instrument from Ireland that had been given to him by a grateful patron. The man fetched it while Alec and Will downed their drinks and seated themselves on a table ready to play.

Will started with a hearty tune that he knew the members of the company would recognize from the Marriage of Figaro and was pleased that fine voices were soon all but drowning out his and Alec's playing.

What followed was an evening of dance and song, Will and Alec all but exhausted by the end. Will's final piece was a slow lament, a piece he had written himself after his mother died, and played as though the violin was his own cries of loss. It marked the end of the evening. As he wiped down his instrument ready to place it in its case, Will smiled tiredly at Alec, "Got my practice in after all."

They were about to leave when the Count Anton approached them. "I thank you, gentle sirs. Tonight surpassed all my expectations, as I intended only to show my support then leave. Ahh but it is now past midnight and I cannot remember such a fun filled night in years. Please, do me the honor of accepting a ride home in my carriage. It's raining, and the least I can do."

Will thought to protest, then decided to take a chance when he saw Alec's delighted expression and near frantic nod. Navigating the dark streets of Vienna was hard (and somewhat dangerous) enough when the roads and alleyways were dry. Wet, it was extremely unpleasant as well. Yet good manners were important.

"Thank you Sir, you are most generous, but we would not want to put you to any trouble."

"There is no trouble involved I assure you. Indeed I have a favor to ask of you. I am to entertain an important delegation from beyond Italy in two weeks' time, I wonder if you would agree to playing for the occasion. I will speak to Maestro Mozart – you might come following your performance, if that is not too much to ask. You would of course be paid and accommodated for the evening."

In the end they both agreed to the ride enthusiastically, but worried a little regards the other request. Their trip home was consequently taken in luxury, with their host Anton, to their surprise, more than willing to make friendly conversation with his travel companions.

He queried them regards their music, families and life in general, sharing little of his own lifestyle but enough to pique the two musicians' interest. Alec divulged that he was a lucky orphan taken in by his elderly Uncle, a priest and lover of music. He had been trained to play organ but shined on percussion and had found himself in demand as his skill on the glockenspiel and timpani found him moving to Vienna and with almost permanent work.

Will's shy voice piped up after Alec fell silent, revealing to the Count that he was the only sibling in his family to have survived beyond ten, and parents both dying of a lung illness during a particularly cold winter. Consequently he was left to find his own way in life at fourteen. A gifted violinist, he had been accepted into a small chamber group immediately, and later into the regular opera orchestra.

"Alec and I were in the same orchestra for almost a year and eventually got talking. It seemed right and I asked Alec to move in with me. After the burials, I had enough from the sale of the apartment to survive but Alec needed somewhere too. We pooled our resources and were able to afford our small rooms." Will shrugged then plucked up the courage to ask, "If I may be so bold…What of your family, Sir?"

It was the first time the dancing eyes of the Count looked pained and Will quickly tried to retract the statement, "Oh…please…Excuse my prying. I have no right…" Will's gaze immediately fell to the floor, he shrank back into the seat as the carriage took yet another turn, and worked his hands desperately as he attempted to think of some way to ease the distress of their kind benefactor.

Anton did not fail to notice the affectionate arm that wormed its way around the young violin player's shoulders, or hear the whispered, "It's OK, Will. C'mon…It'll be OK."

The Immortal reached forward and touched both on the knee with his full magical signature all but burning, "Worry not, I am simply sad to have lost those I love so many years ago. I like you, am alone, as is Gregor here. But I, like you with Alec, find solace in a loyal and kind friend. We together will prevail, but you two also have your music…Please agree to play at my home…"

Will saw a fellow soul in the begging eyes and instinctively reached for the pale hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing it, looking pointedly at his companion, "It would be our honor Sir."

Four days later, after but two practices with wonderful harp player Danton, they were graced by the presence of an exquisite soprano, Illizia and amazing tenor, Minos. Both had voices that would have outstripped any on the stage at the time…but were obviously not in need of employ as Count Anton greeted each with the kiss on both cheeks of a familiar.

Leading Lines

by Josie

Copyright © 2007

josie_h@yahoo.com