For the Night has been Unkind

I don't own a damn thing. Sad, innit? Even the stuff that isn't Joss' isn't mine…

Author: Aloysha.

Rating: R or NC-17. Depends on where you chance over it.

Pairings: Xan/Spike, Dru/Willow, OZ/Spike/Xan, and Xan/Oz. Minor: Xan/Cordy, Willow/Oz, Buffy/Angel.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Sex, Slash, Bloodplay, Language, Violence, Dominance/Submission, Heyna!Xan, Solider!Xan, Child Abuse, Non-con, and so on and so forth. I hate planning ahead…

Summery: When Spike comes back to Sunnydale and wants Willow to get Dru back for him, she does the spell but for some strange reason it's Xander who's effected…Spike decides to deal.

Notes: Since it's AU I felt okay just rewriting all of the scenes as I saw fit…ahhh, artistic licenses.

Yes, I did mention some Dru/Wil action (woot). Thanks to all who reviewed, you make me all warm and tingly inside, and as such I apologize profously for the delay in this chapter.

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Chapter Two

Another Fluke

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Xander was floating…well, maybe not floating exactly, but he felt decidedly disconnected from his body, hovering outside of himself. Thus the strange kind of floaty feeling he was having at the moment.

He blamed science for this little predicament. Well…science and the evil bleached vampire who had knocked him out with chemistry equipment, a microscope if Xander was forced to go out on a limb, but mostly science. And maybe himself a tiny bit. He really needed to talk to Willow about the 'fluke' thing and explain that it wasn't a fluke but him being a jerk and then try to buy back her love with lots and lots of chocolate.

The sooner he got it over with the less likely he was to get smacked with blunt objects and it might ease his guilt over these very bad, very homo-happy encounters he kept having with her boyfriend. Sure, it'd only been the two but he felt really bad about each of them.

More so this time, since there had been some mutual participation.

It was so Willow's own doing. She was trying to alleviate her guilt by having him and the werewolf do the bonding thing and he couldn't be blamed if bonding included doing a Dunkin Donuts run in Oz's van before school and if said donut run somehow ended up with them in the back of the van, Xander all but in Oz's lap and making sounds he'd never made…in the company of another person before.

Xander really wasn't sure how they'd gotten back there. It had started so…normally. Normal for the Scooby Gang anyway.

"I'm thinking we should go cream-filled. Those are the girls' favorites." Xander said while eying the money in his wallet. Giles was always good for giving him whatever he spent on pastry goodness back but if he was short prior to buying the aforementioned goodness he was kind of screwed, since they were already outside of the shop and all.

"Mm." Oz said and somehow, despite it barely being a full-fledged grunt, the noise seemed to say a lot. Unfortunately none of what it said was helping Xander decide. He looked up, tempted to say as much when he noticed Oz was leaning in to him, nostrils flaring and pupils dilated.

And wow, where had Xander learned what 'dilated pupils' were? Damn health classes and their stupid 'learning through osmosis'. …Wait, Osmosis? Just when he thought he'd retained nothing from Biology but a fear of speaking in front of his peers.

"Oz-man? You okay? You're looking a little wigged over there and-"

"Back." Oz's voice was a mere whisper, harsh and grating. It sent a chill up Xander's spine but not necessarily the bad kind of chill, not that he'd known there was good kind and all of a sudden his mind was back in the library, under Oz and that was soo not where Xander wanted to be.

The library. Under Oz didn't seem like such a bad concept, actually. Only it was a really terrible concept and was Oz laughing on him? Yeah, he was. Xander could count on one hand (finger even) how many times he'd seen Oz laugh and of course the older teen choose this moment to do it.

Xander was yanked forward until a kiss that was nothing short of heated. Fingers curled in his shirt, blunt nails scrapping over skin as teeth worried over his bottom lip. The kiss was sloppy and wet and biting and Xander felt hot and flushed. It was never like this with Cordy; she was very precise and didn't let Xander touch her hair, muss her clothes, or mess up her makeup too much. Oz was all heat and passion and God but Xander was hard right now. He allowed himself to be shuffled into the back and moved so he straddling Oz's lap.

Light streamed in from the windows, through the cracks of the pale blue curtains hung there, and the off-orange carpet was vaguely uncomfortable under Xander's palms so he put his hands on Oz's shoulders, solid and very much there

He heard the rasp of his zipper going down and then Oz's hand wrapped around him, burning hot and everything shut down and seemed to center around Xander's cock and all he could do was stare into bright hazel eyes and rock forward in time to Oz's stroking. Cordelia would never do something like this, touch him like this. It was much too messy for her and she probably wouldn't see the point and Xander's brain was dangerous close to just shorting out. He groaned, leaning down to kiss Oz again and reveling in how out of control he felt.

He had come, rather loudly and messily, only to be rolled to the side and left alone for a few moments. When Oz returned it was with a box of donuts and a wad of paper towels. They hadn't said anything else to each other for the rest of the day.

Not that they had spoken a whole lot before that, but still…it was weird.

"You keep her brush? That's a little creepy…no offense."

"I really don't want to have to eat your friend."

A squeak that sounded a lot like Willow was what moved him fully into the world of the waking and helped him banish all thoughts of the aforementioned friend's boyfriend from his mind. He found he couldn't even be truly surprised when he realized he was tied to a stone something, in the middle of a pretty run down room. This was pretty much the story of his life really. Get kidnapped, get beaten, get tied up and used as bait for Buffy.

He frowned, trying to force away the headache pounding at his skull, to remember what had happened beyond the fuzzy recesses of his mind and the Oz groping he'd been subject to that morning. (Okay, so not all thoughts were completely vanished) It was harder to get around the Oz groping than the fuzziness of course, as he didn't really want to know what had lead to Spike cracking him over a head with a microscope.

Knowing wasn't going to make his head hurt any less now was it?

He and Willow had been in the chem lab at school so she could do a spell and he'd been really close to confessing that he didn't really feel anything for her because she had a tendency to create panic and chaos when she went and used her mojo.

Xander didn't want to end up as a toad or something like that. No amount of self-denial was worth being trapped as some animal or in a trophy or any of a number of things that could happen when Willow tried to cast a spell on them.

Then hell had kind of broken loose, which explained the pain. He was always in pain; it was the story of his life really.

He looked around, trying to place the strangely familiar room, but instead his gaze fell on Willow who was sitting on the ground in the middle of a circle and looking up at someone fearfully.

Xander groaned, trying to communicate that he was awake and in some pain.

"Ah, the whelp's awake." Spike drawled with more amusement than Xander was totally comfortable with. That smarmy British accent was engraved on his mind along with Angel offering him up as a gift, like he was a fruitcake or something. That bastard. Aside from a certain dark sexiness Angel really had no redeeming qualities. He was a whiney, wussy, destiny whipped, cradle robbing asshole; what Buffy saw in him Xander would never understand.

Not that he wanted to understand, because really, eww much?

"Just in time to see Red's little spell." Spike continued and, as he spoke, moved into Xander's line of vision. Same as the last time they'd seen each other: Bleach blond hair, all black and red, pale, really amazing blue eyes…

No. Not attracted to the evil kidnapping vampire, no matter how pretty his eyes were.

"I-I don't know if I can do this. Soul bounding might be beyond my skills. Permanent spells are-"

"You re-attached Peaches' soul and you better well bring my Drusilla back to me!" Spike roared, anger flaming in his eyes. Xander couldn't help but laugh. "Something funny whelp?"

"Well…yeah. You kidnapped us so Willow can find your girlfriend? That's kind of pathetic, you know? Maybe she left for a reason?"

Spike blinked at him then snorted. "It's not pathetic, it's love. I'd do anything to keep my Dark Plum with me, something you're not ever likely to understand. You humans can't understand it; how much it hurts and pulls at you, threatening to crush you into dust under the weight of it. You think staying together for a few decades is commendable but real love lasts centuries and is talked about long after you're dust. That's what me and Dru have."

Xander stared, arching an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

"Do you like breathing?" Spike growled, eyes flashing gold.

"Depends on the day." Xander said with a half shrug. Spike's eyes faded back into blue and he chuckled softly. Willow was staring at him, obviously horrified that he was taunting the evil slightly desperate vampire when he was in such a position.

"Get on with it Red."

Willow looked from Spike to Xander and back again. She drew in a deep breath and held up a rose. She plucked one of the petals then, picking up a hairbrush, withdrew a long brown strand. She twined the strand around her finger, placed it in the center of the petal and folded it over. Her hand closed around it and she began to chant softly, too softly for Xander to hear.

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Spike had to admit that Red's little boy toy had knackers, which was admirable. Well…knackers and healthy amount of insanity. He had that glint in his eyes that Spike had only seen in the likes of Drusilla and Angelus after having his soul removed and, since that hadn't been the real Angelus, it didn't count. The glimmer that said they could see beyond what really was to the heart of things and that they understood things far beyond that of what most did.

Knowledge like that made people crazy. The Not-Angelus had it because he was neither soul nor true demon, but rather demon driven to the heights of madness by being locked away for a more than a few decades. Drusilla had it because of the sight and the way it reacted to her demon. This boy…well, it was hard to say.

Spike knew he was terribly under appreciated. He had the thrum of true power right underneath the surface of his skin and knew he was one of the driving forces behind the slayer. He was still growing but was obviously growing into something damn impressive. Wavy brown hair and big chocolate eyes, fully pouty lips, and courage in spades.

A real White Knight.

In appearance he reminded Spike somewhat of Drusilla, though less curvy and fond of black lace and frills obviously. Beautiful in a quirky off the beaten path kind of way. Darla and Slutty were the traditional beauties and the witch had a kind of innocent darkness to her, but the boy…he was all darkness and shadow and secrets, which only added to his attractiveness.

Were Spike not so dedicated to his Dark Plum he may have been interested in taking the boy away from the Hellmouth and seeing what he'd be like if turned into a Dark Knight. The boy's loyalty was unwavering; it's be nice to have someone like that in Spikes corner.

He was very tired of people leaving him.

Which was the point of this spell. When all was said and done he and Drusilla would truly be together forever, as it was meant to be.

"The soul of Drusilla, Childe of Angelus, Childe of Darla, moved through the ages, I call upon thee. Bind yourself to the soul of William, Childe of Drusilla, Childe of Angelus, from now until the world should end. I beseech the goddesses of Love and Destiny to make it so." Red's voice was soft, whispery and contained not a single trace of fear.

Spike wouldn't have thought she was a trembling mass a few moments ago. He could feel the magic flowing through her, changing her somewhat. She was a powerful one, obviously. It wouldn't do to cross her if he could help it.

Hopefully she wouldn't take this too personally.

Her eyes flashed a dull gray and Spike shivered, feeling as if a hand was reaching inside of him and yanking something out of him. He stumbled, gripping the edge of the table he had the boy strapped to, and struggled for air he didn't need as the world shifted under his feet.

He felt something else, like another hand, placing something warm and bright inside of him and, thought Spike was loath to admit such things, it felt nice. In a warm and fuzzy kind of way, which was not okay because he was the Big Bad and the Big Bad didn't do warm fuzzies.

The girl gasped, air rushing out of her in a rose colored puff of smoke. She slumped over onto her side, eyes drifting shut before she even hit the ground. Spike considered her for half a second before sliding his duster off and folding it up. He lifted her head up and placed the coat underneath, resolving to reclaim it later on.

He owed her after all and if he needed her witchy powers again someday she might appreciate the gesture. He shoved his hands into his jeans pocket and glanced over at the boy, who seemed to have passed out as well. Spike snorted. He hadn't hit the whelp that hard had he?

A quick sniff revealed no traces of blood and he didn't smell seriously hurt, though when Spike got close who could feel the tell-tale prickles of energy making the hairs on his arm stand up. The boy's best friend was a witch so magical traces were to be expected and Spike dismissed it.

Best he left the scene of his little crime before Slutty and Peaches showed up looking to kick his arse yet again. It wasn't fair, two against one like that. For two such good and moral figures they never seemed to give a damn about not playing dirty.

At least Angelus, the real Angelus, had a little honor about him. This souled version was just…damn annoying.

He had a room at the motel outside of town. He'd just wait for his Dark Princess to come to him, as she'd have to do now. After all, he had the power now and wouldn't do for him to go crawling to her this time around.

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Xander groaned softly, frowning at the way the stars talked frantically with a spotted animal and a man in fatigues. They were talking so loudly, chattering in his head in high-pitched yelps and each word was like someone stabbing him with…a pencil or something. Not overly painful, but still kind of painful.

A red mist swirled around the stars and they flickered for a moment then started speaking again, voices more high-pitched and more urgent. At least they all said the same thing now, which made it much easier to understand for him.

William.

Spike.

Master.

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