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Never Time Enough #11 (entire chap)

The whole of Part 11

Title: Never Time Enough
Author: Part 1 50ftqueenie… then rngrdead – Ch 2 and beyond
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Warnings/Squicks: M/M relations
Rating: NC-17 (or MA 15+ or R?) There is violence and sex and vampires, and boys.
Summary: Xander comes back from the past with a secret.
Note From 50ftqueenie: This can stand on its own as a ficlet, but honestly I know there's more to this story. Eventually I might revisit and do my own version….


PART 11

The two very handsome men wandered out of the ‘green’ door at Heathrow to be greeted by an older gent in a very thick tweed coat and scarf.

The greeting was done with a firm handshake for both then an almost predictable, “Right well… I trust your trip was satisfactory… Thank you for the call from New York, I had been a little concerned regards times.” Giles then pointed the way and Xander pushed the luggage trolley toward the sliding doors and out into a rather bleak evening of driving rain.

“My apologies… the weather seems to have had a bit of a turn for the worse.”

To which Spike winked at his Consort then replied, “What? You an’ your witchy lot not on top of orderin’ that sorta thing yet?” before rolling his eyes and adding, “Looks like we’re gonna just have ta’ stay in during the day Pet… What *will* we think to do???!!”

To which Giles swiftly tugged off his glasses and began to rub them furiously whilst trying desperately to remember which level he had parked on. “Yes… well… weather control is a little beyond the coven… I am surprised you’re not staying with us just while you get established again?”

Xander seemed happy to let his partner do the talking – besides which he was so close to laughing aloud after the next comment that he almost choked, “Oh come on Rupert?! All that estrogen, surprised you didn’t meet us with yer purple and green suffragette kit on.”

Giles all but threw his glasses back on and huffed rather resignedly, “Yes well every job does have a few drawbacks.”

“Was only kiddin’ mate, yer a right champion fer masculinity Ripper an’ boy and me here well thankful for the welcoming committee…” Spike then fell silent and shoved his hands further into the pockets of his leather duster as they entered the lift turned and, like their fellow travelers, stared at the door as they started to move.

Third floor and the conversation began again as Spike said rather gently, “ ‘Preciate the lift mate… You need directions? Red said a bunch of roads ’ve been changed since I was here last…”

Giles was more worried about which row the car was in, so rather distractedly mumbled, “I should be fine… I am well versed in the nicer parts of Surrey Spike…”

“Just didn’t want you goin’ on the cooks tour.”

A rather relieved Giles led them to the coven’s four wheel drive and as he piled their bags into the back, sighed, “I assure you Spike, Xander, there was no chance of that… now please! Let’s just leave, before I have to pay another half hour for parking in this dreadful place.”

In the end it was Spike who paid for the parking, there was no misdirection, and after the car pulled up in the rather grand driveway and the group alighted, it was Xander who ushered their old friend into a space the Mated Consort had not seen for… a few days… but Spike… for many decades.

The lights still used the same brass switch… in its time, state of the art. It revealed a rather grand, recently refurbished entrance hall, wide staircase and open doors to a sitting room with roaring fire.

Giles was rather taken aback by the opulence, Spike whispered under his breath, “Finally! Thank you Angelus” and Xander closed his eyes and remembered. The house had *always* been ‘their place’.
………………..


Angelus had arranged it… *finally*. Or strictly speaking was very over Darla’s vindictive behavior toward all her ‘offspring’ and the household generally.


After almost three months of torture at Darla’s hands William’s pleas were finally heard, Angelus conceded that his GrandeChilde and Consort should have a ‘safe house’, one with a basement properly equipped for when Dru was being… difficult, or the Matron of the Aurelian line wanted her Angelus to play with alone.

Later it might be argued that the house was actually earned as a reward from its previous owners by William the Bloody and Consort, rather than ‘given as gift’ by the GrandSire, but that was almost irrelevant – the fact that Angelus endorsed that the two (and sometimes his Childe) had a safe haven away from Darla was *everything*.

The earning had been oddly easy. Will was on the prowl and for ‘Darla reasons’ Xander was with him. She had decided that sending a Mated human to a multi demon clan annual ‘coming out party’ might be vaguely amusing – particularly as many demons didn’t hold the stupid boy’s status in such high esteem, and she might well be rid of him *and* the pathetic William at the same time. Angelus still seemed obsessed with the boy, despite her fine efforts at beating it out of all of them. Sometimes she really did kick herself for ever turning the roguish Irishman… but then he would be all crafty and killing and then fighting and f#@king... So really… who could resist!

Things had gone rather well, Angelus and Darla there for the first part. Dru was having one of her ‘moments’ so had been chained and gagged in the cellar with her collection of dolls around her for comfort, and two of their strongest minions ready to subdue her again should she escape. Rampage was one thing – but not in the middle of London in the summer social season! Even Darla drew the line at that.

The senior Aurelians had departed, Angelus having just made a rather lucrative deal with a Crent’ath demon family were wealthy – very wealthy – they dealt in diamonds and were quite enthralled by the Aurelian family’s European connections. They had the mines in South Africa and traded into England but Angelus had the contacts in Brussels, Madrid, Amsterdam and Paris, plus some in St Petersburg – though the Russians had their own mines.

Darla was bored by the ‘business talk’ and insisted they leave to go hunting the instant a handshake agreement was reached. It left William and Xander at the party alone – just as Darla had planned.

What she didn’t plan was the ruckus that erupted shortly after midnight, nor her disappointment of a great grand childe and his pathetic mated plaything ‘saving the day’ yet again. Their heroics this time involved the children of the Crent’aths, two pretty twin girls – who but for prehensile tails and slightly pointed ears, could pass for human – indeed did on most days in their father’s exclusive inner London landmark diamond shop. They were careful to coiffeur and couture appropriately, were elegant and well spoken, and at eighteen, considered ‘quite the catch’ in both demon and (oblivious) human circles.

When the fight broke out, fate had it that the girls were both dancing with Xander and William. The inner white night and gentleman (respectively) emerged and the young women/demons were ushered behind their dance partners.

Apparently the fight was directly related to their father’s trading with humans, and their terrified sobbing mother was being held fast by several vampires forced to watch while their dear father had the rear horn on his head (usually concealed under a hat) torn from its moorings before being kicked unconscious to the chant, “Human lover, human lover!” and “Trade with the warm bloods who kill us… traitor.”

When the mob turned to the girls with a “Oh look it’s the Aurelian whimp, GrandSire’s not around boy!” William whispered, “I’ll take the seven on the right, you take the four on the left and keep the girls safe. ‘s ain’t gonna be pretty.” Then he gave Xander the most excited feral grin and launched himself at the assailants.

The girls huddled down in a corner behind their two protectors and watched as Xander let his fangs drop and his training and fully Mated status kick in.

The ensuing skirmish was fast and furious. Xander pulling out his concealed knives with familiar ease and used them with deadly precision. William’s mouth was bloodied as he dropped his fourth victim then roared and launched himself at a fifth who was advancing on one of the twins.

The end result was dusty… and gooey… depending on the species and established the two Aurelians as outright victors – in more ways than one.

Evan Crent’ath’s horn was a permanent casualty but all other injuries healed in time, and on the night, Master Vampire William and Mate Xander had their Spanish reputations endorsed wholeheartedly by all witnessing the event.

Unbeknownst to any of the Aurelians at the time, the two girls had close to a million pounds in diamonds stitched into each of their corsets, a precaution if something happened to their parents. As a direct result of the safety of their daughters and the treasure, Evan and his wife were more than happy to negotiate a ‘reward’ and pact of understanding with Angelus (and William) post evening.

A pledge from the Crent’aths resulted in the promise of a two hundred year ‘free of encumbrances’ lease of one of their country homes so that William and his Consort might use and enjoy – and that the Crent’ath family might utilize the same in the balmy summers of southern England.

It was William’s first family home since Darla had insisted on selling his after the ‘demise’ of his mother (and annexing the profits of the same for the general Aurelian coffers!)

It had always been up to Angelus to create minions in the past, but as Will was now a ‘Master’ of his own household, with territory that was happily negotiated with the local vampire clan (who considered having the ‘Aurelians on the block’ a distinct advantage), he needed to establish his own group of minions.

Xander had never taken much notice of the process before, and to Angelus it was made very apparent that all were mere cannon fodder or whores for the using, but for his Mated Master the selection seemed far more discerning. They traveled half way across London to find an elderly cook Agnes Beckett– in ill health and merely a kitchen hand, cleaning and peeling vegetables for a gentleman’s club. She was too stunned to speak as William greeted her and turned her one evening, and Xander reaped the benefit. She had been William’s family’s cook – loyal to the end but when the Mistress died, there was nothing for her. Now she was devoted to the Master and his Mate, stepping up to the task with pride and dedication.

Various other members/minions of their small household were similarly carefully selected. Xander literally tripped over a young woman cradling a dead young child in a back alley as he and William made their way through the shadows to an early evening show in the West End.

William relieved the grief stricken vagabond of her putrid bundle then commissioned a carriage, turned her, and had her unconscious form delivered to their home with instructions that Mrs Beckett should clean her up.

Young and inexperienced as she was, Mavis Smith still proved an astute and tough manager of their household, feared by all the male minions – particularly Percy, a rather insipid chap that William had turned to become their downstairs footman. Percy had been a school ‘chum’ of William’s – or rather the weasel like bully that made William’s life a misery on a daily basis. William had never been more pleased to ‘find’ Percy in one of London’s better know brothels, enjoying the company of a larger gent that Will thought he recognized from the gentleman’s club. He knocked out the partner and turned Percy with a minimum of blood, the man’s true simpering nature perfect for the position of servitude.

Other roles were filled as needed. Body guard, cook’s assistant, laundry maid, driver. All were chosen carefully and none suffered other than when they earned punishment.

The home was (as a consequence) always immaculate, the garden lovingly tended and always full of bulbs, strawberries and raspberries for ‘the Master’ and jasmine that bloomed at night. Their life there was oddly… happy.

…………………..

The Aurelians and Crent’aths had always maintained the Surrey home – indeed, since Dru and William left Europe in the nineteen seventies, two of the Evan Crent’ath great grandsons (and family) had been in residence and in the last four months (with an injection of Aurelian funds) had done up the mansion to pristine condition, and added a number of new features including a refurbished garage, pretty glasshouse with roof that opened to the sky, and hot tub.

Footman/Doorman Percy had long been dust, instead it was Adrian Crent’ath who answered the door, and welcomed old friends home. Within seconds of walking into the entry hall, a buxom woman dressed in a smart chef’s uniform and a pretty woman dressed in a pristine suit as though a concierge in an expensive hotel flew into the room, skidding to a halt at the door and falling their knees. Then to Giles’ immense surprise, both bared their necks to “Master William, Consort Xander! Welcome… oh after all this time *welcome*… Please take of us!”

Spike bared his fangs and took what was his – after more than fifty years dear Ms Beckett sobbed and let all protocol fall away as she desperately grabbed for the Consort’s hand and whispered, “Oh Masters you are home! You’re home!”

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