rngrdead (rngrdead) wrote in bloodclaim,

Never Time Enough # 13

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.
previous parts


Xander relaxed back against his partner. As usual his Master William had managed to wind himself around his Consort. Warmth and comfort… it had always been right – even in the very beginning … it was all about warmth and comfort.

They were in the ‘big bed’ – the mattress may have changed and the plush sheepskin undercover added a squishy luscious depth, but the view was the same. The evening had exhausted his dear vampire partner… in truth he worried. Despite the valiant show for the Crent’aths, Giles and the staff, Spike seemed so fragile, so… hurt… lost even… when they were alone together. It was as though the hundred years or so apart had all come crashing in and references to the Nazis and various snippets of the many hard times he *wasn’t* there for his William weighed heavily. If only… if only he hadn’t been pulled away!

Why would the Powers do that?! They *must* have known… William was never the average demon… If only he had been there! And the demon trials?! Who had picked him up and cared for him after that?! From all accounts… no one! He deserved so much more than noone – for all those years! And with Dru in tow… then denying her own Childe… after all those years of no family yet managing to keep his insane Sire safe!

Xander sent a prayer for his vampire to any deity that might listen… a healing request for his lover… his all, then wrapped himself around his partner more tightly, began to stroke the pale arm, and let tears fall… tears for his lover, one for every year they had been denied each other… then sobs of regret, endearments, requests for forgiveness, and love, always love.

Spike, (though he felt very much like William right now), woke to his Consort’s tears, to the innate connection and the love and regret. He was being stroked and loved… stroked and loved and… His demon and soul agreed, his fangs dropped and he rolled his lover over, legs were instantly open and the invitation taken.

He entered his Mate and bit down on the exposed neck at the same time. Xander sighed then bucked a little as his prostate was hit followed by the act being repeated. He too let small fangs drop and took back some of his Master vampire’s blood, instantly feeling the zing and the connection heightened. This was right, here in *their* rooms new memories mixed with wonderful old ones, and just as their blood and releases mixed, so did their tears Spike’s cool and Xander’s warm.

Eventually, Xander lowered his legs from their position wrapped around Spike’s back and felt Spike’s soft member slip from him as the both rolled to their sides to kiss and stroke each other gently.

“Do you know where you were, Pet?”

It was a question out of left field and threw Xander, “Wha???”

“For all those years pet… do you know where you were? While I was lookin’ for you… missin’ you! So much… I *needed* you?!… ”

“I don’t… not really… I mean… I wasn’t… I don’t know?! Wil… I didn’t mean… Oh Gh@#... I don’t know! I didn’t choose to… *Please* sweetheart! I didn’t want to go! Why would I…” Xander had ceased his stroking with the surprise of the question and for the umpteenth time since arriving back – but the first time in *their* space… he began to panic.

Where *had* he gone? Even if the timeline had changed… still… where was his essence for over a hundred years. It was a philosopher’s dilemma, a theologian’s nightmare, dimensional shift theoretical physicist’s fascination, and a follower of the dark arts’ dream. But right here, right now, none of that mattered… and all Xander could do was hug his upset vampire to him and hold on. What if it happened again?! If he didn’t know why in the first place… it was a possibility… wasn’t another shift plausible?! He began to scour his memories but felt the discomfort in his sleeping friend, his mate, so tried to focused on memories… the happy memories of this place.


It was late on a Friday evening. As usual the Crent’ath family were out – this time at a ‘family do’ though it was often the ballet or opera – and consequently the house was quiet. It had been almost a month since the Master and Darla ‘show’ but the fallout was still occurring – not least of which was the desperate need isolate themselves from the Aurelian ‘Court’ and to touch each other, to share blood, to affirm. The house was their sanctuary.

Xander woke to the gentle strokes of a cool hand as William traced his features and needlessly explored physical lines on his Consort that were now known as well his own. Xander rolled slowly, took the wandering hand and kissed it thoroughly – then its owner. William’s ensuing, “Oh my… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… but I just…” then game-face was all it took for another round of lovemaking.

In the afterglow, Xander stared at the ornate cornices on the ceiling whilst petting the long strawberry blonde locks of his dear Mated vampire.

Angelus was in the building, Darla returning to Prague with her Sire. It was a welcome relief for them all in a sense but did mean that Drusilla and Angel were spending a few days ‘with family’ before regrouping at the Aurelian house just off Hyde Park.

Xander now knew the ‘green’ of jealousy, the ‘red’ of anger, and the blue/black of true hate.

‘Kyldman House’ (as the estate had been officially renamed by William’s Grandsire in a fit of drunken whimsy after its procurement) was *their* home, and though Xander had learned that his vampire needed to reconnect with family on occasion, William spending time with his Sire and Grandsire without his Consort, and so soon after the Master’s abuse, was still hard to take.

Angelus had arrived for some ‘quiet time’ with Drusilla three days previously and William had been obliged to do the family thing when requested. Xander didn’t worry so much about Dru, indeed had several tea parties with her and her ever present dolls. The old Sunnydale part of him even came to wonder why he had been so fearful of her and so complacent when it came to the threat of Angelus… until he saw her feed.

Unlike her Sire Angelus, there was no playing, no evil games, no warning. Unlike her Child William there was no measured approach, and certainly no intent to do aught but kill. The minion had brought in the rather disheveled ‘lady of the night’ who, though still disorientated, saw her surroundings and decided to make the best of it, so began to ply her trade.

The obviously older, experienced street walker had time for a single hip wiggle in Xander’s direction, and a “Well… ‘Ow ‘s ya…” before Dru was at her neck and seconds later she was dead. After which Dru went back to playing with her dolls and ‘dancing in moon beams’ (though the moon was not out) as though nothing had happened. It was then that the Consort Xander suddenly understood. Drusilla’s cognition was so damaged that the demon was unfettered and free to work on pure instinct… hungry = eat. Simple, deadly, and he wondered again as to how or why she had turned rather than killed William.

But it was not the incident with Dru that bothered so much. It was Friday, Friday morning to be exact.

William had been ordered to spend time with his Grandsire during the last seven days and nights. They had left for destinations unknown on Friday evening so when Xander’s beloved arrived back home a week later to their private rooms, very drunk and with visible finger shaped bruises on his backside and torso, bite marks on his neck, and the unmistakable smell of his Grandsire’s spunk on him, Xander was ready to stake the bastard.

Seeing his Consort in a rage was the last thing William wanted to face, though suspected it was coming.

He had hoped Xander would understand the occasional need for reconnection – and for his Grandsire… especially now as Darla once more had shunned him in favor of visiting her darling Master, refusing to accompany him to the gathering (in civilized Canterbury!) of the clans from the length and breadth of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland.

William had not bothered to fill his Consort in as to why Angelus needed his presence. Clan gatherings often involved a good deal of bloodshed and although the Consort’s absence might be noted, William knew the cost to Xander would be dire were he to witness some of what went on. Apart from anything else, there was the summary execution of two vampires – both of whom had chosen to side with the Watcher’s Council and caused the demise of four Childer and one Master in under a month.

Their case had been heard fairly but the evidence was damning and of late, the Council better organized and more threatening than ever before, recruiting from the more ‘wayward’, highly educated witches. The two traitorous minions were ‘staked out’ on a St Andrew’s wooden crosses then forced to drink holy water until their screaming gave way to an agonizing dusting.

Once more Angelus had been forced to explain his own Sire’s absence, and justify the ongoing existence of his mad Childe (given rather unfortunate incident at a recent London party whereby Dru had, in her permanently puzzled state, quite innocently drained a very pretty human guest who were actually meant for the host’s after party play and snack).

As soon as Dru had been delivered back to her Sire and the two departed William fell into his consort’s arms with a combination of regret and plea for forgiveness, “Please forgive… but Grandsire… and he… he needed… was gentle and so sad… and I… I’m his Grandchilde Xan… and… we both needed… Oh Sweeth… So glad you stayed here, so glad… They wanted to dust my Sire! Oh Xan!!! I missed you…love you…*love* you… Grandsire knows that too… you know… how much I love… yeah?!… so *please* understand… He jusss… needed me and I wanted it too.”

It was Xander’s turn to go with instinct. He let his canines extend and bit hard over the still raw mark on William’s neck. The truth was in the blood - the adoration, the devotion, the vampire and the unmistakable essence that was his Mate, William, along with not a small amount of alcohol. And all anger and jealousy evaporated.

It would not be the first or the last time that William spent private time with Angelus – but it was a pivotal one, and Xander came to know that a ‘boys night out’ meant the Grandsire and his progeny hunting and playing together; that it might include a sexual element; that it was just about vampire family; and that he was safe – even from Angelus- in a strictly monogamous relationship of Consort, Mate and Master Vampire.

Josephine Crent’ath (Adrian’s grandmother) was an extraordinary woman… demon. She had lost her Neville to a stupid accident when cleaning his own gun at their hunting lodge shortly after the arrangement for one of their houses was finalized with the Aurelians. Josephine was *always* addressed as Lady Crent’ath or Ma’am – even by Angelus! William had the gracious semi bow and ‘Good Evening Lady Crent’ath’ ritual down pat and swiftly schooled his Consort to do the same. Lady Josephine was delighted with the refined manners of ‘her vampire boys’, and as a consequence the two were taken very much under her wing.

Like many demon families who could pass for human the wealthy Crent’aths were part of the general social scene of late nineteenth century Europe and Xander soon learned to follow William’s lead whenever visitors arrived. They always introduced Lady Josephine Crent’ath as the owner of the manor house and deferred to her on all matters domestic. Something that intrigued their demon guests (given that it was now an Aurelian household), fascinated any human ones (two such attractive young men being ‘looked after so’) and thrilled the lady concerned.

Xander had never been one for history at school, but found himself spending hours reading through various accounts of wars, dynasties and ‘classic’ books. Or better still listening as William (donning his glasses) read from Wordsworth, or Homer (in the original Greek), or Shakespeare – and who would have thought the boy from Sunnydale could come to love a selection of sonnets… or even *know* what pentameter meant!

His appreciation of music also improved. Lady Josephine’s compulsory dinner parties and inevitable amateur music recitals to follow became a regular part of their calendar, but equally they took to traveling to the Albert Hall for a show at least once a month.

After memories of the Master’s and the clan meeting faded, life seemed to even out for a while. William easily stepped into the young lord of the manor role, with a good deal of encouragement – and gratuitous advice from Lady Josephine. She was more than happy to introduce the handsome young ‘Master William and friend Alexander’ to a new circle of acquaintances – both human and demon (though for the latter Xander was more reverently referred to as the Consort of Master William).


Xander lay for a few moments more remembering lazy evenings, piano recitals, live readings and dinner parties before his cell phone toned in with a preset wakeup alarm. It was the twenty first century. Who knew how a century and a half (or so) ensouled vampire and his frenetic time traveling Consort might be received.

Tonight they would go to London and make a highly anticipated appearance at the annual ‘coming out’ solstice ball.

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