Warnings: Strong sexual language and M/M sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The Bee freely admits she owns none of the characters in this story
and makes no profit. I simply borrow them, then hose them down before returning
them to the shelf for others to use.
Summary: AU. This story is a follow-up to Carnivale Mystique.
At the ending of Carnivale, Willow vowed to spend her life looking for her lost
friend and that is just what she has done. Now, after nearly 40 years, she and
the carnival cross paths again. Can she finally get the answers she needs and
protect her granddaughter from falling victim to the special allure of the carnival?
During the telling of this story will be flashback chapters that tell how Spike
and Xander adjusted to their roles of master and pet.
Note: If you haven't read Carnivale Mystique or have forgotten the story,
there is a prologue that contains a brief summary of the story. Use the tags
at the top of the page to find your way there.
Thanks and credit to silk_labyrinth for betaing the spelling, punctuation and
finding wandering boo boos.
As always, thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for the banners that put the perfect
visual to my words and for her faithful friendship.
Year three - The worm turns
Xander stood outside their shared tent and he gazed all around him. It was
all so different, yet really the same. The sun was just cresting over the
small hilltops and lighting the world around him. Last night had been opening
night for the Carnivale Mystique in this strange place and although Spike had
told him what to expect, it had been so much more.
Xander was no fool. He knew why they were here. The last couple years
had been difficult ones for both the vampire and his new pet. When they first
left Sunnydale, Xander was overwhelmed with excitement. New places, new
sights, sounds and finally, a real place for himself in this world. Vampire's Pet.
In theory, it was wonderful. Loved, in Spike's own way, protected, from what
he was never really sure, and, because of the blood bond, understood. Or
so he thought. But things were not going well. There were always so many
rules to remember and adhere to.
Speak when spoken to. Always walk a step behind. Be prepared to service
the Master whenever he wants. Never leave the tent during the day. Never
talk about life before the blood bond. And, stay away from Peaches.
At first it was fun. Then it got annoying, especially since Spike himself seemed
to have no restrictions on him. At night after the carnival shut down, the
vampires who worked the circuit would slip out and into the local towns to
feed, fight and fuck. Spike included. Xander understood about the fighting
and feeding but the fucking was a constant bone of contention between them.
He would sit alone in the tent till, sometime before dawn, Spike would stumble
in, flushed pink with stolen blood and smelling of the cunts or asses of anonymous
partners, some willing, some not. Either way, it cut through Xander like a knife.
And being Xander Harris, he would have to speak on it.
The ensuing arguments were repetitious. Xander would get angry. He would
yell and scream or worse, he would pout. He would harangue Spike with complaints
that he considered the vampire's actions to be adulterous, hurtful and disrespectful.
Spike, in turn would respond in various way depending on his level of intoxication.
If fairly sober, he would reiterate their positions of pet and master. He would
attempt to explain that the bodies he had just fucked and drained meant nothing.
That it was like a Twinkie. Sure he could just suck the cream filling out of the
center but why not eat the cake too? Xander had no rebuttal for that one.
If Spike were drunk enough that logic was not an option, he went for force. He
matched shout for shout and together they would trash their tent, usually
ending up with Spike giving Xander a sound spanking and a good fucking. This
was the resolution they both preferred even if the rest of the carnival workers
resented being woken from a sound sleep to listen.
Still, it was a situation that he knew he would never be able to compromise on.
Xander decided it was time to renegotiate his contract.
That's when the human decided to stop fuming during the long nights alone and
use the time more constructively. It was time to design a plan. Something
that would speak volumes and say what all his words had not. He needed it to
be drastic and leave no question in Spike's mind that although he was happy to
be the vampire's property, he was still Xander Harris.
He was fairly certain that since they were bound by the bite and the blood bond,
Spike would not simply toss him away and they had both agreed early on that
turning him was not something they would decide until circumstances dictated
it as a necessity. For now, they both liked him the way he was.
He was methodical. He took his time and considered the options and the
desired resolution carefully before coming to the decision of what to do.
When the what was established, he carefully went about organizing the how.
He used the hours between the closing of the carnival and the rising of the sun
to make arrangement with people who he felt could help him. With no money
of his own, Xander used barter to get what he needed. He took over two
days' physical exertion in the repair shop in exchange for Bruno loaning him
a large metal file and a small steel ring.
He then built a tall oak book shelf for Moonbeam, the carnival's resident
witch. He spent weeks on it, perfecting the elegantly carved top that
held a moon and stars ingrained in deep rolling scrolls. Spike himself
often admired the work as it progressed and complimented the boy on
his skill and generosity. Xander would just smile.
When it was finally complete, he rubbed it down with linseed oil till it
shone with the rich,deep glow of quality furniture and he delivered it
to her trailer along with the file and the ring. Moonbeam was more than
satisfied. She lavished praise on the beauty of the shelves and the talent
of its creator. She then held up her end of the bargain and returned the
tools with her promise of silence.
Xander hurried back to their tent to wait. It was the last day of the carnival's
run and time to move on. As usual, the town had tired of them and grown
fearful of the coincidence of the tragedies that befell them and how it ran
parallel to the arrival of the Carnivale Mystique. The townsfolk were not
medieval peasants, but they knew trouble when they saw it and the carnival
needed to go.
Xander also knew from past runs that the last night before they magically
moved in the light of dawn was the night of rampage. The vampires
would toss caution to the wind and pillage the townsfolk, glutting themselves
on the blood of the innocent, stealing possessions and ravaging the bodies
in any sexual manner of deviance they could conceive.
It was the night Xander had been waiting on.
It was midnight. The witching hour. The time when the twinkling lights
that circled the field of the carnival were shut off for the last time. The
human carnies were assigned the task of breaking things down and quickly
loading them into the trailers and cars for transport and knew they would pay
with their lives if they were not finished when sun crested the horizon. By
now, all they wanted was to be left behind when the carnival moved on.
Spike hustled around the tent, dressing and smoothing his hair back with
a handful of witch hazel that he thought smelled enticing. He hummed
happily as he tied the laces of his boots and paused only when he tossed
back the flap of their tent.
"Going out, Pet. Make sure all of our things are ready for transport.
I have a feeling that we will be moving in haste. You know how
wild the boys get on their last night in town."
Xander smiled sweetly. If Spike was expecting protest, complaints or
a pet that begged his master not to go, he was disappointed. He got nothing
but a sweet kiss on the lips and a wave goodbye. For the vampire, it was
confirmation that his dominance was finally earning the respect it deserved.
"No problem, Spike. Have fun. Eat a fatty for me."
Xander quickly began boxing and stacking their meager property. He still
didn't understand the mechanics of mystical transport but when the fog lifted
they were plopped down in a new location and anything not anchored down
was tossed about like a fishing boat in a typhoon. When all that was done,
he sat down to wait.
Right on schedule and barely beating the sun, Spike staggered in. He was
drunk as a skunk and smelled like he had fucked one. The pink glow of his
cheeks indicated he had glutted himself and his annoying smirk nearly
caused Xander to leap to his feet and scream his repetitious complaints.
But not this time. This time he simply smiled and helped his master into bed.
Within seconds, Spike was passed out and, forgetting he was a vampire, snoring
loudly. Calmly, Xander walked over and picked up the huge cast iron skillet
and applied it liberally to the back of Spike's head
It left a very satisfying dent that, although it would heal, would cause a
memorable headache. Then, certain the vampire was out cold, Xander
skittered around, whistling a happy tune and collecting his file and steel ring.
Two days later, when Spike finally rose, the carnival was already up and running
in a new town. His head was pounding and his brain was fuzzy. Slowly
he pulled himself up to a sitting position as his hand rubbed the repaired
damage on the back of his skull.
"Holy thit. That musth have been a hell of..........MY FANGTH! WHAT HAPPENED
TO MY FANGTH? The tipth of my fa...........MY COCK!!!!!!! Get thith fuckin'
thing off my cock!!!!!"
Xander sat calmly on the overturned orange crate that was their stool, and
he sucked his teeth and checked his fingernails as Spike went through the
expected hysterics. When the yellow eyes finally snapped up in his direction,
Xander knew Spike had put two and two together.
"That's right, O Master of mine, your pet has slipped the fucking leash.
Now, first up, the cock ring is time stamped. Peaches said it would
take about a week for a vampire's fangs to grow back and, no, I didn't tell
him why I was interested. So in a week, the ring will fall off. Not before.
See, here's the thing, Spike. I get the bite and blood sucking thing, but from
now on, it will be strictly platonic. No more butt fucking except mine; oh,
and sometimes I think I would like to go along. You know, a beer with the
boys while you kill in the alley. I'm tired of sitting home. You never take
Spike jumped to his feet before a case of the woozies set him back down.
"Now thee here! I'm the Mathter! I make the rulth?!
Xander shrugged as though it were nothing to him.
"OK. Just remember Spike. You have to sleep sometime."
After that night, the scales of their relationship tipped up slightly. Spike and
the residents of the carnival gained a new respect for the vampire's pet and
things between them began a slow journey toward equality.