2003

--2003--

They'd pretty much given up on the idea of ever getting home and been forced to make new lives for themselves, though they were pretty much living under the radar.

Sometimes Xander wished he had the hacking skills of Willow so he could have made up legal identities for themselves, but he didn't, so they just had to make do. Fake social security cards, IDs bought in a dirty flophouse during their single trip to Vegas, and the fear of being found out at any moment.

He should have been miserable. He should have been wishing for home and his old life with every breath. He should have dreaded discovery at every turn and driven himself crazy with all the secrets and lies. But he was none of those things.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he was happy.

They had a studio apartment in the Blood District only a few blocks from where they worked at Guilty Pleasures. It really wasn't much when they first moved in, but they'd done a hell of a job turning it into something they could both live with. And there were only a few shouted arguments about Spike's insistence on old 70's punk rock posters and his habit of leaving dirty laundry and cigarette ash everywhere.

They had made a home for themselves in this new world and it was kind of nice not to have to go out fighting evil every night. It was nicer that no one had any preconceived notions about them so aside from a few bigots, there was no one to know why it was so weird for them to be lovers.

Sometimes Xander felt as though his old life was just a dream he'd once had and that they'd been here their whole lives.

Stretching on the blood red cotton sheets, Xander yawned hugely and finally forced himself out of bed. It was time for him to start his day, or rather, his night. He had to be at work in a couple of hours and he still needed to shower and shave and...

"Oy, pet, what do you think of this outfit for tonight?" the vampire asked, backing out of the closet with a bunch of leather straps hanging from his hands.

Xander smiled at Spike, fighting down the urge to laugh like an idiot. "I think you're going to get arrested if you ever let yourself think that that's an outfit."

Spike frowned thoughtfully, then tossed it back over his shoulder into the closet before swooping down on Xander for his "morning snog."

Xander half-heartedly tried to fight him off with protests about not having brushed his teeth yet, but he really wasn't trying that hard.

He knew that this kind of happiness never lasted, but he planned on holding onto it for as long as he could.

"Fuck me," he whispered.

"All right, luv. Whatever you want."

.

They were nearly late to work, but by the stupid grins on their faces no one accepted their story of car trouble. Especially since they didn't have a car.

Slipping on his gold vest and his short black apron, Xander brushed a hand through his hair and tried to put himself in a work state of mind.
"So, Xan-man, did you have a good night?"

Xander rolled his eyes at Jason, which only made the other man giggle harder. "Come on, I don't ask you about any of your wild nights. I mean, I've seen you come limping in after some pretty crazy weekends, and I'm just some guy in a monogamous relationship so..."

Jason's smile momentarily dipped, then came on stronger than ever. "Hey, some of those wild nights... not as fun as you might think. But you... you and Spike have that whole devoted love thing going for you. And you're always so cheerful, so he must be doing something right for you."

Xander shrugged. "I know it's probably not going to last forever, but it's been great so far."

Jason frowned a little. "What, you think he's going to break up with you or something?"

Xander shook his head. "Nah, Spike's always been what he calls 'love's bitch.' He's almost stupidly devoted, you know? But stuff... well, stuff has a way of happening and life always gets in the way of the happy, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess. But you shouldn't talk about bad things happening. You don't want to jinx yourself, you know?"

"I'll try not to," Xander said, but he had the nagging sense that their two years of happiness were about to be disrupted, and as much as he hated it, there was nothing he could do to stop the future from coming.

.

Nathaniel was in the middle of his set when it happened. A crushing wave of power that passed through the entire club and left the normal humans slumping unconscious in their seats.

There was a shatter of glass and Xander blinked at the suddenness of liquor soaking into his pant legs. He swayed a little, but didn't fall. It had felt for a second as though he was about to be pulled under, but it didn't last past the point of him dropping the bottle.

The doors to the club slammed open in a hurricane force wind and every light in the place flickered then went out. Someone screamed. Someone always screamed.

Without really thinking about it, Xander backed up into a corner, kind of tucking himself half behind a shelf of bottles. He could see out, but unless someone knew right where he was, he could be just another shadow.

There was a sudden glowing blue light in the doorway and a group of men and women stalked in as though they owned the place, practically pulsating with a dark and terrible power.

There was a low grinding sound, and the generators finally kicked in. The lights came back on.

The bad guys--'cause what else could they be?--looked like they'd stepped out of a Victorian portrait, all dark velvet and curling lace. Two men and two women and just looking at them made Xander's mouth go dry and his heart thud hard in his chest.

"Oh shit..."

"All right, people, this is how it's going to work. You're going to be quiet and well behaved and you're going to live out the rest of the night. Push us and..." Angelus reached out and grabbed the limp body of a woman out of her chair and cradled her against his chest. He stroked her sleeping face once, then without a single change of expression and a loud CRACK! broke her neck before dropping her to the floor. "Any questions?"

"What... what do you want?" Willie asked, stepping forward. He knew he wasn't strong enough to take on the monsters that had just walked in the door, but his responsibilities had him asking the questions.

Angelus smiled. "That's easy. I want you to call your Master and his whore and have them come here. By the Order of Aurelius, the actions of Jean-Claude, Master of St. Louis are to be called into question."

Drusilla giggled suddenly, leaning her forehead against Darla's shoulders. "Look, Grandmummy, they're all so scared."

"Yes they are, sweetling, and rightfully so," Darla said. "Why don't you take Dru here and find her someplace nice to rest... William?"

"Certainly." And despite the cultured tones in that voice, despite the hair being its natural golden blond, despite the layers of cloth draping him and the unfamiliar coldness about him, there was no way Xander could mistake that figure for anyone else than Spike.
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