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00 The Fool

Xander studied the Tarot handbook in awe:

A new phase, a new path, expanding horizons, beginning an adventure. Heading into the unknown.

It fitted perfectly.

Living in the moment, doing the unexpected, acting on impulse, feeling uninhibited. Surprising someone.

Fitted like a glove.

Accepting your choices, taking the 'foolish' path, taking a 'crazy' chance, trusting your heart's desire. Being true to yourself.

What's so wrong with being a Fool?

Trusting the flow, staying open, letting go of worry and fear, living in joy, recapturing innocence, believing.

Feeling protected and loved.

That's the best part of his new relationship... with Spike.



01 The Magician

The Magician was the last resort. He was expensive and dangerous and highly unstable. But worse, he was mischievous, often following the letter of the request instead of the intent.

So Spike was careful: spent days rewording, reworking, until he knew exactly what he was going to ask for. Because this time he couldn't screw up. This time he had to get it right.

Last time he'd wanted rid of the chip and he'd ended up with a soul. This time he was taking no chances. He had to claim the boy before his Sire arrived and stole him away.


02 The High Priestess

She'd known it, from the second he was conceived. She'd worked it out once, when Spike was out hunting and she'd sent one of the minions out for a perpetual calendar. Worked back from the day she'd first seen him, right back to the time of his birth, and then further, remembering the dreams of chocolate-colored kittens, of puppies who made her Spike smile and laugh and forget her. And she'd been afraid, for a little while, until the stars sang to her of another love, another country, and a White Knight who would save her Sweet William from himself.



03 The Empress

He didn't know why he'd kept the deck after Dru had ditched him.
He certainly couldn't read them like she could.
But he liked to look at them sometimes and see if he could identify people he knew.
This was one of his favorites, though it hurt to remember the hole she left in his heart.
Joyce had been like a mother to him, like a mother to all of them, and he missed her fiercely.
A key turned in the lock and Spike slid the card into his pocket.
This relationship was too new for shared pain.
"C'mere, Whelp."



04 The Emperor

Giles had seen it coming with all the inevitability of a train wreck, but he still hadn't been anywhere near ready for the night they turned up on his doorstep, waking him to hand him a bottle of his favorite single malt.

They wanted his blessing.

Oh, they'd made no secret of the fact that his disapproval wouldn't sway them from their path, but they respected him, they said, thought of him as the father figure of the group, and they wanted to do this right.

Spike respected him. Xander called him Dad.

The single malt was gone before breakfast.



05 The Hierophant

Willow wanted to know everything. Why? How? When? Where?
She picked over every detail, each response bringing new questions.
Xander answered as honestly as he could, certain this was her reaction to being on the outside of a best friend's secret.
Spike offered to fill in a questionnaire so she wouldn't have to take notes.
She studied rituals and ceremonies, traditions and ancient rites, and every path led back to the same beginning.
Until he was 'officially' bitten by his very own vampire, the local demon magnet was broadcasting come-eat-me vibes on every available frequency.
Spike needed his bite back.



06 The Lovers

They loved before they ever shared a touch not born of anger.
Each denied, for his own reason, the involvement of his heart.
Even when that touch grew gentle and evolved into caress,
Still they kept, each one, their silence; clutched their love unto their chest.
The stolen moments, hid from friend and foe alike, encouraged kinship,
Formed a bond, a union, no one else could put aside.
And then in battle, in a graveyard, just outside that crypt, there came
The outcry of an angry lover, "Touch my Pet again and die!"

Later, words of love, exchanged:
"Mine."
"Yours."



07 The Chariot

It had carried him, triumphant, into Sunnydale, his dark princess at his side.
And it had carried him out again, Slayer nipping at his heels, his princess unconscious on the seat beside him.
And down through Mexico, into Brazil, where she had spit in his face and cast him aside.
Then north, then south, then north again, still his chariot, a little worn around the edges but still his.
Until the Initiative got him and the cops impounded it then lost it.
And now his bright, determined, loving, boy had given it back to him.
Xander had found his Desoto!



08 Strength

Buffy was... stunned. The few seconds she stood there openmouthed gave them time to straighten clothing, refasten flies, and brace for the explosion.

"What? You... Spike? Xander?!"

Mr Pointy was waved about with a menacing air as she stood between them and the door.

"What the hell is going on here? Xander, what's wrong with you? Is it a spell? Did Willow mess up again?"

"No, Buffy, we're in love. Have been for a while, actually. It just never seemed the time to tell you."

And the strong one stands there, her anchor to the normal world gone... with Spike.



09 The Hermit

Cordelia always opens the office mail, which means she gets to read the invitation first.

To the Master of the House of Aurelius, a request:
William the Bloody, of the House of Aurelius,
Wishes to Claim the Most Treasured Gift as Consort,
With rites and ceremony as befits such an occasion,
To be performed, as tradition demands, by the Master of the House.

Cordelia is amused when Angel explains who, and what, and how. And then she starts planning her packing. Her hermit-like boss in robes, joining Spike and Xander in vampiric marriage, is something she just has to see.



10 The Wheel of Fortune

Xander had always known, in some bound, gagged and locked in a dark basement part of his mind, that he was maybe not totally 100 percent heterosexual. He'd hidden it well, denied it, chased every strong woman he met in the hopes that they would claim him and stop him from wandering down that other path. But the faster he ran after them, the less he wanted to catch them, and finally he'd decided to give the wheel of fortune a spin and see if it pointed him in a new direction.

Who knew it would point him at Spike?



11 Justice

Angel  - It was a trick, Xander; you don't really belong to Spike.
Spike  - He knows that, ponce.
Angel  - I just feel responsible. If I hadn't...
Spike  - Oh fer...
Xander - It was nothing you said, Angel, nothing you did. One day I looked at him and realised if I ignored the 'I hate him because he's a vampire' thing, I was already halfway in love with him.
Angel  - But if I hadn't... Dru...
Xander - He'd be dead and dust a hundred years ago, and I'd still be alone, or worse. So thank you, Angel.
Angel  - You're sure?
Spike  - Love...
Xander - Yes!



12 The Hanged Man

Hanging by one ankle, out of control, seemed appropriate, somehow, so Xander didn't bother struggling. He surrendered to the experience and watched from his new angle as the world moved around him.
Spike saw the largest Gra'ath grab Xander by the ankle and lift him high into the air. Fury added impetus to his battle rage and the vampire finished off his opponents in short order before moving to slice off the tentacle that held his mate aloft.
Before Xander hit the ground the Gra'ath that held him was dead.
"I told you, pet, not all demons respect the Claim."



13 Death

"I only wanted to watch, my Spike. I wasn't going to steal your kitten. Knew he was yours all along, I did, even when that silly love spell got in my head and whispered silly things about poems and eternity."

"I wanted to see you put your mark on him, Spike, and watch Daddy have a taste and say the words that make him ours."

"I gave you my gift in the alley and Daddy gave you his in the school. You let Daddy have a nip and I missed it. Can I have a nip, Spike? He is family..."



14 Temperance

The Claim did many things.

Insecurity and loneliness were dispelled. Balance and harmony were granted. They each became the others center of being.

With blood exchanged there came a synthesis, stronger over time, consolidating energies and vigor. What one thought, the other could hear. What one felt, the other could sense.

Extremes were blunted into moderation. The lust for violence now an urge to protect, the demon bait no longer required protection.

They worked together as a whole, where one was needed the other appeared. When one was loud, the other soothed.

Man and demon. Light and dark.

Love eternal.



15 The Devil

Obsession.
Never enough.
Always just one more taste before release.

Supple leather binds tight until the begging stops.
Chains attach to fur-lined cuffs attach to widespread limbs to keep the wriggling down.

Addiction.
Enslavement.
Submission, sweet and so sincere.

A smorgasbord laid out for his delight.
Cherry red lips, so ripe for biting.
Hard berries balanced on the breast.
A lollipop so hot it's melting, drizzling secret sauce to tempt the tongue.

An hour, two or three, no one could tell you.
No clocks in here, their perfect, private, world.
Then finally release.
Twin screams.
Recovery.

Next time's Spike's turn.



16 The Tower

The claim made changes subtle but disruptive, rocked foundations of three other worlds.

Habits of years past were hard to alter, but now a thoughtless threat of dust was taken by another to their heart. The Slayer had to learn that harm to one was harm to t'other, and neither would allow the other's hurt.

The Witch, though strong in magic, was no longer first in thought or word or deed. Another had usurped her prime position, within her very best friend's loving heart.

The Watcher must accept one sworn as enemy, into the confines of his family.

They accepted.



17 The Tower

Dawnie's faith had never wavered, not once, through the tentative beginnings, to the emotional outbursts to the need to claim and mark. Every step of the way she had been there, encouraging, pointing out the way when he was too scared to believe.

She was his north star, always aiming him true, keeping him on the path.

She had known he was ready to run, ready to abandon his love and flee to protect the boy from his inability to bite and claim and mark him as mate of a Master Vampire.

She had made him do what was necessary.



18 The Moon

Moonlight softened the harsh edges of his lover, and Xander silently decided that he could easily adjust to a permanent life of ethereal silver light. How troublesome could it be to give up the harsh gold glare of the day? He knew the time would come, and soon, most likely, when his love would want to keep him safe, eternally as young and virile. And not because attraction would have faded, for he'd been told, not only once, that love would still be his when old and jaded.

He gazed upon his moon-soaked love and uttered not a word.

Yet.



19 The Sun

The moonlight soaked into his soul, and Spike, cold hand ensnared by warm, did think again how he could ask his love to sacrifice his access to that golden ball that nurtured what was best in life. What could he offer in exchange for warmth on skin and beating heart and sun-kissed hair and that which caused the crinkles at the corners of his eyes?

What could he offer but a life eternal, barring pointy bits of wood, or fire, or contact with that sun which reigns supreme?

How could he offer darkness for eternity? He couldn't.

Not just yet.



20 Judgment

The question stood between them, never asked so never answered. And yet it caused a rift, it built a wall that all could see.

And finally, there came the day of judgment, and of reckoning, when blood and heart and heat and life faced up to death without decay.

Heart accepted, demon reveled, souls did struggle to comply, but finally there came a verdict, Xander very soon would die... to rise again, awaken to a brand new life eternal; but they both agreed that now was not the time.

And so they wait and watch and love and wait and...



21 The World

Eventually the time arrived for turning, with none left to fight it.
Xander aged, but just a little, Spike his same eternal self.
The claim had kept them both in good health, kept away most signs of time.
And grief had faded, for the most part; friends were feted now, not mourned.

The world did look so small and fragile, held within his true love's hand,
The ritual of restoration, laid out on the bedside stand.
Now the time was drawing near, he'd spent his last hours in the sun,
Fangs and feeding, blood and needing, new eternal life begun...