"So I'm just supposed to forget you shoving me around and threatening me and--and licking me."

Spike grinned. "I won't be hurt if you don't want to forget."

"You do know I'm just going to go out there and tell everybody that the chip is gone, don't you?" Xander knew there was some plot going on, but be damned if he could see it.

Spike sighed. "True. Which means it'll be open season on Spike after all." He leaned closer, till his nose almost touched Xander's. "Guess I've got no reason not to play with you after all," he purred.

Xander couldn't help swallowing hard. Especially when Spike ran a lazy finger down his throat to his collarbone. The cold touch burned. "Let me go, Spike."

"Why?"

And nothing came to mind. No reason whatsoever why the unchipped vampire with nearly two years of grudges should let him live. Xander laughed briefly. "I've got nothing. Damn," he sighed. "I would have liked to say good-bye to Anya."

Spike stared at him. "That's it? That's all the fight I'm going to get out of you? You may be a pathetic loser, but I thought there was more spunk in you than that." He threw his hands up and stepped away. "I don't think I want you any more."

Xander didn't think for a moment that Spike meant it. He wasn't about to ignore the opening, though. "Then I guess I'll go home."

He actually got to the door before a leather-clad arm reached over his shoulder to hold the mausoleum doors closed. "I don't remember saying you could leave," said the soft voice in his ear.

Xander turned, and this time he didn't care that he was nose to nose with a smiling vampire who liked to play with his victims. "You're either going to let me go or you're going to kill me. I can't beat you, not in a serious fight, and me trying just gives you a happy. So let's just cut to the chase here, Spike. Make up your mind and stop fucking with me."

The smile was lewd. "I have not yet begun to fuck with you, Xander. Though I'd like to."

"No. Way. Kill me or walk away. Decide, right now."

Spike ran a connoisseur's eye along Xander's neck, then shrugged and took a step back. "Killing you fast would just be no fun. So I guess you win."

Xander didn't believe a word of it, but his escape route was clear. Spike held his hands up and took another step away. Xander put a hand on the latch of the door.

"I always did like the way Red screams."

Xander went still.

"The way she struggled and squirmed when I found her in the dorm that night . . ." Spike chuckled. "Her girlfriend's rather nibblesome, too. Be easy to lure Red in if the lovely Tara was help--"

Xander grabbed the lapels of Spike's duster and slammed the vampire against the wall. "You take one step towards Willow, and I'll--"

Spike grinned at him. "You'll what?" He took hold of Xander's wrist and began to squeeze. Xander tried to pull away, and Spike easily pulled him in close. "There's what I like to see. Thinking of me and Red, that gets your blood going, gets that fire burning in your eyes. I don't want you all accepting of your fate, I want you snarling at me."

"You have no idea," Xander growled, staring him in the eyes. "No more shit, Spike. What's going to happen here?"

Spike relaxed and eased his grip on Xander's wrist. Xander tried to yank free, but Spike didn't let him get away. "I'm not going to kill you, Xander, but it's got nothing to do with being worried about the Slayer. It's got everything to do with not causing any distractions while the hellbitch is out there."

"So if Glory weren't around ..."

The fangs appeared in a gnarled grin. Cat-yellow eyes gleamed in anticipation. "If Glory weren't around, Demon Girl would be calling around in the morning to find out why you didn't come home."

If anything, Xander felt calmer having it stated flat out. "And when we finish Glory?"

Spike ran his tongue along his fangs. "Watch your back."

Xander nodded. "I'm not surprised. But what's stopping you, really? If I hadn't seen you tonight, I'd have no idea you'd gotten the chip out--and how did you do that, anyway?"

"Oh, please, as if I'd tell you. I told you the truth. Glory comes first. We finish her first. And you can't tell the Slayer about the chip."

"Why the hell not? I'm not going to let you wander around everyone with no leash on." He saw Spike's grin. "That night at the shop. Were you ..."

"Amusing myself with picturing the looks on everybody's faces if I grabbed someone for a late night snack? Yep."

"My god, you and--and Giles together could ..."

"Call him Ripper, it's easier on the psyche." His expression became serious. "But we didn't try anything, did we? I've got Ripper convinced--for now anyway--to work with your bunch to settle this. But if you go tell the Slayer about the chip, she's going to get distracted at the wrong time. You're going to need me helping keep an eye on Joyce and the Niblet. You think that's going to happen if Slayer knows I'm back in the game?"

"Not in the slightest." Xander looked at the hand wrapped around his wrist. The long fingers didn't go completely around, but Spike wasn't even trying hard to hold on. "Let me go."

Spike thought a moment, then let go. Xander took a step back and rubbed his wrist, trying to erase the sensory memory of those cold, strong fingers. "So what we're looking at here is a deal. I don't tell anybody about the chip and you don't kill me--right now. Until we get Glory settled."

"That about sums it up. And I keep an eye on Joyce and Dawn while making sure Ripper doesn't get creative again."

"Deals with the devil."

"Better the devil you know than the devil who wants to rip the world a new one."

Xander thought for several moments, weighing honor and practicality. "Co

Xander thought for several moments, weighing honor and practicality. "Could Giles really have done it? Given Dawn to some creature in another dimension?"

"Yes. He hasn't told you the half of what he can do. He's not learning new things, he's just getting back into practice. Him and that chaos mate of his must have gotten up to a lot of mischief together."

"I'm not used to being nervous about Giles."

"Don't you worry about him, I've got him under my eye. I don't work the mojo, but I know what I'm seeing."

"So you watch Joyce and Dawn and Giles, and I don't sic Buffy on you."

"That's it. You watch everybody else. We get Glory tidied out of the way, then we can pick up where we left off."

Xander didn't flinch from Spike's leer. "Right, we pick up at the point that says there are no good vampires, and the Slayer's job is to kill them."

"Just like the good old days. You try to kill me, and I don't have to pretend to be part of your little gang."

Xander smiled. "Try to kill each other whenever we see each other, just like God intended. That'll be nice."

Suddenly Spike was behind him again, arm around his shoulders holding him tight against the chilly body. "And you'll have time to work on those reflexes," he whispered in Xander's ear. "You don't want to make it easy for me." A fang nicked his ear and cold lips nibbled on the wound. "You do taste good, Xander Harris. You'll give me a good run when it's time."

Then Xander was alone, with the bronze doors of the mausoleum clicking closed. Shaking, Xander reached up to his ear, then looked at the blood on his fingers. He sat down on the sarcophagus near the wall, apologizing absently to the occupant. He was going to need a few minutes before he could risk seeing anyone.

"Xander Harris, idiot or brave man?" he muttered. "Find out on the next episode of All My Vampires."

The latest chapter plus To Every Maze A Map are posted on my website [link]

t feedback whore babble, ignore at leisure 2250 hits on the fic page, Steam's got over 500 hits, the new chapters already have over 20 hits. You like me, you really like me. t we now return you to your regularly scheduled fic

Connie, I love it! And that's excellent news about the hits things. I'm glowy for you, okay?

Someone emailed me asking if I'd considered setting up a mailing list for updates. Aside from the sheer mind-bogglingness of prople asking me to tell them when there's something new (and the cognitive dissonance of announcing and expecting people to come running vs. sneaking it out into view and hoping people don't turn up their noses), how does one set up such a thing? Would I just ask for email addresses and set up a group?

Use YahooGroups. It's all free, and stuff.

What, set up a group, then tell people to subscribe? Then send email to the group? I am a babe in the woods at this point.

Gods, my own group. I keep hearing the Furies chortling at the very concept. Never mind me, tis only my own insecurities nattering.

You just set up the mailing list, and then a lot of people have a link to the yahoo group, with the link saying something like "Join our/my/the update list".

I think that's what I've got up.

[link] if anyone's interested. Lord, this is tromping hard on my insecurities. It's one thing to tell your friends (Hi, guys!) it's another to hang up fliers all over the place and hope someone calls.

Ah, the joy of the 41-year-old woman finally addressing her issues of self-worth.

We get to do Firefly shit here, right?

'Cause, wow, not sure what happened, but I was ambushed by a bunny, and now I'm writing Firefly fic, I just did 770 words. Which is a LOT since apparently a demon sucked out my writing ability over the summer-- this is the most I've written in months & months.

I have plans for two more sections.

You'll *maybe* be able to get a little bit more out of this if you've read the script for the pilot; but I wouldn't describe it as spoilery for those who haven't. It doesn't give you any information you didn't get from Train Job.

I. TITLECAKES

The girl walked along the wide cement sidewalk, staring at the sky. Her family had landed here at night, but the sky was domed low with clouds, and it reflected back the various lights of the city until the clouds were a dull, unnatural pink-purple. They blanketed the city in a strange suspended state of half-day. So different from her own world! She couldn't stop staring at the natives, stepping across the vast pavement in their various uniforms with their heads down and shoulders pitched forward. The air was cold.

This is the central Alliance planet, her father had said. A lot of important business takes place here. I never would have brought a child to it....

The wind tugged at her hair and blew inside the loose flaps of her jacket. But the girl didn't reach to close it: she liked the wind's cool fingers against her neck. The formal gown she was wearing underneath her jacket was already hot and itchy.

Up ahead even Simon was hunching into his own jacket, and their mother hurried forward wrapped in her swathe of fur and fabric.

Hothouse flower. River smiled. That was archaic, English. Hothouses mean brothels now, and the sudden image of her mother dumped, in all her satin and brocade, into a whorehouse, was just startling enough to be funny. She laughed aloud, and Simon turned around.

"River? C'mon, we're already late for your assembly." He held a hand out to her, in perfect big-brotherly fashion, and River normally would have rolled her eyes at him trying to act all grown up, only nineteen years old and already with a head as big as their father's. But today she just skipped ahead, skirt of her dress rustling, and took his hand. She could feel the beginning of another grin welling up from somewhere warm in her chest.

The Academy. It was so important, enough to be secret-- she'd never heard of it before they'd gotten the letter. For a moment her family'd thought it had been the Companion Academy's recruiting brochure, flickering in the electromailbox one morning, and wow, hadn't that been a kerfluffle. Her mother had gone bright red, and shouted at River's father at the top of her lungs; Jenna, River's littlemother, had had to shoo the other house servants out of the kitchen in the middle of cleaning up breakfast.

But no, it wasn't the whore school, it was something different. New academy, formed by the Alliance, collecting together all the cleverest minds in the galaxies for training and study. To make you the best citizen you could be for the Alliance. That was basically the idea, her father had told her.

And they'd picked her as a charter member.

Her mother had stopped and was motioning her toward the steps of an imposingly tall stone building. She was far away enough that the wind whipped the words away, but River could see her mouth forming the words, Hurry up! It was true, they were late for the first-ever assembly, and it was River's fault. When she'd found out, half an hour before departure, that Jenna wouldn't even be allowed to accompany them on the ship ride over, River had thrown a wailing fit and banged her head against the wall of the music room until Jenna had scurried in, crying herself, like she did whenever River was hurt. In between sobs she cradled River and told her that fourteen was almost too old to have a littlemother, anyway. Simon's littlemother, Rekba, had left when he was fifteen and a half, and Simon only cried for a night, hadn't he? River would have to be grown-up now. She was going away to school, and the girls there wouldn't have all had littlemothers, they were from all over the galaxy, where things were different. River would have to be strong. She had to not cry, so the girls wouldn't think she was scared.

So she was. When she got on the ship she was River Tam, in a fancy dress to show she was rich, and all of her medical records to show she was healthy, and dry eyes to show she wasn't afraid. The pilot gave one last scowl because a fourteen-year-old's tantrum had put them off schedule, and then they lifted off from the ground and exited orbit, into the gravityless space River had never been in before. She got lighter and lighter until she didn't weigh anything at all, officially. And after a few minutes the weight lifted off her chest, too, and the smile stretched itself back onto her face.