Title: A Matter of Claiming
Author: Kay
Email: kaygrr@hotmail.com
Feedback: Do you really want to see me beg?  My happy dance is way more
entertaining. Website:  ssfdu.tripod.com/kay/journal.htm  (Sandy rocks)
Archive: Hey, just ask first <g> Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel
Pairing: Xander/Spike/Doyle/Angel Rating: NC-17 Sequel:  Matter of
Control, Matter of Confrontation Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and
the characters of the show don't belong to me in anyway whatsoever. Mutant
Enemy, I live in envy of you.  This story is written for enjoyment, not
for profit.  This whore only works for feedback.  Litigation would be a
waste of time, people. I'm a member of the Starving Student Sect.
_Summery:  shortly after the Scooby Gang leaves LA, Xander's lovers
realize that there is something that still has to be done, another step to
be taken. Warnings:  spoilers in general for the first season of Angel,
and the last season of Buffy, and for the characters' general situations
in them.  Other than that, I'm not really going by canon, so who knows
what will happen?

All right.  I refuse to take any responsibility for this one.  Sandy is
the one who came up with the idea, and Karen had absolutely no restraint
when it came to adding her own hundred dollars' worth.  (What, you though
I was going to say two cents' worth?  Obviously you've never heard her go
on about Doyle).

There is no redeeming value to this part, just unrepentant sex.  Just the
way I like it <eg>.  Don't look for major plot points or character
developments here...just sit back and enjoy the ride.

Part One/Two

"I can't concentrate when you do that."  Xander's voice was mildly 
exasperated.

Spike grinned as he laved Xander's neck with slower strokes of his tongue.
 He inched his hand further down Xander's flank, seeking the warm swell of
buttocks that pressed so deliciously into his groin as he lay spooned up
behind Xander on the couch.

A rolled up newspaper slapped down on his temple, distracting him from his
seduction.  "Hey!"

Doyle crossed his arms over his chest, waving the newspaper menacingly. 
"Knock it off.  He's studying."

Spike turned his face into Xander's neck, but he kept his tongue to
himself. 
  He hadn't been completely serious in his actions; it was just so hard to
  
resist when he had his lover's body in his arms, when he could feel him
breath, hear his heart beat steadily.  He knew Xander's studies were
important, so he restrained himself and went back to holding the other man
while Xander read a text book.

Lulled by the feel of his lover's weight against him and the scent of him
pressing so close, it took Spike some time to notice that his hands were
being played with.  He raised his head and watched as Xander played with
his fingers.  He was torn between amusement and irritation as Xander began
to chip away at the already-chipped black polish on his nails.  He settled
back down, burying his face in the warm neck before him.  He needed to
redo the job, anyway.

Time drifted as he dozed behind Xander.  He really didn't become aware of
anything else but Xander until he heard Angel's voice.  He looked up as
his Sire came over to the couch.  "How'd the hunting go?"

"Boring."  Doyle's vision had been of a group of Klendari demons. 
Annoying little buggers, but open to persuasion, usually.  "I gave them
the pack of lighters and they agreed to move on."  The tall man sat on the
arm of Doyle's chair, one hand drifting down to trace his fingers over the
nape of the Irishman's neck.  "Since I finished early, I was thinking that
we might go out, maybe go to a club."

Spike frowned as he heard Xander's heart rate increase.  "I've got a lot
of reading to do," the brown-eyed man said quietly.  "Can we do it another
night?"

"Sure," Angel said with a smile.  "I'm sure I can find some way to occupy
myself."  He slid his hand down Doyle's back in a possessive glide.

Spike held his peace, but he was thinking furiously.  Usually Xander
jumped at the chance to go out with his lovers, especially if Angel was
going.  Xander and Doyle both worried about Angel staying in too much,
working too much, brooding too much.  To avoid it, they usually tried
getting him to go out in order to distract him.  Spike still favored the
irritation method, but the going out method had its good points, too.

So why was Xander suddenly avoiding going out?  What was making him
nervous? 
  Pulling Xander closer, Spike resolved to find out what was bothering his
  
lover.

*****

Doyle shook his head.  "Maybe he just wanted to finish his reading.  He
takes studying seriously."

"I know that, but this was different.  You didn't hear his heart - it
started going a mile a minute.  He was lying.  The thought of going out
upset him, and I want to know why."  Spike paced from one end of the
office to the other.

Doyle sighed and perched on the corner of Cordy's desk.  Spike could be
absurdly over-protective when it came to Xander, but the blond man sounded
serious.  Doyle had to admit that he'd been a little surprised by Xander
turning down Angel's suggestion.  Usually the younger man was eager to go
out, especially if dancing was involved.  Sure, Xander was committed to
his schoolwork, but going out last night wouldn't have hurt anything.  "If
you're right, then we can't just ask him what's wrong.  He doesn't want us
to know."

"Bet I can get him to talk," Spike muttered.

Not liking the way the vampire's hands were clenching into fists, Doyle
crossed the room and stood in front of him.  He didn't want Spike to get
too worked up over this.  "Look, I don't like the idea of Xander hiding
something from us either, but we can't push him."  He smiled a little as
he managed to catch Spike's eyes.  "I think he could out-stubborn you.  We
want to fix this, not make it worse."  He reached up a hand and cupped
Spike's face.  "Calm down, will you?"


Spike shut his eyes for a moment.  When he opened them, the familiar
mischief was back in his gaze.  "Why don't I get you excited instead?"  He
leaned down and captured Doyle's mouth in a devouring kiss.

The green-eyed man gave up on reasoning with him.  For the moment, he was
willing to settle for distracting him, and distracting himself.  He tilted
his head to the side, giving his lover better access to his mouth even as
he snaked his hands beneath Spike's shirt in order to feel his smooth,
cool flesh beneath his palms.  Long fingers wandered down Doyle's back
before hands cupped his ass in a bruising grip.

Tearing at Spike's shirt, Doyle allowed himself to be walked backwards,
stopping only when he backed into Cordelia's desk.  Doyle hissed as Spike
plucked at his nipples, waves of rough pleasure washing through him.  Even
as he allowed himself to be pushed up onto the desk, Doyle murmured, "This
is a really bad idea."

"I want you," Spike said, feeding from Doyle's mouth again and again.

"Mmm...but she'll kill us," Doyle said, dropping his hands to the button
of Spike's jeans.

"No, she won't," Spike reassured him, thrusting up against his light
touch.

"Yes, she will," countered Cordelia from the doorway.

Doyle pushed Spike back, sliding down off the desk to his feet. 
"Princess!  I didn't expect you to be in this early."  He took a step away
from Spike and began to straighten his clothing.  Beside him, Spike
scowled at both of them and flopped down into one of the chairs.

"Don't try it," Cordelia said, walking past them to put her purse down on
the desk, along with a medium-sized cloth bag.  "I'm not stupid and I've
had my morning espresso.  What is it about no sex in the office that you
can't seem to understand?"

"Can't help it," Spike said with a grin.  "He's just so damn
irresistible."

"Oh, yeah," Cordelia said.  "I'm having trouble not throwing him across
the desk myself."  She sat down at the desk and turned on her computer. 
"Why don't you take the fun and games downstairs?"

Doyle sat down in the other chair.  "In a minute.  Can I ask a favor of
you?"

She glared suspiciously at Spike.  "If Spike is making you ask me to hold
the video camera again..."

"No, nothing like that," Doyle assured her.  "It's about Xander."

She was immediately all concern.  "Is he all right?"

"We're not sure."  He quickly explained what was worrying him and Spike. 
"We want to know what's bothering him.  We want to fix it."

Cordelia looked from him to Spike, eyes thoughtful.  After a moment she
smiled softly and nodded.  "I'll talk to him.  I don't like the way this
sounds."

"Thanks, Princess.  He'll be home in a little while."

"I'm all over it."

Doyle stood up and grabbed Spike by the shoulder.  "We're going to go hang
out in the back," he said, motioning toward the small back room.  He
wanted to be able to hear Xander for himself, to know as soon as possible
what was wrong with his lover.  Judging by how willingly Spike followed
him, the blond man was eager as well.

Cordelia held up a hand.  "Hold it, you two.  I just want to make sure
we're clear on something:  the back room still counts as the office."  She
leaned forward, eyebrows raised.  "No.  Sex.  In.  The.  Office."

"We got it, Princess."  Doyle pulled Spike with him to the back room and
left the door cracked open.  "This way we'll be able to see and hear."

"Nothing to see and hear yet," the vampire muttered.  "Not unless you
think watching Cordelia file her nails is entertainment."  He glared
through the crack, then turned hungry eyes on Doyle.  "What say you we
finish what we started?"

"Did you not just hear Cordy?  No sex in the ommmm-"  Doyle's words were
swallowed by Spike's mouth as the vampire pulled him close.  Despite the
heat and hunger in the other man's touch, neither made an effort to do
more than hold the other and exchange deep, searching kisses.

Both of them stopped when they heard the office door open.  Still wrapped
around each other, they leaned over so they could see through the crack.

Doyle shook his head as he saw what Xander had worn to school:  a tight
orange t-shirt and carpenter jeans.  He knew the brown-eyed man had
probably just grabbed the first articles of clothing he'd found on the
floor in the morning, but he really should know better.  He was teasing
the other students, which was just unfair.

Xander grinned as he dropped his bag on the floor.  "Hey, Cordy.  How's it
going?"

"Interesting.  That's what I was going to ask you.  And I brought what you
asked for, by the way."

"Great, thanks.  And why were you going to ask me, besides being polite?" 
He sat down and folded his arms behind his head.

"I was talking to Angel and he told me you turned down a chance to go and
shake your groove thing last night.  Are you feeling all right?"

The grin slipped from Xander's face and he brought his arms down to cross
them over his chest.  "I'm fine."

"So you really wanted to study instead of going out?"

Xander sighed.  "Do you remember when we were going out?"

"I have the occasional flashback, yes."

"Remember how when we'd go out, we wouldn't go out together?"

Doyle was surprised to see Cordelia flush.  "Xander, if you ever tell
anyone I said this I'll deny it, but I'm not really proud of that."

"At the time it sucked, but now I'm kind of glad you did it," he said
quietly.

"What?"

"If we'd just gone out together, no one would have been able to believe
it.  We would have spent so much time dealing with people who couldn't
believe that you were with me that it would have destroyed every evening
we had."  He paused.  "Of course, every evening we had we didn't exactly
have together, but you know what I mean, right?"

Cordelia got up and moved to sit in the chair beside Xander.  "Is that why
you don't want to go out with them?  Because you don't think people
believe you're with them?"

"It's hard to have a good time when disbelieving stares are all you can
feel."  He shrugged.  "Don't get me wrong.  I love them and I know they
love me.  It's just everyone else who seems to have a hard time believing
it."

"Xander, you can't let other people stop you from having a good time."

"I'm sure I'll get over it, but right now I just don't want to have to
feel this way."

Cordelia reached out and patted his arm.  "Xander..."

"Don't mind me," he said, standing up.  He picked up the bag on her desk. 
"Is this it?"

"What?  Yeah, that's it.  Xander..."

"I've got homework to do," he said, grabbing his bag and heading for the
stairs.  "Thanks, Cordy."

Doyle sighed deeply.  This was not good.  He met Spike's gaze.  How were
they supposed to fix this?  He had no idea where to begin, but he could
tell by the calculation in his eyes that Spike was beginning to come up
with a plan.

Doyle suddenly became even more worried.

******

Xander shifted on the couch, wriggling around on his stomach until he had
an unobstructed view over Spike's shoulder.  The blond man was sitting on
the floor, back against the couch as he applied a new coat of black polish
to his nails.  Spike had fished the black paint out of the bag of polish
Xander had convinced Cordelia to lend him.

"See something interesting, pet?"  Spike glanced over at him, face level
with Xander's as he smiled into his eyes.  "Did I miss a spot?"

"No."  Xander leaned forward and stole a quick kiss.  "I've never seen you
do this before, that's all."

"Don't have to do it often, now, do I?"  Spike returned his attention to
his task.  "Don't need perfection like the princess, I just want it to be
there. 
  *Someone* peeled most of it off last night, so it's got to be redone." 
  A 
final brush stroke and Spike put the bottle down.  "There.  Beat up a few
demons and it'll be just like it was."

Xander grabbed the bottle of polish and screwed the lid on securely.  He'd
promised Cordelia to take good care of her beauty products.  It didn't
matter that a vampire was his boyfriend - he didn't want to bring Cordy's
wrath down on himself.  Besides, Spike wouldn't protect him from her:  the
vampire would most likely join him in cowering under a piece of furniture
if she came after them.

Realizing what he was doing, Xander suppressed giggles.  He didn't want to
have to explain the laughing fit to his lovers.  It was just a quiet
evening at home for LA's premiere warriors in the fight against evil.  The
oldest vampire in the room was reading a book while the half-demon
muttered to himself over the racing pages.  Meanwhile, the self-proclaimed
Big Bad was painting his nails while Xander lounged on the couch.

They did all this while wearing the pyjamas that Xander had picked out. 
LA's vanguard against evil, and their fearless leader was wearing pyjamas
that featured fluorescent ducklings.  Not that the monkeys on his own
clothes were any more dignified, of course, but it would never do for the
bad guys to find out about this.  No one would ever take them seriously
again.

Hooking his chin over Spike's shoulder, he looked down at Spike's hands. 
"Very nice."  He turned his head to nuzzle at his lover's ear.  "Always
wished I could carry off the look."  He nipped at the soft earlobe.

"What do you mean, wish you could?"

Xander took advantage of Spike's turning to face him and kissed him,
lingeringly this time.  After he pulled back he shrugged, fighting down
the giggles again.  Spike had just finished putting the final touch on his
punk image with the polish, but he was sitting on the ground wearing
bright blue pyjamas covered in cavorting yellow kittens.  It was cute, in
a strange way. 
  He realized that he'd never answered Spike's question.  "I couldn't wear
  
it.  It works for you.  Hey, it worked for Oz.  It just wouldn't be right
on me."

"Why not?" asked Spike.

"Because it's stupid," Doyle said.  He looked up and caught Spike's death
glare.  "I mean, it's stupid for most people.  Not for Spike."  He dropped
his eyes back to the paper in front of him.

Xander thought he could see the Irishman smiling and that the newspaper in
his hands was shaking rather suspiciously, but then Spike's eyes were on
him again and he was lost in their blue depths.  "You have this attitude
of being cool, Spike.  Sort of like 'fuck you, world, I'll wear what I
bloody well like' so the polish works.  I don't have the attitude so I
can't carry it off."  He leaned in toward Spike's mouth, sighing in
protest when the vampire backed up.  "Spike..."

"Sit up," Spike said.

"What?"

"Sit up and shove over."

Xander sat up, making room for Spike next to him on the couch.  He eyed
the bag Spike brought with him.  "What's that for?"

"You, you silly git."  Spike began to root around inside of the bag,
muttering to himself.  "Know I saw it...there it is!"  With a triumphant
grin, he pulled a small bottle out of the bag.  "Perfect."

Xander shook his head.  "Have you lost your mind?"

"Give me your hand."  Spike moved closer to him, shaking the bottle
gently.  "That wasn't a request, love."

Xander held out his hand.  Why was Spike bothering?  He was just going to
look like an idiot when it was all over.  Still, he wasn't going to try to
argue his way out of this.  He'd just wash the stuff off after Spike saw
how stupid it looked.

The experience was strange.  He had to lean into Spike in order to give
the other man room to work.  The polish felt cool as it spread out over
his nails, cool like the hand that cradled his.  It was strangely
intimate, being so close to his lover, the experienced made new by the
attention focused on his fingertips, not something they usually paid much
attention to.

Spike had plenty of practice on himself; it didn't take long for him to
finish Xander's hands.  The brown-eyed man stared down at his nails, not
sure how he felt about the dark blue polish that coated them.  "Um..."

"Don't say anything," Spike said.  He turned Xander around and made him
hold his hands out to the others.  "What do you think?"

The other men looked up.  Angel cocked his head to one side and stared at
him for a moment.  "I like it."

Doyle nodded.  "Didn't think I would, but I like it, too.  It looks good
on you."

Xander stared down at his nails.  "Really?"

"Really, love."  Spike kissed him.

Xander responded eagerly, then pulled away.  "If it works for me, it'll
work for anyone."  He grabbed the bag and walked over to Doyle, dropping
to kneel on the floor in front of him.

Doyle's fingers curled protectively around his paper.  "Just what do you
think you're doing?"

"Give me your hands."  Xander held out one of his own, while with the
other he searched through the bag for the color he wanted.

"No."

Xander pulled out the bottle he wanted and put it on the ground.  He
looked up at Doyle.  "What?"

"No."

"Please?  I just want to try it out."  He drew his lower lip between his
teeth and began to worry at it.

"For the love of...fine."  Doyle dropped his paper and thrust his hands
out to Xander.

Xander gently turned each of his hands over and placed a kiss into each
palm, scraping his teeth across the sensitive skin as he did so.  He shook
the bottle just as Spike had done, then carefully began to apply the
sparkly green paint to each nail.  After a few minutes he'd finished and
he sat back to admire his handiwork.  He liked it.  "Spike?"

The blond man moved to stand behind Xander.  "Looks good," the vampire
said. 
  "Suits him."

Doyle stared down at his hands.  "Really?"

"Really."  Xander hadn't really been completely sure it would work for
Doyle, but it did.  It just looked right on him, somehow.  Not for
everyday, but definitely kind of hot.  He glanced down at the bag beside
him.  "Angel..."

Angel put down his book.  "I'm suddenly feeling very tired.  I think I'll
be turning in now."

"No, you don't."  Spike picked Doyle up and dropped him into Angel's lap. 
"Keep him distracted," he told the green-eyed man.

Doyle looked confused for a moment, then he grinned and sealed his mouth
over Angel's.  The taller man protested for all of a moment and then he
gave into the hungry lips moving over his.

Xander put the distraction to good use.  He glared at Spike when the blond
man tried to hand him eye-killing yellow.  As much fun as Spike found the
game taunt-the-Sire, that wasn't what this was about.  He vetoed Spike's
suggestion and picked up a dark color, maroon or burgundy, he couldn't
decide which it was closer to.  He painted Angel's nails quickly, stealing
quick glances up at the two men in the chair as he did so.  A laugh
escaped him as he noticed that Doyle was carefully keeping his nails away
from Angel's hair, giving the polish time to dry.

When he was finished, he sat back, leaning against Spike's shins as he
grinned at the two men.  It took Angel a few minutes to realize that his
hands were free.  He gradually stopped kissing Doyle and looked down at
his hands.  "Hmm."

Doyle shrugged.  "It looks good."  He sounded surprised.

Xander grinned.  He had just spent the evening painting his lovers' nails.
 Cordelia would never let him live this down.  His laughter transformed
into a yawn.  "On that disturbing note, I'm going to head for bed.  I've
got classes tomorrow."  One of these semesters, he was going to work
things so that he didn't have any classes on Fridays.

He kissed each of his lovers and headed for the bedroom, holding his hands
up so he could look at them as he went.  It was strange, but the dark blue
color was almost a sort of proof of how much he was loved.  Look at what
he'd been able to convince Doyle and Angel to do.  Look at the pyjamas
they were all wearing!  He knew the others loved him, knew the love he
felt for them was returned, but it was nice to see an external sign of it
sometimes, too.

And hey, who would've thought that he could pull off nail polish, let
alone apply it?

*****

Doyle relaxed on top of Angel, arms still looped around his neck.  He
wasn't quite ready to turn in but the thought of joining Xander in bed was
tempting.  He stretched, but before he could make a move to rise Spike was
standing in front of him.  "Don't get up.  There's something I want to
talk to you about."

"Is this about Xander?"  Doyle kept his voice low.

Spike nodded and quickly filled Angel in on why they were concerned about
the younger man.  "I think I've got a way to fix it."

The glee in his eyes was enough to remind Doyle of his earlier
nervousness.  "How?"

"He's upset because he doesn't think people can believe he's with us,
right? 
  So we just make it clear that he is.  We do something that no one can
  have 
a doubt about what he means to us."

Angel sighed wearily.  "Spike, we've talked about this.  I don't care if
Xander did agree to it, you *can't* have sex with him in public.  We've
got to maintain some image of obeying the law-"

"That's not what I'm talking about, but just you try to stop me.  You'll
be joining in after a few minutes, anyway.  You always were the one with
the publicity kink, not me."  Spike knelt down and pulled a box out from
under the couch.  "I picked these up just for this.  I figure what we can
do is meet him at a club and wear them all night.  Make a public statement
about who owns who, see?"  He opened the box.

Doyle's eyes widened.  Inside lay three different collars.  "Are those
collars?" he asked, not quite able to believe his eyes.

"Yeah.  I picked one out for each of us.  I was thinking we'd let Xander
put them on us and then go into a club.  Let everyone see that we are with
him, that we're his.  That should help him feel better."

Doyle shook his head.  "No.  I can't do that."

"You're not willing to do a little thing to show him you love him?"

Green eyes narrowed.  He wasn't going to let Spike manipulate him.  Not
this time.  "You are going to sit there and look at me and try to tell me
that?"  He held up his hands, plucking at the shirt of his pyjamas.  His
nails were painted and he was wearing sleeping gear with frolicking ponies
on it!  Of course he loved Xander!

Angel's arms tightened around him.  "I think it sounds like it could
be...fun," the taller man admitted.  "Not what we usually do, but it could
be a good time at the club."  He leaned in to nuzzle at Doyle's ear.  "A
good time here, after..."

Doyle shivered, but he shook his head.  "I don't think I can do this."

"Why not?" asked Spike, all concerned blue eyes.

Looking down at Angel's shoulder because he couldn't look either man in
the eyes without feeling like a fool, he tried to explain.  "I know what
Xander's talking about.  You two can't know what it's like - you've both
got the whole deadly sexy vampire vibe working for you.  Xander doesn't, I
don't, have that.  When we go out, eyes just follow the two of you and I
can practically hear people wondering what the hell the two of you see in
a plain half-demon and a human.  It can be a little intimidating."

Cool hands landed on his shoulders even as Angel cuddled him closer.  "I
didn't know," Spike said quietly.

"Why should you?  Most of the time it doesn't bother me.  I bet Xander
would say the same thing.  Usually I don't even think of it."  He licked
his lips. 
  "So wearing collars and making a display is fine for you; I mean, you're
  
*you*.  It just wouldn't be the same for me."

Angel shook his head.  "It would be.  Doyle, you're not a vampire.  That
doesn't mean you're not an incredibly sexy man."  He shook his head, not
giving Doyle the chance to protest.  "I think you've been too busy
noticing how people look at us to notice how they look at you.  Half the
time when we go out for a drink or for dinner I don't want to let you out
of my sight."

Spike pressed up against Doyle from behind.  "I hate it, the way other
people look at you, look at Xander.  Sometimes I just want to put both of
you in collars so people will know to keep their damn hands and eyes off
you."

Doyle looked from one man to the other.  "Really?"

"Really," Angel said.  "Doyle, please think about this.  If you just let
yourself go, you'll have a good time."

The Irishman looked at the box resting on he arm of the chair.  He reached
out and picked up the collars, running his fingers over them.  One was
black leather with small, silver spikes standing out all the way around. 
"I guess this one is for you," he said to Spike.

Spike grinned.  "Sort of fitting, isn't it?"

The second was of medium-sized silver links, simple, slender and heavy. 
"Angel?" Doyle guessed.

"Yeah."

So the last one must be for him.  He fingered the soft black leather and
was surprised by the feeling of something embossed on the leather.  He
held it up to his face and studied the collar, finding a delicate pattern
of Celtic imagery lightly embossed on the leather.  The leather was so
dark that the pattern couldn't be seen, only felt.

Spike's lips moved against his ear.  "Will you wear it, love?"

Doyle nodded slowly.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I will."

Spike and then Angel kissed him, long and deep and loving.  Spike's lips
moved back to his ear.  "And I'll get Xander to do something special for
us, love.  Promise you that.  Promise you'll love it."

Doyle allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, watching as Spike hid the
collars once more.  "I'm ready for bed."

Spike and Angel agreed with him, and together they headed for the bedroom.

*****

Angel shifted his body so he was blocking Doyle from the cool evening
breeze as they waited outside of the club for Spike and Xander to arrive. 
Spike had promised some sort of surprise from Xander and had arranged to
meet them in front of the club before going in together.  The others
weren't late yet, but they were pushing it.  Angel hefted the box in his
hands, hearing the soft sound of the contents shifting inside.

As a group of people passed them, Angel moved to block Doyle even more,
this time from the gazes of the mix of demons and humans that passed them.
 It was foolish; they were going to be going inside soon and everyone
would see his lover then, but until then he wasn't going to let everyone
just ogle the other man.  Although he had to admit that Doyle was worth
ogling:  the Irish man was wearing black slacks, a white undershirt and a
dark gray button-down shirt.  The dark color made his skin seem even paler
than usual, made his green eyes stand out even more than usual.  With a
small smile, Angel saw 

that the green polish from the night before was still on Doyle's nails.

Angel caught the tail-end of an appreciative glance from Doyle.  Looked
like he'd chosen the right clothes for tonight, then:  maroon silk shirt
over dark brown leather pants.  Like Doyle he was still wearing the polish
that Xander had put on him.  He leaned in to Doyle, brushing his lips
across the smaller man's.  He wasn't going to start anything on the
street, no matter what Spike might claim about his proclivities for sex in
public, but he couldn't stand there and look at his lover and not touch
him.

Doyle smiled up at him, then his gaze moved over Angel's shoulder.  "Here
they come."

Angel turned to watch Spike and Xander approach.  Spike was in his black
jeans and t-shirt with a red silk shirt over top.  Angel hadn't expected
him to wear anything else; Spike knew what worked for him and wasn't going
to change any time soon.  That was fine; Angel was used to him the way he
was, loved him the way he was.  Cigarette dangling from between his lips,
his blue eyes were alight with devilish glee and his smile was one of
anticipation.

Xander walked beside Spike, looking slightly nervous.  Angel knew some of
that had to be due to the fact that he'd been dragged out when he was
uncomfortable being out with his lovers.  He suspected more of it came
from whatever part of his plan Spike was insisting on keeping a secret. 
His gaze wandered down from Xander's troubled expression to his legs,
loving the way they looked encased in soft black leather.  His eyes
traveled upward, appreciating the way the dark blue shirt clung to
Xander's torso, the way it outlined the muscles in his stomach and arms,
the way it revealed the delicate hoop of the ring through his nipple...

Angel froze, gaze riveted to Xander's chest, not able to look past the
ring that stood so clearly outlined by the tight shirt.  Beside him, he
could hear Doyle's breathing increase in speed, knowing that Doyle had
noticed the same thing.

"Hello, boys," Spike said, voice almost unbearably smug as he smirked at
their reactions.

Doyle lunged forward and grabbed Xander by his upper arms.  "Are you all
right?  When did you have that done?  Did it hurt?  Does it still hurt?" 
The whole time his gaze flickered from Xander's eyes to his chest and back
again.

"I'm fine," Xander promised with a laugh.  "Spike took me to have it done
just before we got here.  It hurt when it happened, but it's fine now."

"Took him to that place downtown, the one run by the Sfarni?  I made him
perform the healing spell right after it was done, so it's completely
healed now."

"Why didn't you have him do the numbing spell?" Doyle asked.

"I wouldn't let him," Xander said softly.  He shrugged a little.  "It felt
like cheating when Spike said it wouldn't hurt at all."  A wicked little
grin quirked his lips.  "But I did go along with the healing spell - I
didn't want to have to wait to try it out."

"You mean you and Spike haven't..." Angel let his voice trail away.  He
was still trying to get his eyes to move away from the hidden ring for
more than a second at a time.  He couldn't help smiling, though:  it
sounded just like something Xander would do, refusing the numbing spell
because it interfered with his inner moral code.  It was the same code
that made him refuse to let Spike touch the ring before his other lovers
knew about it.

"Nope.  I wouldn't let him play without you two."  Xander leaned forward
and pressed his lips to Doyle's, then turned to Angel and kissed him as
well.  "Are we going to get this over with so we can go home?" he asked,
blatantly ignoring Spike.

"We can't go in just yet," Spike said, pulling the box out of Angel's
hands. 
  "Some of us aren't done getting dressed yet."  He opened the box and
  held 
it out to Xander.  "Help us get finished?"

Angel watched as Xander's eyes widened as he reached into the box and
pulled out the black embossed collars.  "What are these for?"

"They're for us."  Doyle's voice was steady even though he shifted a
little nervously as he spoke.

"I don't understand."

"We're going to wear them tonight, Xander," Angel said gently.  "Spike
thought of it, but all of us like the idea.  We're going to go inside and
have a good time, and the whole time we'll be wearing these symbols of how
much we love you, how much you love us.  Sort of a sign to the world that
we're with you and no one had better come between us, ever."

"I'm going to kill Cordy," Xander muttered.

"Don't," Spike said, reaching out to tilt Xander's chin up.  "She just
helped us figure out what was wrong, love." "You guys don't have to go
make spectacles of yourselves for me.  I know you love me.  I know it like
I know the sky is blue.  You don't have to do something you don't want to
in order to prove something to me."

"But we do want to," Doyle said.  Lifting his chin, he took a step toward
Xander.  "Put it on me?"

Xander stared at him for a moment, then handed the box to Spike, holding
on to the black collar.  With trembling fingers, he quickly fastened it
around the pale length of Doyle's neck.  Moving quickly, as if he were
afraid to stop, he picked up the studded collar.  A nervous laugh escaped
him even as he lovingly placed it on Spike.  Finally, he was reaching up
to Angel.

Angel closed his eyes as he felt the metal encircle his neck, cold even
against his skin.  The links seemed heavier than they really were as they
rested at his throat.  It was strange - he'd never been one for collars,
but he liked this.  It was a reminder of who he belonged to:  these three
men, who also belonged to him.  He opened his eyes and grinned at the look
of growing lust in Xander's eyes.  "Ready?"  Not waiting for an answer, he
shepherded the other men inside.

The club was filled with beings of all species, drawn there for the music
and drinking and dancing.  Humans and demons alike prowled through the
crowd at the bar and through the gyrating mass of dancers, searching for
someone, anyone in the night.

"Drink or dance?" Doyle yelled over the music.

They all waited for Xander's answer.  "Dance," he said.  "I don't want to
miss any of this and I want to stay on the floor for as long as we're
here."

"Who are you going to dance with first?"  Judging by the smirk on his
face, Spike already thought he knew the answer.

Xander seemed to take exception to Spike's knowing look.  "Getting a
little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"  He leaned in closer to the blond
man, ghosting his lips a fraction of an inch away from the line of his
jaw.  "You can just wait your turn."  He grabbed Doyle's hands and dragged
him off toward the dance floor.

Angel laughed out loud at the look on his Childe's face:  it was a
priceless mixture of disbelief, pride, and frustrated lust.  He stood
beside Spike and watched as Xander and Doyle found a place on the floor. 
It took both of them a moment to find the rhythm of driving beat and then
they were moving, swaying together as the crowd moved around them.

Angel managed to tear his eyes away from them long enough to notice the
way other people were looking at the two young men.  Appreciative glances
flickered over to them again and again.  Soon looking wasn't enough and
both men were approached by humans and demons both.  Each time they
refused to be split up.  When Doyle got asked, Xander would jerk him
closer and run a possessive finger over the black collar, making it clear
that no one could take Doyle away from him.

Angel couldn't resist staying away from them any longer.  He left Spike's
side and eased his way through the crowd in order to reach them.  When he
was beside them, he reached out and ran a hand over Xander's back.  "May
I?"

Neither man stopped moving.  Xander had one of his legs thrust
aggressively between Doyle's as they ground against each other, drifted
apart and came together again and again.  Xander tossed his head, shaking
his hair out of his eyes.  "I suppose so," he said teasingly.  "You've
been a good boy."

That was all the invitation Angel needed.  He'd gotten over his fear of
dancing with his lovers' help:  after all, it would take a stronger man
than Angel to resist the chance to move with them on the dance floor, to
tease them and himself with fleeting, teasing touches that aroused them
and the people watching them.

He fitted himself against Xander's back, placing his hands on his hips in
order to better press his groin against Xander's ass.  He soon caught on
to their rhythm and was moving in perfect sync with them.  He quickly lost
himself in the feeling of the hot body writhing back against his own, in
the feeling of the beat pounding through his body, in the scent of arousal
that surrounded him and invigorated him.  He could see the clean line of
Xander's neck, see the fine sheen of sweat that coated the exposed expanse
Doyle's chest.  Through it all he was intensely aware of the weight of the
silver links that encircled his throat.

A warm hand touched his shoulder and he turned to look into the eyes of a
coolly beautiful woman.  "How would you like to try something a little
more exclusive?"

Angel shook his head, but he made no reply.  He left that up to Xander.

The brown-eyed man heard the question and turned, leaning back into Doyle
even as he fisted his hands in Angel's shirt and pulled him close,
thrusting up against him in time with the music.  He shook his head at the
woman.  "Sorry.  I'm not in a sharing mood tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, Angel saw the woman take in the collar on
his throat and the one on Doyle's.  A new look of respect came into her
eyes as she nodded to Xander and disappeared back into the crowd.

A familiar voice made its way to Angel's ears and he tuned into it 
instantly; when Spike spoke, it was always a good idea to listen.  "No, I
can," the blond man said, sounding both condescending and earnest.

"Are you insane?" countered a stranger.  "No one can get in between them. 
That human has them completely wrapped around his finger.  Lucky
bastards."

"Don't you mean lucky bastard?"  Spike stressed the singular.

"Oh, I envy him, too, but they're the really lucky ones.  They've got him,
don't they?  It's not fair, the way he won't look at anyone but them."

Clearly choking back laughter, Spike said, "I still say I can get in on
that."

"I still say you're crazy."

"Care to make a small wager?"

Whoever the stranger was, he wasn't stupid.  Angel knew Spike had given up
on trying to cheat the other person out of money when cool hands slid up
under the back of his shirt.  "Room for one more in this party?" asked the
blond.

Xander laughed.  "We're going to look like an obscene conga-line."

Angel had to agree.  He swung Xander around and thrust him into Spike's
arms.  In the same movement, he moved close to Doyle and began to move
against him.  Doyle laughed up into his eyes as he placed possessive hands
on Angel's hips and leaned in close enough for Angel to feel the sweet
damp heat of him.  Several beings made abortive moves toward them.  Angel
didn't care if they wanted to ask one of them to dance or if they just
wanted a better look; he growled at all of them.

"Angel..."  Doyle's tone was admonishing.

"No," Angel said.  "You're mine."  He moved even closer to Doyle.  He
didn't want anyone to even consider coming between them.  This was his
lover:  he needed this man like plants needed sunlight, like humans needed
air.  He loved him and he was never going to let him go, was never going
to let any of them go.  That thought in mind, he turned his head, wanting
to catch sight of Spike and Xander.

He almost stopped dancing when he finally found them.  Wrapped around each
other so tightly they seemed to be a single being, they were surrounded by
a watching crowd.  Still moving in time with the music, they writhed
against each other in a blatant display of lust and need.  Xander's head
was lowered as he licked at the base of Spike's neck, just below the line
of his studded color.  Spike's head was thrown back, an expression of
ecstasy clear on his features.  The mass of people around them began to
move more restlessly.

Angel grabbed Doyle's hand and pulled him over toward the others.  It was
time to go.  A few moments more and Xander and Spike would have moved
beyond simulating sex to the real thing.  That, or the crowd would have
stripped the two of them and carried them off.  Either way, Angel had
other plans for the evening and he wasn't willing to allow anything to
interfere with them.

It was time to do some claiming of his own.

He and Doyle managed to manhandle Spike and Xander out of the club, much
to the disappointment of the other patrons.  Angel didn't remember much
about the cab ride home.  They all made it fully clothed, so it must not
have been that interesting.  Back at their apartment, Spike seemed to
catch on that something was driving him beyond simple lust.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" the blond demanded as Angel tore his
shirts away, discarding the torn cloth on the ground as useless rags.

"Got to have you," Angel said, pulling him toward the bedroom.  "I need
all of you, have to make you mine."  He pulled Spike close, capturing his
mouth, dominating it with his own.  As he released his Childe, he caught a
fleeting glimpse of a look of want and triumph pass between Xander and
Doyle.  "What?"

"Just wondered how long it would take you to claim us," Xander said,
pulling off Doyle's shirt.  "We were beginning to get impatient."  He
raised an eyebrow challengingly, then turned to kiss Doyle, making sure
Angel had a full view as he pulled the bare-chested man close to him.

Angel shoved Spike down onto the bed and crossed the room to tear the two
younger men apart.  He stared down at the brown-eyed man.  "Have your fun
now," he said quietly, almost purring the words.  "You're next."  He could
hear Xander's heart rate increase but the only scents of arousal and love
from the other man, from all his lovers.  He pressed a hard kiss to
Xander's lips then turned back to Spike.

The other vampire had stripped away the rest of his clothing and was
reclining back upon the bed, cocky grin firmly in place.  "You gonna stand
there and talk or get over here and finish what you started?"

Angel replied by using vampiric speed to toss his own clothing to the
floor and cover his lover's body with his own.  He crushed Spike's lips
beneath his own, slipping out of human guise, cutting at the soft skin
with fangs that dropped of their own accord.  He felt Spike's face grow
ridged and inhuman against his and soon the kiss was a bloody, passionate
battle for dominance, each man feeding from and giving to his lover with
equal fervor.

Angel fumbled blindly for the lube that he knew would be there; even now,
he wasn't willing to risk hurting Spike.  Never again - he was never going
to hurt anyone he loved ever again.  He prepared Spike roughly, swallowing
the other man's cries and shouts of pleasure as he continued to feed from
his mouth.

He pulled away abruptly, ignoring Spike's incoherent sounds of protest as
he flipped his lover over.  He stopped Spike's complaints by thrusting
into him, joining to him in a single forceful move.  He and his lover
began to move together in a rhythm that had been theirs for over a hundred
years, one that Angel knew was ingrained in his muscles and memories and
heart, one that he could never forget.

He felt the bed shake with a different rhythm and spared a glance from the
pale back flexing beneath him to glance over at the other two men who had
joined them on the bed.  Xander had Doyle bent nearly double beneath him
as he thrust into the Irishman's body again and again, panting heavily as
he locked stares with Doyle.

The sight pushed Angel closer to the edge, so he pressed himself against
Spike's back and bit into his shoulder, filling his mouth with the
cherished taste of his Childe.  Beneath him, Spike howled and came, the
sound and feel wringing Angel's orgasm from him.  He reluctantly removed
his fangs from Spike's skin as he slipped free of his body, licking the
stray droplets of blood that welled up as he listened to Xander and
Doyle's comparatively quiet groans of release.  Spike wriggled around
beneath him and they shared another kiss, quieter but just as full of
love.

A few moments of rest, then Angel was grabbing Xander, even as Spike moved
to pin Doyle to the mattress.  Angel grinned down at Xander.  "I told you
your turn was coming."

Xander didn't bother to answer; he just lunged upwards and slid his tongue
into Angel's mouth in a surprising, consuming kiss, licking around Angel's
still-present fangs.  Angel responded enthusiastically, skimming his hands
over the warm skin pressed so close to him, feeling the blood thrum
through the veins, feeling Xander's breath wash over him in warm,
comforting bursts.

He pulled away, ending the kiss because he wanted to explore Xander's new
accessory.  He slid his hand down Xander's chest, fingers coming to rest
on the thin silver ring piercing the dusky nub.  He tugged once and Xander
arched against him with a muted cry.  Grinning, Angel began to manipulate
the ring, delighting in the way Xander writhed and whimpered and cried out
beneath him as he grew hard once more.  He moved his other hand further
down, seeking the entrance to Xander's body.  To his surprise, his fingers
breached the opening easily, sliding into an already slick and loosened
channel.  He jerked his gaze back up to meet Xander's amused eyes.

"I didn't want to have to wait for anything," Xander said with a grin as
he lay back on the bed, spreading his legs in clear invitation.  He turned
his head and watched Doyle frantically thrust into Spike's voracious
mouth, then looked back at Angel, the need in his eyes even more
desperate.

Angel didn't hesitate; his own arousal had returned, as urgent as before
to be joined to his lover, to claim him at last.  He slid inside Xander,
gasping a little at the incredible feeling of heat that surrounded him. 
He set a driving rhythm, wanting it to last forever but wanting completion
just as much.  As he felt himself once again reaching the precipice, he
used one hand to pull Xander up to him.  As the younger man's arousal was
caught between them Xander moaned at the feeling of friction and let his
head loll back, exposing the line of his throat.  Angel licked over the
sweaty skin before sinking his teeth into the juncture of his neck and
shoulder.  The taste of Xander filled him:  blood that was redolent of
life and youth and love, indescribably sweet and human and pure.  Angel
allowed himself a taste, allowed himself the knowledge of this part of his
lover and then he was licking at the wound, sealing it with loving strokes
of his tongue.  He 

bent himself even further and caught the nipple ring between his teeth.  A
single tug and Xander was wailing beneath him, coming hard.  Angel allowed
himself to go as well, collapsing on top of Xander.

Xander's arms came around him and held him close.  The brown-eyed man
whispered quiet words of thanks and love into Angel's ear, and Angel could
only hold him tighter and kiss his throat again and again.  The continuing
contact renewed both men's erections slowly, even as Doyle hissed out his
completion as Spike's mouth finally undid him.

Angel exchanged a few more kisses with Xander, then murmured, "Think we
gave them enough time?"

Xander didn't get the chance to reply:  Spike grabbed him and pulled him
across Doyle's body.  "You're not done yet," the blond told Angel.

"I think *I* am," Doyle said wearily.

"Was that a challenge?"  Angel wrapped his arms around Doyle and pulled
until the other man was beneath him, warm body completely blanketed by
Angel's.  He pushed the sound of Xander and Spike's laughter and love to
the back of his awareness as he concentrated on the man in his arms.  He
kissed Doyle, able to taste Xander and Spike on his lips but also tasting
Doyle himself.  He still felt the urgent need to claim Doyle but the
physical edge had been taken off.  His mouth wandered over the furred
body, feasting on the taste of sweat and need and love that covered every
inch of it.  He soon felt Doyle's flesh begin to reawaken and he focused
on the other man's burgeoning erection, using teasing licks and
barely-there contact to bring him back to full arousal.

He kissed his way back up to Doyle's mouth, needed to taste his kiss once
more.  Mouths sealed together, he pressed himself inside of the other man,
murmuring appreciatively as he was surrounded by slick heat.  Moving
together in an effortless rhythm, Doyle's hand reached up to thread his
fingers into Angel's hair.  Angel followed the small directional tugs
immediately, allowing his head to be lowered until his lips were brushing
over the delicate skin of Doyle's throat.  He need no further
encouragement; he dragged his fangs over the pulse point on his throat
once, twice, and then he was sliding his teeth into Doyle's flesh.  Warm
blood filled his senses; Doyle tasted of heat and passion and something
that wasn't quite human, a special tang that belonged to Doyle alone. 
Once more he was careful to limit himself, not wanting to risk harming
Doyle.  As he laved Doyle's neck he snaked his hand down to pump Doyle's
arousal in time with his increasing thrusts.  He slowly pushed both of
them to completion, the sound of his and Doyle's cries closely echoed by
those of Xander and Spike.

Angel moved to lay between Doyle and Spike, one hand reaching out to clasp
Xander's as the human lay half on top of Spike.  No one said anything;
there was nothing else that needed to be said.  Xander grabbed some of the
towels they kept on hand and cleaned his lovers up, kissing each one
wearily as he did so.  He dropped the towels on the ground when he
finished and sprawled back across Spike, reaching out one arm to stretch
over Angel's chest.  Ready to sleep, Angel reveled in the feeling of being
surrounded by the ones he loved.

Just as he drifted off, he heard Xander's mutter, thick with sleep: 
"Maybe we should go out again next weekend."

Angel opened his eyes and shared a triumphant grin with Spike when Doyle
murmured, "Hear, hear."  Things were finally back on track for them.

*****
I promised it would go up, Sandy.  I hope this cheers you up <hugs>

That's all for this series, for now, anyway.  I do have another story
planned in it... "Matter of Change".  Gold stars for anyone who guesses
what happens in that one (Karen and Sandy, you don't get to play).

I have an S/X snippet I have to write or else be driven insane by it, and
then I'll be starting a completely new story...a cross-over with
Highlander, as if there aren't enough of those already, featuring
(drumroll):  Wesley/Xander, among others.

Kay
(up way to late on a school night)