•••

His unhappiness wasn't a sudden thing; he hadn't been blissful before the events of the day and night that had just passed. This not-happiness had been building for some time. Specifically, ever since Oz had gone full alpha on him. There were times when Xander wasn't completely sure he knew Oz anymore. The werewolf treated the others in his pack with a sort of autocratic benevolence, and sometimes it bled over into his and Xander's relationship. That rankled Xander, who knew all too well that he wasn't a werewolf.

"You're still awake," Oz murmured as he walked into the room.

"Uh huh," Xander replied. "Everything go ok?"

"Yeah," Oz said quietly. "What's bothering you?" He could tell that Xander wasn't content, and figured that it was best to get it out into the open.

Xander sighed. "Nothing, really."

Oz stared at him, making the Raphe twitch.

"It's just...Oz, you *ordered* the pack out on some sort of hunt and *killed* someone. You reek of blood, you know," Xander began.

"It had to be done," Oz said flatly.

"Yeah," Xander snapped. "I'm sure it did. But you didn't ask."

"Ask what?" Oz inquired, curious. What had he not asked?

"What I thought. Or what Wes felt about you ordering Fred out into the dark, to go chasing mean things," Xander replied hotly. "Or Angel and Wil, who might've been able to help you."

"We handled it," Oz insisted. "It was for the pack to do."

"And we're not pack," Xander said bitterly. "Nope, definitely *not* pack. We just sit around here, worrying if you're going to *die* out there. But we're not pack," Xander railed, standing up to pace the room. "We risk our lives for you, watch the cubs, love you, follow you to hell and back, but we're not pack!" Xander shouted, making the windows rattle. Silence reigned for several very long moments.

Oz backed up a few steps. Xander was really mad. "It wasn't--"

"I know," Xander grated out. "It wasn't *our* problem. Nope, not ours at all. Some evil thing is threatening the cubs and eventually you and the others but it's not *our* problem. Watching the people we love suffer and die, or get killed on some harebrained vengeance kick..." His voice trailed off, choked away by tears. "And you just ordered them to do it, and they did! Who are you to tell them to risk their lives, all for your blasted anger?"

"I'm their alpha," Oz said softly. "It's my job."

"To get them killed?" Xander screamed.

"No, to protect them," Oz replied. "Sometimes that's dangerous, but it has to be done."

Xander glared at a wall, willing it to crumble into dust. This was not his life. His lover wasn't this stranger. The Raphe stared up at the ceiling, slowly counting to a thousand. "Who the hell are you?" He whispered brokenly. "Who? You snap and growl and order the pack around. You don't ask my anything anymore, you just do it. I know I'm not pack," Xander said, eyes blurring, "But do you have to treat me like some kind of whore?"

"What?" Oz said, his confusion obvious.

Xander ignored the werewolf. "I warm your bed, that's all. There's no communication, no talking. You command your troops and I work and feed a baby. You know, I talk to Wil more than to you. Hells, I talk to everyone more than to you, including the washing machine. It's pathetic. I'm pathetic, having a better relationship with a piece of machinery than my own lover!"

Oz flinched. Yeah, he'd been a bit preoccupied ever since they'd moved to Syracuse and the cubs had arrived. All of a sudden his pack had more than doubled, to include five infants that needed constant watching. The presence of children often solidified a pack, and theirs was no different. He'd had no idea, however, that his relationship with Xander had deteriorated so much. Or that his way of leading the pack was so offensive to the others.

Xander lifted teary eyes to the werewolf. "I just can't do this anymore, Oz. I don't know who you are anymore." The Raphe ran, past Oz and out the door, down the stairs and through the hall. The stunned werewolf heard the front door slam. Xander was gone.

•••

Angel waited patiently while Oz finished up whatever he needed to say to Fred. Once all the werewolves were safely upstairs, he reached over for Wil's hand. The blonde stood and followed Angel downstairs, to the sanctuary of their own room. The night had been stressful for all of them, between the hunt and the scared children. Now that all the cubs were back in bed and the pack was home, the vampires could relax.

The sound of a raised voice sent Wil over to his stereo. Xander was shouting, probably at Oz, and Wil didn't want to hear. He turned on the stereo, letting whatever he'd left in it last time start playing, as loud as he could get it. Angel nodded once, both understanding and agreeing. "This is a mess," Angel commented as he began to undress.

"Yeah," Wil agreed, also getting ready for bed. He could well imagine the tension that would fill the house for the next few weeks, until someone exploded.

Angel pulled back the covers and waited for Wil to climb into bed. "They'd better get it straightened out," He murmured as he joined Wil underneath slick, white sheets. "We're not going to be here that much longer."

"I know," Wil replied, burrowing into Angel's arms. "But they will. They have to."

Angel nodded silently, rubbing Wil's back as he thought about the situation. "Is there anything we can do?"

Wil shook his head, rubbing soft curls against Angel's neck. "Stay out of the way. Choosing sides, or even trying to mediate, will just make things worse. This is something that Xander, as well as Wesley, must deal with. We've no part of it." The blonde began to move slightly, in time with the music filling their room. It was working quite well at masking the raised voices above them; if Wil focused only on the music and Angel, he couldn't make out what was being said.

Angel sighed into Wil's hair, loving the way the stuff always managed to tickle him. "We've come so far, it's hard to watch things fall apart," The dark vampire whispered.

"It's not falling apart," Wil said vehemently, "We had our moments too, you know."

Angel winced. "I know," He admitted. "But like this?"

Wil shrugged. "Call it whatever you want, Angel," He murmured. "But things *will* get better."

"What is this music?" Angel asked, distracted by the sound filling the room.

Wil frowned. "Cheb Mami. Why, do you hate it?"

"No," Angel replied. "It's different, that's all. Should've expected no less, though."

Wil turned so that he could see Angel's face. "You're making some kind of backhanded comment about my taste in music, aren't you?" He accused, eyes narrowing. "Just come out and say it, Angel."

Angel's face was a portrait of confusion. What had he said to make Wil suddenly so upset? "I--I have no problem with the music, Wil. I was simply saying that I should've known that you'd have something so exotic in your collection."

"Awful, you mean," Wil snapped. "I know you, Angel. You don't make comments like that unless you hate something."

"That's not true!" Angel defended. "I like it, the music. It's fine. Why are you making such a big deal of this?"

Wil growled. "Why are *you* making such a big deal of it? Why bring up the music if you didn't have a problem?"

"It's different and caught my attention," Angel explained. "No other reason."

"Right," Wil spat. "Different. Which means what in Angel-speak? Awful."

Angel growled. What on earth was *wrong* with Wil? "No, it's not awful. Or bad, or ugly, or any of those other nasty words. I. Like. It. Ok? It's good music, upbeat, has rhythm, is catchy, danceable, and I even like the lyrics. And yes, I understand them. Now please, *please* stop accusing me of hating it!"

Wil bit his lip to keep from smiling. He loved winding Angel up like this, watching his lover scowl and scramble for some way to defend himself. "Good to hear. Xander thinks its awful."

Angel stared at Wil, beginning to suspect he was being had. "Wil?"

"Yes, Angel?" Wil said innocently.

"What was that?" Angel inquired.

"What was what?"

"That whole 'you hate it' thing a minute ago," Angel explained.

Wil grinned. "Just playing," He said brightly. "Don't want you to go soft on me."

Angel blinked. Then he smiled, baring sharp fangs. "Playing? Hmm... I can play too, you know." Wil barely had time to frown before Angel was up and out of the bed, rummaging through a drawer in his dresser. A moment later, he was back, grinning evilly. Wil started to get a little bit nervous.

"Angel..." Wil began, edging away from the middle of the bed. Angel pounced, pinning Wil down against the mattress. The blonde struggled briefly, but Angel was heavier. Besides, the dark vampire was most definitely not trying to hurt him; the soft whisper of lips against his neck told Wil this wasn't going to be about pain. Angel never hurt him in their bed. That didn't mean torture didn't occasionally enter the picture, though.

Angel opened the jar he'd procured and used its contents to slick up the white marble dildo he held. Wil initially resisted when Angel pushed his knees between the blonde's legs, still engaged in their spot of fighting. A long, hot kiss distracted his lover, though, and soon Angel had Wil spread out, exposed and waiting.

Wil's eyes flew open as Angel began to slowly push something thick and hard inside him. He winced against the straining pressure as the dildo stretched him all at once. Angel watched, enthralled, as Wil gasped and panted through the invasion, forcing himself to relax and accept the intrusion. He hadn't prepared the blonde beforehand, knowing that this was much more intense.

When the dildo was fully seated inside the blonde, Angel released his hold on it and leaned over Wil, kissing him gently on the forehead. His lover was a vision, as always, eyes flashing blue and gold, body blending into white silk and satin. Angel let his lips trail down Wil's face, pressing kisses here and there, nipping ivory skin as he worked his way down. He suckled on one tight nipple, relishing the sounds of Wil begging for anything, something, whatever Angel would give him. One of Angel's hands slid down to fondle Wil's testicles, knowing that it would make the blonde clench around the dildo. That in turn would rub the toy's ridges against the blonde's prostate, making him--

"Angel!" Wil screamed, back arching off the bed. Slender fingers scrabbled for purchase on slick sheets. Soon those fingers were reaching for Angel, trying to convince the dark vampire to do something else, to take pity on his poor, suffering childe. Wil's eyes rolled back in his head, jaw gaping open at the intense, almost frightening sensations running through his body. He was wound tight, aching, stretched into wanting so much...

Angel moved away from Wil's chest, licking a path down toward the blonde's groin. He laved Wil's weeping cock, cleaning his lover with meticulous care. Wil was so beautiful like this; Angel never wanted to leave their bedroom when his childe was laid out, open and wanting and needing him.

"Please, Angel," Wil begged, tears falling down sharp cheekbones. He needed Angel, needed his Sire to take him, fill him and banish this aching, terrifying *need* he had. The need that Angel had invoked, by touching, kissing and denying him.

Angel leaned up, capturing Wil's open mouth in a soft, deep kiss. At the same time, he eased the toy out of his childe's body, replacing it with his own hardness. Wil sighed into Angel's mouth, rolling his hips in welcome as Angel filled him. They moved together, point and counterpoint, one creature with two bodies. Angel took inside him Wil's cries and moans, just as Wil accepted Angel, voice and cock completing him.

When Wil's arms tightened around him, echoing how his body swallowed Angel whole, the dark vampire shuddered uncontrollably. The blonde's eyes were wide and unseeing, sky blue backlit by iridescent gold, hypnotizing him with their perfection. He couldn't stop himself from joining Wil, from tumbling down into the depths of his childe and lying there, surrounded by the warmth of this demon's love.

The reflexive panting of two sated vampires and the plaintive wail of Cheb Mami couldn't quite drown out the sound of feet hitting the stairs or the front door slamming hard. "That sounds bad," Wil murmured into Angel's neck, slowly stroking the dark vampire's back with one lazy hand.

"There goes Oz," Angel replied as a second spate of stair-stomping interrupted their afterglow.

"We're not getting involved," Wil stated firmly. "They can bloody well figure it out on their own."

"As you've said before." Angel flipped them over, cradling Wil against his chest. "And I happen to agree."

"We should put something on," Wil said, yawning. "The cubs will be up before too long."

Angel growled. "Later," He muttered grumpily. The dark vampire did not want to put unnecessary layers of clothes between himself and Wil. The cubs were going to have to learn restraint.