Archive of Our Own

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Early morning sunlight filtered through the dirty window pane, throwing shadows across the carpet and the small pile of notebooks in the middle of Spencer’s bedroom floor. The boy stood just off to the side, away from the beam, staring at the world outside with glassy eyes. He’d been doing that a lot in the last week, ever since he’d finally been released from the hospital. Sometimes he found himself lifting the sash, leaning outside with his weight balanced precariously on the heels of his hands, searching for... something.Spencer didn’t know what was more unsettling – that he had to continually be startled out of a trance by whoever came to check on him, or that the drive to swing his legs over the sill and drop to the ground seemed to be getting stronger.“You ready, Spence?” Spencer blinked twice and shook his head to clear it, his messy bedroom coming back into focus. Ryan was standing in the doorway, the strap of his backpack slung over one bony shoulder. There were dark circles under his eyes, but at least….Spencer couldn’t finish the thought. He knew he should be able to – he could feel some sort of comparison dying to be made – but the place in his mind where that information should be was blank. Two entire weeks were gone, leaving Spencer with nothing more than a giant, gaping hole where something important had been ripped away.”Now why would you say that?” the therapist asked, leaning forward in his chair. His mechanical pencil was poised just above the pad of paper he’d been jotting notes on for the last twenty minutes. Because it doesn’t make any fucking sense Spencer wanted to say. Because I didn’t hit my head, and there’s no tumour. Because I can’t remember but I can still feel it, like a hand on my arm or fingers at the back of my neck….He’d only shrugged and refused to say another word, but Spencer knew it was true. A healthy person didn’t just wake up one morning, tucked sweetly into bed, and magically forget two entire fucking weeks.Spencer would never forget the look on his mother's face when he'd come downstairs that morning, dressed in the nicest shirt he owned, grumbling about graduation photos and appointments at the ungodly hour of 9 AM. In hindsight, Spencer knew that she'd been immediately worried, but to her credit, she'd sat there quietly, watching him with sharp eyes as she questioned him on his plans for that afternoon, the things he'd done yesterday, and what he wanted to do tomorrow. It wasn't until he'd looked at her with a quirked eyebrow, reminding her about his grandmother's birthday dinner, that she'd gotten to her feet and demanded to know what he'd taken and where he'd gotten it.Funny, how quickly his anger had turned to fear as he realised just what had happened.“Spencer?” Ryan’s voice once again pulled Spencer from his thoughts and he finally took a step away from the window.“Yeah, I’m ready,” Spencer replied. He knelt down and shoved the notebooks on the floor into his backpack, paying no attention to the way the covers creased as he jammed them in sideways. He stood and shouldered his bag, standing in the middle of his room and making no move toward the door.He really didn’t want to go back to school. He'd never really liked it - what teenage boy did? - but now the mild annoyance he usually felt had been magnified by ten. They’d tried to keep everything a secret, but gossip spread at lightning speed and it wasn’t long before everyone knew about poor Spencer Smith and his Trauma. Spencer was sure he could hear the capital letter.With a sigh, he slowly began to make his way to the door. Dragging his feet would only make Ryan late, and with all the time he’d been taking off to stay with Spencer, there was no way the school could continue overlooking his absences. He stopped when he was face-to-face with Ryan, the toes of their sneakers nearly pressed together, and took a moment to watch his friend carefully, in much the same way that Ryan had taken to watching him. What he saw made him come to a realisation that he didn't care for: Ryan looked like hell, and not once in the last two weeks had Spencer taken the time to worry about him. It was a new feeling, this selfishness, and Spencer almost felt ashamed of it.Ryan obviously wasn't eating properly, which made Spencer wonder just what he was doing with the leftovers he was being forced to take home. His face had gone pale, which accentuated the darkness under his eyes. Spencer's fingers were moving before he could stop them, barely grazing one of the shadowy bruises. Ryan's eyes fell closed for a moment, dark lashes sweeping down to tickle against Spencer's fingertips.He's so tired, Spencer thought. But at least it's not as bad as….He didn’t even try to finish the thought this time; there was no sense in setting himself up for disappointment. He'd been chasing the end of that thought for days, running in circles and never able to actually catch it.“Let’s go,” Ryan said. His stepped aside, giving Spencer just enough room to pass. His hand was warm when it settled against Spencer’s back, ushering him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.His mother was waiting to take them to school.Spencer walked into his homeroom and immediately turned around and walked right back out. Ryan apparently had better reflexes than Spencer had given him credit for, because he easily caught Spencer by the shoulders, spun him around, and shoved him forward again.“They’re looking at me,” Spencer said, trying to be subtle about digging his heels in to stop his forward progression.“Of course they are,” Ryan hissed, shoving harder. “You’re causing a scene.”Spencer supposed that was true, but it didn’t stop him from hating Ryan a little as he stopped fighting and allowed himself to be marched back into the classroom.“I’ll see you in math, okay?” Ryan said as he pressed down on Spencer’s shoulders, forcing him to sit in his regular seat near the door. Spencer nodded, his eyes trained on the scarred desktop in front of him. His fingers reached out, tracing the two angular letters carved in the laminate. SS, his initials. He didn’t remember doing it.“Spencer?” Ryan asked again.“Yeah,” Spencer replied. “Math.”“Mr. Ross. You are going to be late.”Spencer looked up to see his homeroom teacher frowning at them. In any other situation, Spencer would have rolled his eyes and shoved Ryan toward the door, told him to hurry his skinny ass up so he didn’t end up with detention. Instead, Spencer had to clench his fingers around the edge of the desk to stop from grabbing Ryan’s arm, keeping him right where he was.“Math,” Ryan repeated firmly. Spencer nodded. He didn’t look up as Ryan left the room, the sound of his running footsteps and another teacher’s reprimand echoing down the hallway.Homeroom passed in a blur as Spencer continued to stare at the initials on his desk. He was moving on autopilot as the bell rang, collecting his books and shuffling out of the classroom in a daze. He made it to his math class before Ryan did, falling into his regular seat and piling his books on the one next to him to stop anyone else from sitting there.Ryan appeared a few moments later, grumbling under his breath about bitchy, unreasonable teachers and the detentions they doled out. Spencer knew he should make a joke – the words were right there on the tip of his tongue – but he kept quiet, fiddling instead with the coil of his notebook. Ryan’s gaze was a weight he could feel, heavy with questions he obviously didn’t think he could ask. Spencer was incredibly grateful for his restraint.The class filled up quickly, the other students making no attempt to hide their curious glances. Spencer resolutely did not look up, instead busying himself by opening his notebook. As he paged through the book, he came across a small triangle of paper stuck to the bottom of the coil. Something had been torn out of his book. It could be completely innocent, Spencer knew. Maybe he’d rewritten his notes, or maybe his mother had needed something for her grocery list. It could mean absolutely nothing, but as Spencer ran his fingertips along the ragged, torn edge, he didn’t think he believed that.“Mr. Smith, welcome back,” Ms. Crenshaw remarked as she walked into the room. Spencer scowled at his notebook and clenched his pencil tighter in his hand, its hexagonal edges digging into his fingers, turning the skin white with the force of his grip. Beside him, Spencer knew he could count on Ryan’s identical reaction.Good, he thought. Maybe it’ll keep anyone else from commenting.Spencer didn’t bother to pay attention to the lesson. He doodled in the margins of his notebook for a little while, shapeless lines that didn’t look like anything at all. Now and then Ryan would lean over and scribble some snarky comment about the teacher, but Spencer didn't always reply. After awhile, he gave up on drawing and turned toward the window. It was a nice day, sunny and warm, and Spencer propped his chin on his hand to stare outside. It wasn’t long before his eyes went unfocused, his stare glassy, though he wasn't completely lost in thought this time, most likely because he didn't prod at the gaping hole in his mind, as though he could somehow will his memories back through sheer determination. He just wished he was outside.The sensations began so slowly that Spencer didn’t even realize what was happening at first. He ran his hand idly down his arm, chasing the faint tickling sensation without giving it much thought. It wasn’t until it didn’t go away, until it began to grow stronger, that Spencer slowly turned away from the window and stared at his arm. There was nothing there, but he swore that he could feel drops of water rolling down his skin. He rubbed his arm harder this time, his blunt nails leaving red trails before he curled his fingers into a fist to stop from scratching himself. He didn’t stop rubbing, digging his knuckles harder into the muscle.“Mr. Smith, are you alright?”The teacher’s voice was loud enough to startle Spencer. He jerked his hand away from his arm as though he’d been caught doing something horribly private in a public place. All eyes were turned toward him and Spencer stared down at the desk so he didn’t have to meet any of them, not even Ryan’s.“I need to go to the infirmary,” Spencer mumbled. It would draw more attention to him, but at least he’d be able to get away. He collected his things and quickly got to his feet. Ryan made to follow him, but Ms. Crenshaw stopped him.“Mr. Ross,” she said sternly. “If you want to graduate next month, I suggest taking your seat. You’ve already missed enough of my class this semester.”Spencer didn’t stay around to hear Ryan’s response.-*-The cracked asphalt tore through his jeans, scraping away a layer of skin in a bright flare of pain. Spencer's arms came up to protect his head as the momentum caused his body to tumble across the empty parking lot, raising deep bruises wherever he came into contact with the ground. As he came dangerously close to a lamp post, Spencer brought his legs up underneath his torso, knees against his chest, in an effort to stop the roll and get back to his feet. It took him two tries to stand, and even then his sneakers slid against the wet ground, nearly sending him back down again. His knees hurt and the feel of blood sliding down his shins made his stomach churn, but Spencer forced himself to put it all out of his mind. He had to keep moving, to push himself faster. The woman - no, not a woman but something else entirely - wasn't far away and he'd long ago lost track of her companion. It was a stupid mistake to make, but he’d moved so quickly that Spencer's eyes hadn't been able to keep up. Besides, he'd been a little preoccupied with the thing that had gone for his throat. His legs were shaky, but Spencer continued to run. He couldn't hear anything over the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears, but he didn't chance a look over his shoulder. His balance was precarious at best and the last thing he needed was to trip over his own feet. Spencer had never been particularly athletic, something he regretted as his lungs screamed for air and his thighs protested the exertion. He tried not to focus on it, not to let it distract him, but he could feel the exhaustion in his limbs and knew he was slowing down. No... no! Spencer thought wildly, pushing for another burst of speed, dismayed when he realized he just didn't have it in him. The feel of fingers scraping along his back, twisting in his shirt, made him scream. It was the kind of high, terrified sound that Spencer never knew he was capable of. He hit the ground again and was given a vicious kick to his side. The breath left Spencer's lungs in a painful rush and his body curled up in a useless attempt to protect itself. "They always run," a voice somewhere above Spencer remarked. Spencer's eyes were tightly closed but he recognized the guy he'd lost track of. Spencer wanted to look up at him, to face what was coming like a man, but found that he was fresh out of courage. Instead, he stayed on the ground, huddled up and telling himself that the wetness on his face was only the rain. It wasn't fair, he wanted to say. Ryan was still out there somewhere, wandering around bad places, obviously searching for something, and who would look after him if Spencer couldn't? He hadn't done a particularly good job of it lately - Ryan hadn't let him since he was always blowing Spencer off these days - but Spencer hadn't stopped being his best friend because of it. Why else would he be in this part of town at night, all alone with no one to know where he was? A hand in his hair jerked Spencer's head back, forcing his gaze up so that he was face to face with the vampire. Hysterical laughter threatened to bubble up, but Spencer kept his mouth firmly closed against it. Vampire. A motherfucking vampire. What the hell had happened to the world that he was actually using that word? Spencer's head was twisted painfully to the side, the movement exposing the fluttering pulse in the side of his neck. He whimpered a little when the vampire moved closer, the sound sending a wash of humiliation through him. He wouldn't beg, he told himself. He wouldn't, wouldn't, wouldn't.... Movement in the darkness caught his attention. Spencer's eyes widened as someone stepped out of the shadows, pausing in the spill of light from the lamp post. Spencer opened his mouth to yell, to warn the newcomer away, but that was when he caught sight of the way the man moved. His steps were fluid, graceful. He was nothing at all like Spencer, a 17 year old kid still getting used to his awkward arms and legs. He was one of them. "You're far from home, Travis." The words were deceptively light, but even Spencer, with his hair in his face and his head craned at such an awkward angle, could see that this newcomer was not amused.He was ridiculously well dressed for this part of town, looking put-together in a dark suit, blue shirt and matching tie. He wore an actual fucking hat and shoes polished so brightly that Spencer was sure he'd be able to see his reflection if the vampire came any closer. "No farther than you," the man who held Spencer - Travis - remarked. "Everywhere is Dandy territory," the well-dressed vampire said simply. "Don't let anyone else hear you say that, Jon Walker," Travis advised. His fingers tightened in Spencer's hair, pulling his head back another inch. Spencer winced and did his best to curve his spine, to minimize the strain on his neck. "They don't matter," the one named Jon Walker said lightly. "What does is the boy you've got your hands on. I'd like you to let him go." He said it as though it was a simple thing - He'd made the request and Travis would just do it without question. His expression remained calm, and Spencer couldn't figure out what it was that made him think there would be no argument. Travis' face was the complete opposite - his eyes were dark and there was an angry frown tugging at his mouth. He looked like he was about to refuse. For a moment, Spencer's imagination ran wild and images flashed before his eyes: himself, being thrown over Travis' shoulder, dragged away never to be seen again. Or worse yet, being caught in the middle if a fight did break out between the two vampires. In the end it was the woman who made the decision. She tugged urgently at Travis' sleeve, her gaze flitting from Spencer to Travis, to the air beside Jon's head, and then back to Spencer again. Finally, Travis relented, releasing his hold on Spencer's hair. Spencer wasted no time scrabbling away, intent on getting to his feet, but one look from the well-dressed vampire kept him on his knees. The scrapes stung as dirt ground into the torn skin, but he kept silent. Though Travis didn't make any other move toward Spencer, he wasn't entirely willing to give up the argument. "He's not marked," he growled. "No, but he doesn't have to be. Not tonight," Jon said. Spencer had no idea what they were talking about, but he knew it couldn't be good. "You Dandies say you enforce the rules, but all you do is break them," Travis spat. His eyes went slightly unfocused for a moment, and Spencer wondered what slight, real or imagined, he was remembering. "Bending," Jon corrected. "Not breaking. There's a difference." "Not much," Travis said. "You have no claim and yet you expect me to just walk away." "It's ultimately your decision," Jon said with a shrug. "It's always been your decision to leave us to our games. Like you said, I don't have a claim on this boy. Technically, you could take him if you wanted to." Spencer's eyes flew up to the vampire's face. Words tangled on his tongue, sentiments that he had no idea how to voice. How could he, when he didn't even know what he should be begging for? To be kept away from Travis? To stay with Jon? To go home again? Somehow, he didn't think that last one was an option. "Do what you have to do, Travis," Jon continued. "But know that I can make your life very difficult if this is the choice you make." His small, sweet smile was quite possibly the most unsettling thing Spencer had ever seen. "Take him," Travis hissed. He kicked out, catching Spencer in the small of his back. He fell onto his belly, scraping his palms as he tried to keep himself from going face first into Jon's wingtips. "I will," Jon said. It was a promise, that much was clear. An unfamiliar feeling began to gnaw at Spencer's stomach but he did his best not to focus on it. He stayed where he was until the last of Travis and his companion's footsteps disappeared. Even then, he was too afraid to move, no matter how much he desperately wanted to see the expression on the vampire’s face. In the end, he didn't have to look up at all. Jon knelt down in front of him, helping Spencer to a sitting position before tipping his face back so they were eye to eye. "Are you alright?" Jon asked. It took Spencer a few moments to process the question, momentarily distracted by the absurdity of the shiver that raced down his spine at the touch of fingers on his face. "Yes?" Spencer asked. Jon laughed quietly. "Glad we cleared that up," he said. He reached into his pocket and drew out a white linen handkerchief. He shook out its crisp folds, the movement of his hands drawing Spencer's gaze in an almost hypnotizing fashion. The vampire noticed his reaction and a small, almost secret smile appeared as he took Spencer's hands and wiped the small rocks from the shallow scrapes on his palms. Once he'd finished with that, Jon gently drew Spencer's legs out in front of him so he could see the ripped jeans and bloody knees. Spencer hissed as Jon cleaned away the rocks and dirt before firmly pressing the handkerchief to first one torn knee and then the other. He wanted to pull away but forced himself to stay still. He had no idea what the vampire was playing at, but there was only one way to find out. "I think you'll live," Jon said after he was finished. He folded up the handkerchief and slid it back into his jacket pocket. "I'm... what?" Spencer stammered. "Let's get you home," Jon said, continuing on as though Spencer hadn't interrupted. "I'm sure someone will miss you soon." "Wait... what?" "A cab, I think." Jon pulled Spencer to his feet, hands hovering near his waist as Spencer wobbled a little. With a hand firmly against the small of his back, just above the throbbing bruise left by Travis' boot, Jon Walker lead Spencer across the parking lot, toward the main road. Spencer wanted to tell him that he'd never find a cab around here, not in the middle of the night, but the words died on his tongue as one actually pulled up to the curb. The driver waited patiently as they slowly made their way closer, Spencer still unsteady on his feet. Jon opened the door and helped Spencer inside before turning to the driver and rattling off Spencer's address. "How do you know that?" Spencer meant for the words to be a demand, but they came out barely above a whisper, his eyes wide and still more than a little frightened. Jon leaned in closer, speaking only for Spencer's ears. "I know a lot of things," he said. "Where you live, who your friends are, what your bedroom looks like. I even know what you dream about."They were nothing more than the regular dreams that any teenage boy had, nothing to be embarrassed about, but the thought of this man seeing the way they left him shaking, with dirty sheets to deal with, made him feel awkward and humiliated. Jon laughed softly. "Go home, Spencer Smith. This isn't the best part of town for a boy like you." Jon closed the door and the cab pulled smoothly away from the curb.Jon Walker blinked twice and the landscape around him came back into focus. He was still near the park, but now there was no rain soaking into his suit, the wet asphalt no longer a slippery hazard to be navigated with care. The night air was warmer and, most importantly, the human boy was long gone.Jon tucked the stolen memories aside, keeping them secret and safe, and turned his attention back to the matter at hand.William Beckett looked at him curiously, though Jon was certain he’d never ask about what had just happened. Centuries of service – to the city’s previous leader as well as to Beckett himself – had earned the elder Dandy a considerable amount of leeway. He would just have to take care not to let the memories float up, unbidden, again.“The boy looks fine,” Jon said, replying to the question Beckett had asked moments before he’d been drawn into the memory. “If he’s been having more premonitions, they’re certainly not as strong as they were with Gerard and Frank.”Beckett didn’t bother to ask if Jon had been seen by either Ryan or Brendon. He didn't know if this was because Beckett had enough confidence in Jon's ability to do the jobs assigned to him without being caught, or because he had a fair amount of respect for one of his elders regardless of rank, but it didn't really matter. Jon wouldn’t have bothered to answer if the question had been posed, and all the good will in the world wouldn’t allow Beckett to overlook that kind of impertinence. Jon had no interest in becoming an example to others, not for something as ridiculous as slighted feelings.Another questioning look came over Beckett’s face and he took a moment to regard Jon with dark eyes. Jon looked back impassively, waiting to see if Beckett felt the thought was worth voicing. Whether he did or not rarely had anything to do with the importance of the things that struck him; he seemed to make such decisions based on how much he felt like needling the target of his interest.After a moment, he decided against sharing and shook his head, a slow, almost knowing smile spreading across his face. It worried Jon a little. Beckett looked as though he'd just figured something out and that could never be good.“Then the night is yours,” Beckett murmured with an elegant wave of his hand. “I’ll leave you to your games, Jon Walker. I have some of my own to see to.”Jon nodded, hiding his confusion, and watched as Beckett made his way toward the parking lot, where his car waited. He climbed into the backseat and waved cheekily as the driver pulled out onto the main road. Jon stayed where he was until the car faded from sight.He wondered just what Beckett meant by his parting comment.-*-It was just after eleven when Spencer pushed back the covers and slid forward, swinging his feet to the floor. He sat at the edge of his bed for a few moments, blinking in the darkness of his bedroom as he tried to figure out what had woken him. The house was silent; even the dogs were still sleeping. Spencer was used to being the only one awake – he'd been a night owl even before things had gotten so strange. Still, he’d spent the last week wandering the house in the middle of the night, stopping at each window he came across, and staring at the night sky outside.Spencer stretched his arms high above his head, arching his back against the sweet burn of muscles left too long in one position. He got to his feet and was halfway into his jeans before he realised what he was doing. He paused for a moment, his fingertip playing over the button on his pants before making up his mind. He pulled the jeans up over his hips and fastened them quickly before grabbing a pair of shoes and making his way toward the window.It was stupid, really, to swing his legs over the sill, hold onto the window frame, and let his body drop down to the grass below. He could have walked out the front door and not risked a broken ankle, but it just didn’t feel right to go out any other way. He was limping a little as he made his way to the sidewalk, but Spencer didn't really mind. The pain felt good; it helped him to focus on where he was, what he was doing. He’d gotten tired of thinking so hard that he zoned out, coming back to reality only when someone started to worry about the far-off look in his eyes. There was no one here to look out for him and the last thing Spencer wanted to do was walk out in front of a car.He hadn’t had a destination in mind when he started walking, but Spencer stopped in his tracks and let out a shaky breath when he caught sight of the Sampson Bridge. There was an inexplicable, hollow feeling in his stomach, like he was about to miss out on something important because he’d been just a moment too slow. Spencer shook his head and started walking again, hurrying even though he had no idea why. He’d never spent much time at the bridge, and had rarely given it a second thought all the times he’d crossed it to get to Ryan’s. People tended to say it separated the good part of town from the bad part, even though there were sketchy areas all over the city.He walked with purpose, moving onto the shoulder of the road, carefully making his way over the gravel that lined the asphalt. He found the path that led beneath the bridge and took careful steps, his arms held out at his sides for balance. It was dark; the light from the streetlamps didn’t make it that far down, and there was no telling what might have been thrown onto the path. Spencer moved slowly, putting one foot directly in front of the other, counting each step as he did.It was exactly fifty steps to the far support pillar. Spencer leaned against it and listened to the far off sounds of traffic from a few streets over. It was almost peaceful there, though Spencer had heard stories of homeless people and petty thugs who often hung out around the bridge. He was alone, though, with nothing and no one to spoil the night. Spencer leaned his head against the pillar and closed his eyes, enjoying the way the light breeze played across his face.Unlike earlier at school, Spencer was able to pinpoint the exact moment when the feeling started. It was light, gentle and almost tickling. As the sensation grew stronger, it became a caress along the back of his neck, the phantom touch making its way across his shoulder and down his arm. Invisible fingers slid between his, holding his hand. Spencer drew in a shaky breath before allowing himself to follow the sensation, his fingertips just brushing the back of his hand. He could barely even feel it, it was probably all in his head, and yet it still felt so damn good. Spencer sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he knew what, exactly, it was. He searched his memories again, sifting though events that might match the sensations, but only came up against the black hole in his mind once more.With a frustrated noise, Spencer opened his eyes and stepped away from the pillar. Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and Spencer quickly turned toward it, his heart pounding at the thought of someone sneaking up on him. He peered into the darkness for several long minutes, not daring to move a muscle. Once he realised there was no one there, Spencer's body relaxed by degrees until, finally, he sighed and looked at his watch. It was well after midnight and he had school in the morning.Rubbing his forehead a little, trying to soothe the ache, Spencer hurried back up to the road. He took the path nearest to where he was standing, not bothering to double back to use the one he'd originally taken. He didn’t look back, so he never saw the well-dressed young man step out from the shadows, watching Spencer’s every move with an unsettling intensity.-*-Jon Walker watched as the boy made his way back up to the road. He slipped on the loose gravel, his arms pinwheeling in an effort to stay on his feet, but the vampire didn't offer any assistance. For a moment, he thought Spencer would turn around, choose to go back the way he’d come, preferring the easier path he’d taken earlier. Jon didn’t dwell on the vague feelings of disappointment he felt when the boy managed to right himself and continue on his way.What was he doing there? The bridge hadn’t been part of his original routine; there was no reason for him to be visiting. Any association with the bridge should have been erased with the rest of Spencer’s memories. For the first time in his long life, Jon Walker wondered if maybe his talents had begun to fail him. It was an unsettling thought; his kind was judged on the reliability of their gifts. If he couldn’t even remove himself from the memories of a young human, how would he prove useful to Beckett?Of course, he hadn’t exactly had the time to make sure he’d gotten everything in the first place. The sunrise hadn't been far off and though he’d spent hours with Spencer that night, he’d been reluctant to break away from slow, sweet kisses and so much warm, pale skin. It had been a rare moment of weakness on Jon’s part, a trait he was not used to dealing with. Failure was another alien concept for him. If tonight was any indication, it seemed as though he'd have to get used to that one as well. Spencer's return to Sampson Bridge meant there was still some residual echo of memory buried in his mind.Jon long ago lost track of how many memories he’d stolen, though he figured that almost half of what he had didn’t actually belong to him. His talent had manifested quickly, and control had been unusually easy to come by. His sire gave him all the best books, many lessons and much practice, but none of it had been necessary. Jon Walker’s power had simply been an extension of himself, as easy to use as a scalpel in his hand. The only things he needed to pull the memories away, to draw them into his own mind, were direct eye contact, determination, and a little time. He’d done rush jobs before – sometimes speed was of the utmost importance – but he’d never wavered in his convictions. Humans and vampires alike had begged and pleaded, but Jon had ignored them all. It was unsettling to know that all it had taken to get under his skin was a pair of accusing blue eyes.He’d have to keep an eye on the situation. Spencer's memories were well and truly gone, but if some small scrap did remain, it could prove difficult to explain for Jon. The last thing he wanted was for his boy to stumble into the middle of a vampire gang while he chased half-remembered places and events.Jon resolutely ignored the nasty voice in his head that reminded him of things he'd rather not remember, namely that the kid was no longer his responsibility, that it had ended the minute Jon pushed him away. For his own good or not, it didn’t matter – Spencer Smith belonged to himself again, and if Jon was smart, he’d take a giant step back and let the human fend for himself. No good could possibly come from getting close to him once more. Gerard might have left, but Beckett wasn’t going anywhere, and he still hadn’t lost his fascination with Brendon’s boy. Jon was not going to have Spencer become the new distraction, not after the lengths he'd gone to in order to keep the kid safe.Letting go had been surprisingly difficult for someone who’d never had much thought for possessions. Jon hadn’t been raised to want. Survival was, after all, about priorities and compartmentalizing. Self restraint. Jon knew this, he believed it, so it really should have been easy to go back to the way things had been for two and a half centuries. It should have been, but it wasn’t. After all, he’d come back to the bridge for much the same reasons as Spencer.It was mildly horrifying to realize that two weeks had managed to undo so much teaching and instinct.Even knowing that it was a bad idea, Jon set off along the path, sticking to the shadows as he quietly followed Spencer. The boy was still rubbing his arm and Jon wondered what he was feeling. He forced himself to stay in the here and now, to not get lost in the memories and find out for himself. True, they were in Dandy territory, but he wasn't about to take any chances with the Hood and Punk borders so close.The trip back was uneventful, and as Jon watched the boy climb carefully up the trellis, attempting to do minimal damage to the Morning Glories growing there, he told himself that the immediate danger was passed and there was no reason to stay.The realization didn’t stop him from watching the window long after the light went out and the human’s breathing evened out into sleep.-*-The next day dragged as Spencer went from class to class, doing his best to ignore the continued stares from his classmates and the pitying looks from his teachers. He didn’t have math that day, and since it was his only class with Ryan, Spencer didn’t even have that buffer between himself and everyone's prying eyes. He kept his head down and counted down the minutes until the next bell.Dinner with his family wasn’t much better. Everyone tried to keep the mood up, his grandmother especially, but Spencer did his best to block out their voices, pretending that his uneaten mashed potatoes were the most fascinating thing he’d seen all day. All he could think about was getting away. He’d almost ditched school after third period, but a quiet voice at the back of his mind stopped him at the last minute. He'd stopped in his tracks, one hand on the heavy door of the emergency exit, the other holding tightly to the left strap of his backpack.Wait.The word had been said quietly, but forcefully, making Spencer turn away and dutifully head for his next class, sliding into his seat before the bell.He’d been waiting for hours now, though he wasn’t completely sure for what. There was a tension in his shoulders that was noticeable to anyone who looked. His mother had set her hands on them, pushing down in an effort to make him relax enough so that they weren’t up around his ears. He’d let her fuss over him, more so she wouldn’t worry and bother him later than because he thought it would actually work. He knew that the only way to deal with the tension was to stop fighting the urge to just get up and go. The longer he sat there, the worse it got.Spencer managed to wait until dessert was over before mumbling his excuses and heading up to bed. His parents began to whisper about him as he left, making Spencer clench his fists to keep from hitting something."The doctors say it’s only a matter of time,” his mother said reassuringly.The doctor’s don’t know shit, Spencer thought darkly. They’re all talking out of their asses.It quickly became painfully obvious that no one knew what had happened to him. Doctors prefaced their comments with terms like, “We suspect…” and “There’s a theory….” None of that amounted to real answers, and so Spencer had taken it upon himself to figure it out. He decided to listen to the urges, to pay attention to the little voice in his head. After all, it was the only thing that made the tension melt away.Spencer wasted no time in hurrying over to the window. The sun had set half an hour ago, and the voice in his head was urging him on now. He swung his legs over the sill and dropped down to the grass below. Instead of walking aimlessly, he set out for the bridge, walking quickly with long, purposeful strides. The ache in his muscles drained away as he went, disappearing completely as he stepped off the sidewalk and onto the gravel path that led below the bridge.He wasn’t alone this time and Spencer couldn’t suppress his sigh of frustration as he caught sight of the addict slumped against the support pillar. It wasn’t fair, he wanted to yell. This place was the key - he knew it - and he just needed time to puzzle it out, to close his eyes and let the sensations come. They were stronger there, and even though Spencer was a realist, he couldn’t help but believe that he’d get to the bottom of it all if he was persistent enough.“Hey. Hey man….” The woman on the ground slowly turned toward Spencer, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “Can you help a girl out?”Spencer didn’t bother to answer. He turned on his heel and hurried back up to the road. He had no desire to return home, so he continued down the sidewalk, crossing the bridge and heading toward Ryan’s. He didn’t think Ryan would be home, but there was a park near his apartment. If nothing else, Spencer could sit on the merry-go-round and watch the world spin for a little while.-*-The bridge was hardly the most pleasant place to be, but he didn’t actively hate it like he knew the others did. It was dirty – the mud clung to his shoes when he got too close to the water, and the smell of filthy humans hung all about the place. He did his best to ignore the smell, to pull better thoughts around himself and focus on those instead: Blue eyes and a shy smile, a pretty blush and an upturned face. He should keep his attention on the matter at hand – on the danger at hand – but for a moment, he allowed himself that small indulgence. His face was schooled into its blankest expression as he turned his back to the informant, all thoughts of his boy tucked away, when he caught sight of someone who didn’t belong. The small human was standing maybe a hundred yards from the group of vampires, behind them and slightly to the left. The kid looked like hell, which raised an alarm in the vampire's mind. The two were thick as thieves in even the best circumstances, and he knew it would be doubly so if one of them was having trouble. He couldn’t help but worry that Spencer might have given in to his irrational feelings of responsibility and followed Ryan on his ridiculous outing.Just like that, his calm façade bled away, replaced with a grim look as he turned his eyes back to Beckett and wondered how long it would take him to notice their visitor.Ryan bolted upright on the sofa, nearly losing his balance and landing on the floor. His heart was pounding as he looked around wildly, taking in the bland décor of his apartment and feeling incredibly relieved to realize that he was nowhere near the bridge. He rubbed at his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart against his palm, and forced himself to take deep breaths to calm himself down.That night at the bridge felt like a lifetime ago, but Ryan knew that it had been only a few short weeks – definitely no more than two months. So much had changed in that time that he’d nearly forgotten the finer details of his search for Brendon, but he was positive that no one had ever mentioned seeing him that night. Brendon would probably have told him, or Ryan could have figured it out on his own. He instinctively knew that things would have been even worse for both him and Brendon if someone had said something.Ryan saw himself through the other vampire’s eyes once again, made note of his tired expression, his even skinnier limbs, and the bruises beneath his eyes, and knew without a doubt that his vision had shown the past instead of the future. There was no way that he was seeing some future disturbance that just happened to have him once again at Sampson Bridge. Someone had seen him but hadn’t said a word about it. That could only mean ulterior motives. Ryan wondered just what they'd have to pay in return for the silence.That thought brought him to an even more distressing matter: the vampire had called Spencer by name. Knowing Ryan was understandable - Beckett would have considered it good practice to send someone to watch him and Brendon - but there was absolutely no reason for this other vampire to know Spencer. Or to be worrying about his whereabouts.“Fuck,” Ryan said, rubbing his forehead where a headache was starting. He dropped his hand and looked over at the clock on the wall. It was nearly nine; if he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late. He pulled himself to his feet and reached for the hoodie he’d left on the back of the couch.He forced himself to take slow, even steps. Somehow – he just knew it - Brendon would be able to tell if Ryan ran all the way to meet him.Their meeting spot was nowhere near a midway point between Ryan’s apartment and the Dandy safe house, but that didn’t stop him from suggesting it when he’d spoken with Brendon earlier in the evening. He’d been happy when Brendon called; he hadn’t seen him much in the last week, and not at all in the last three days. His reaction to the phone call had surprised him; even after everything they’d dealt with, it was still strange to realize that he’d come to enjoy Brendon's company.Brewar Park was about fifteen minutes from Ryan’s neighbourhood. It would be a nice walk back, he knew. Brendon was capable of turning anything into foreplay and Ryan found himself breathing harder just thinking about light touches to his arm, shoulder, the back of his neck….He refused to think about the dream.He made the trip in less than ten minutes and found himself insanely glad that he couldn’t see Brendon anywhere. Maybe he wasn’t there yet. Maybe Ryan wouldn’t have to endure hours of teasing.“Hey.”Maybe Ryan had an incredibly uncharitable thought about his best friend before he tamped it down and turned around.Spencer was sitting on the merry-go-round, digging idly in the sand with a stick. His legs were crossed and his shoulders hunched over. He stared at the dirt as though it held the answers he was looking for.“Hey,” Ryan said, making his way to the other boy. He spun the merry-go-round a little and hopped on. It moved slowly as Ryan sat down, his back to one of the rails, one bony knee pressing into Spencer’s side. “This is a long way from home for you. You should have told me you were coming over. I would have met you somewhere.”“You’ve already spent a lot of time with me, Ryan. Your best friend duties have been fulfilled for the rest of our lives,” Spencer said, dropping the stick and rubbing at the back of his neck.“It’s not a duty, Spence,” Ryan said. “It’s something I want to do.” It was true. Despite the momentary flash of annoyance at the thought of his ruined plans – something that was going to eat away at Ryan forever, he knew – he wanted to spend the time with Spencer, to help him feel better bit by bit. How often had Spencer been there for him over the years? Nothing Brendon did – not marking him, not fucking him – could ever compare to that.They sat in silence, spinning slowly. When they stopped, Ryan pushed off with one foot against the ground, sending them around once more.“I was just walking,” Spencer said after a few minutes. “Sometimes… sometimes I think I’ll be able to remember. If I keep going, if I try harder….”“Keep going where?” Ryan asked quietly, his hands tugging lightly on the hem of Spencer’s shirt. He thought about his dream again and couldn’t help but silently plead, Not the bridge. Not the bridge, Spence….“Just places,” Spencer said vaguely.“Well, that certainly clears that up,” a rich voice remarked. Ryan looked up and glared at Brendon, wondering how long he’d been standing there, wishing he’d stayed away. The last thing he wanted to do was expose Spencer to a vampire.Another vampire, Ryan’s mind whispered as he turned to look at Spencer. He called you his boy, Ryan thought. What have you been keeping from me?Ryan pretended he didn't feel like a hypocrite.-*-Brendon took his time walking down the path, enjoying not only the stillness and quiet of the night around him, but also the sense of anticipation. He knew the moment Ryan entered the park, the connection between them growing stronger as he approached. The sensation low in his belly was almost soothing. After his three long days of errands for Beckett and Ryan’s nearly-constant presence at his friend’s side, Brendon had grown impatient. So, it seemed, had Ryan. Brendon laughed as he realised that Ryan was rushing to meet him. The connection was growing stronger at a very quick pace; there was no way the boy was moving at his regular speed.The path cut through a copse of trees and Brendon hid in the shadows, wanting to take a moment to just watch. He so rarely got to observe Ryan while he was awake now and, though Brendon wasn’t likely to admit it, he missed being able to look his fill without having Ryan grow snappish. With a sigh, Brendon realised that his plans were about to be ruined. He leaned against the nearest tree and scowled.There was someone sitting hunched over on the merry-go-round, digging in the sand with a stick. Brendon recognized him immediately – even if he hadn’t once interrogated the kid, he’d watched Ryan run off with him enough in the last two weeks. Spencer Smith was far from home and he was upset enough that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. It was dangerous to do in any city, really, but was doubly so in Beckett’s.The boy rubbed at his forehead a little before sitting up straight to stretch his muscles. He arched his back and, lacing his fingers tightly together, reached his arms high above his head. A soft moan reached Brendon’s ears and the vampire smiled a little at the breathy sound. As he came out of the stretch, Spencer’s eyes fluttered open and Brendon felt the smile freeze on his face.…Such pretty blue eyes….Brendon could hear Gerard’s voice as clearly as if the other vampire had been whispering in his ear. He watched as long lashes swept down again, hiding his eyes as the boy once again focused on the little hole he was digging.I saw them from across the street.No, Brendon thought. It was coincidence, nothing more. There were hundreds of boys with lovely blue eyes in the city. And even if there weren’t, it was none of Brendon’s business. He’d learned early to keep his head down when it came to his elders and their extracurricular activities.He watched as Ryan appeared at the other end of the path, hurrying much the way Brendon had figured he was. He allowed himself a small smile and waited for the moment that Ryan realised he wasn’t alone. The boy didn’t disappoint, going momentarily still when Spencer called out to him. Brendon nearly laughed at the flash of annoyance in his eyes and made note to bring it up every time Ryan pretended that he didn’t want Brendon around.Ryan made his way to the merry-go-round, spinning it slowly before climbing on and sitting next to the other boy. They spoke quietly, though Brendon could still hear most of it. It was so different to watch Ryan with Spencer. He never gave this much of his attention to anyone else, never bothered with the problems of others. Ryan was sad, Brendon could tell. Sad and worried. He had a lovely heart and an incredible amount of love for his best friend. It made Ryan who he was, and Brendon would safeguard that at all costs.“Just places,” Spencer said as Brendon pushed away from the tree and quickly closed the distance between himself and the humans.“Well, that certainly clears that up,” Brendon replied with a smile as he slid his hands into his pockets. Ryan glared up at him for interrupting, but Brendon paid the expression no mind. Spencer was staring at him, taking in his clothes with eyes that were far more interested than they should be. Brendon filed the thought away for later.“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asked, turning his attention back to Ryan. The boy’s mutinous look grew darker and Brendon blew him a kiss. Brendon knew he didn’t imagine the way Ryan’s gaze briefly dropped to his mouth before returning to his eyes.“Spencer, this is Brendon. He likes to lurk,” Ryan said.“Ryan Ross, that’s not very nice. I can do so much more than lurk. Would you like me to make a list?” He opened his mouth dramatically, waiting for Ryan to protest. He didn’t disappoint.“No!” he exclaimed.Spencer was looking from Ryan to Brendon with curious eyes. There was something he wanted to say, Brendon could tell, but years of secret-keeping on Ryan’s behalf kept him from coming out and putting it into words.He could definitely see why Ryan cared so much about him.“I need to go home,” Spencer said finally, disentangling himself from his cross-legged position. His legs were a little wobbly when he stood up, but he managed to stay on his feet.“Are you sure?” Ryan asked, standing along with him, prepared to follow if necessary.Brendon reminded himself that he liked Ryan’s compassion. Also, that throwing the boy over his shoulder would not produce the desired results.“Yeah,” Spencer said, waving Ryan away. “I’ve been gone awhile already. Someone’s going to notice soon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”“Okay….” Ryan said uncertainly. Brendon took the opportunity to grab his sleeve and draw him closer. Ryan resisted at first, but when Spencer didn’t turn around again, steadily making his way back toward the road, he finally gave in.“Come on, let’s go,” Brendon urged.“I’m not in the mood anymore,” Ryan said flatly.“That’s okay,” Brendon replied. “I have fifteen minutes to change your mind.”And he would, Brendon knew. Ryan was incredibly easy to get worked up. Any combination of caresses to the back of his neck, a hand down his arm, whispered words in his ear or fingers carded through his hair would do the trick. Brendon intended to try them all.They spent the walk back to Ryan’s apartment in silence. By the time they got there, Ryan was half-leaning on Brendon, body all pliant and flexible just the way Brendon liked it. They got the elevator to themselves, most likely because of the dark look Brendon gave a tenant with several heavy shopping bags than due to any politeness on the part of Ryan’s neighbour. Ryan didn’t notice; he was too busy licking a line up the side of Brendon’s throat.The hallway was long and Brendon seriously considered just pushing Ryan up against the wall. Only the yapping from the Pomeranian in apartment 6 E stopped him.Ryan finally got the door open on the third try and Brendon wasted no time in crowding him and pushing him inside. They only made it to the bedroom because Brendon finally did give in to his urge to put Ryan over his shoulder. The boy squeaked and put up a token protest, but all complaints ceased when he was tossed down onto the bed.There wasn’t much talking after that. Brendon considered it a small victory.-*-He knew the minute the dream started. Ryan went from relaxed and pliant to so tense that his body was trembling with the stress. Brendon set aside the book he was reading and turned his attention to the boy asleep beside him. Ryan’s eyes were moving beneath closed lids, his hands fisted in the blanket that Brendon had drawn up around his skinny shoulders only a few minutes earlier.“Ryan?” Brendon murmured, stroking a few strands of hair out of the boy’s face. There was no response, but Brendon hadn’t really expected one; the dream held Ryan too strongly in its grip for that. He’d seen this enough times to know that Ryan would wake when it was over and not a moment before.It was nowhere near as violent as some of Ryan’s other visions. There was no thrashing, no screaming or tears on his face. He stayed curled against Brendon’s side, the only signs of his discomfort being the slight trembling in his limbs and the occasional murmured word. Brendon continued to pet him, watching Ryan’s face with sharp eyes as he waited for the dream to be over. It wasn't long, barely two minutes, before Ryan bolted upright, the blankets pooling around his naked waist as he looked around wildly, searching for something.“Ryan?” Brendon asked.“Spencer,” Ryan said, turning away from Brendon. The vampire reached out and pulled him back, not letting go until Ryan was straddling him. A hand beneath Ryan’s chin forced him to look Brendon in the eye.“Calm down,” Brendon said. “Now tell me what happened.”Ryan blushed. At any other time, it would have been a gorgeous sight that Brendon would have mercilessly taken advantage of. He leaned back against the wall and waited, making it clear that no one was going anywhere until Ryan explained.“I saw Spencer,” Ryan mumbled.“And seeing Spencer automatically turns you bright red. I must have missed that all the other times you’ve been together,” Brendon remarked.“Don’t be an ass,” Ryan said, making a face. Brendon petted his side, more because he liked the sight of angry Ryan than because he felt the need to apologize. “He was….” Ryan inclined his head and gestured vaguely with his hand. It took Brendon a moment to decode the message, but when he did he threw his head back and laughed.“Was your dear Spencer being fucked, Ryan?” Brendon asked with a smile. Ryan punched him in the shoulder. Brendon made a mental note to feed him better; he was ridiculously weak. “Now, why would that upset you? You were afraid when you woke up.” Brendon ran his fingers across Ryan’s shoulders, where he could still see some lingering tension.“I….” Ryan looked away. Brendon allowed it for a moment before reaching up and turning his face back. “I had a dream earlier tonight,” Ryan admitted. “About the bridge. You know… when Gerard…?”Gerard. It seemed there was no escaping him. Brendon nodded and tried to subtly pull Ryan a little closer. The boy sighed and leaned forward, pressing his face to the side of Brendon’s neck.“Someone saw me there,” Ryan said, his lips moving against Brendon’s skin.This was news to Brendon. No one had mentioned anything to him. It was surprising and a little troubling – no one in their group had been in any position to notice Ryan standing there, not Beckett, Carden, Butcher or….Jon. He’d left them, had gone to talk to the informant. He could have caught sight of Ryan before Brendon had.…Such pretty blue eyes....A coincidence, Brendon had thought.“Okay,” Brendon said, splaying his hands across Ryan’s back as he coaxed the boy to say more.“He was thinking about Spencer. And just now…. I saw his face, Brendon. I saw everything that Spencer saw, right down to the fucking hat on the bedpost.”Brendon drew Ryan back a few inches so he could look him in the face.“Did you recognize him, Ryan?” he asked, keeping his voice light even though a sense of foreboding was beginning to eat at his stomach.It’s not my responsibility, Brendon tried to tell himself. What my elders do is none of my business.He thought back to his promise at the park and tightened his hold on the squirming body above him. There was no getting around it, then. He just needed to find a way that wouldn’t get him killed.“I don’t know his name,” Ryan said softly. “But I saw him at the bridge. He was talking to that man.”There it was – confirmation, irrefutable and certain.Images flashed in Brendon’s mind: Jon Walker at the park, looking at Gerard with hatred and fury before disappearing into the night. And later, that same man standing in the hallway outside his suite, a resigned look on his face as he questioned Brendon about his actions.”I did what I had to. To save him.” “No regrets?”Brendon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What he was about to do was incredibly stupid, he knew.His grip tightened on Ryan’s waist again, momentarily enjoying the give of Ryan’s flesh beneath his fingers, before using his strength to lift the boy and set him aside.“Brendon?” Ryan asked. Brendon pressed a quick kiss to Ryan’s mouth before slipping out of bed and hurrying for his clothes. “Brendon, talk to me!”He dressed quickly and was gone before Ryan thought to crawl over the piles of blankets to get to him.-*-Jon Walker was not an easy vampire to find. He knew that and prided himself in it. If he didn’t want to be disturbed, and he was on his own time, the chances of anyone finding him were slim. The skill was honed over centuries of practice – while others were busy chasing pointless baubles or pretty things, he’d been learning how to disappear.It had served him well for those two weeks.Jon pulled back from the human he was draining and watched as the light slowly disappeared from his eyes. In life, they’d been mud brown. Nothing special, not warm with flecks of green, or deep with bright undertones. They were boring and ugly. Jon couldn’t help but wonder what his pretty companion saw in them to keep her so enraptured. He’d waited for her to leave before taking her boyfriend, not wanting her to be caught up in his game.That was about as far as his good will extended.It had been years since Jon was vicious with his kills. It was never pleasant for a human when a vampire fed, but there were ways to reduce the pain, to trick them into staying calm and not realizing what was happening until it was too late. This poor human hadn’t had any of those kindnesses, Jon’s mood had been too dark for that. He dropped the man to the ground and stared at him for a moment, crumpled and lifeless on the pavement.He was still staring, minutes later, when he heard approaching footsteps. They were loud and deliberately placed, obviously meant to warn Jon that he was no longer alone. As Jon waited for the other Dandy to show himself, he kept his eyes trained on the dead human. He refused to look away as though he’d been caught doing something wrong.“He must have deserved that,” Brendon remarked. “An end that violent is usually reserved for Beckett’s victims. Or Carden’s. Maybe Butcher’s.”“You could list every vampire in this city if you really wanted to,” Jon replied. It was true; they were all prone to fits of rage. The humans were usually the ones to bear the brunt of it.“No, I’ll leave it at them,” Brendon said. “The others don’t even fall into the same category.”“What do you want, Brendon?” Jon asked tiredly. He sighed and turned toward the younger vampire. As he came closer, Jon was assaulted by the strong smell of sex and Ryan. No, not only that. There was something else beneath it all, something that made Jon’s eyes narrow and his jaw clench. Spencer.“Something interesting happened,” Brendon said, ignoring Jon’s question. “I came across a very pretty boy tonight. He had the nicest blue eyes. I could see them from across the street.”“Don’t,” Jon warned. Brendon inclined his head subtly, seemingly acknowledging his bad behaviour.“You saw Ryan at the bridge,” he said instead, changing the subject. Jon was grateful, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that Brendon had completely abandoned his earlier train of thought. “You saw him, and you didn’t say anything.”“Yes, well, it was hardly in his best interest to point it out,” Jon said.“No,” Brendon agreed. “And that puts me in your debt.” He slid his hands into his pockets and regarded Jon with a cool expression.“Why do I get the impression that it’s only going to be more trouble than it’s worth?” Jon asked with a sigh. “I don’t want anything from you, Brendon. I had my own reasons. We all have our own reasons,” he added. Vampires were not known for doing things from the kindness of their hearts, and Jon was no exception.“Your reasons would, no doubt, include Spencer Smith,” Brendon said.“Watch your mouth,” Jon warned. He turned away, feeling the need to put a great deal of distance between himself and Brendon before he did something he’d later regret.“Did you do it on purpose, Jon Walker? So that one day you’d be able to slip back into the space you’d left behind?” The words, softly spoken, stopped Jon in his tracks, his back going stiff as he processed them. He was shocked that Brendon would be so bold as to think he’d get away with it.“You overstep your bounds,” Jon said slowly, forcing himself to keep his voice even as he spoke. Every muscle in his body was tense and he had to stop himself from scanning the shadows to see if someone had put Brendon up to it. But no, that was a stupid thought. Brendon was barely welcome at the Dandy safe house; no one would use him in their schemes.“We found him out by himself tonight. He’d been wandering,” Brendon continued. “He’s searching for something, I could tell by the way he stared at my clothes. Such wide eyes, Jon. They don’t miss a thing.”Jon stared back at Brendon, his face carefully blank.“I know what it looks like when you take someone’s memories. When you do it properly it’s a fucking work of art. They never even know, not unless someone drops hints or they’ve left themselves clues. I think it’s fucking gorgeous, Jon, even if I did experience it firsthand.”Jon couldn’t help the small quirk of his eyebrow at that. How had Brendon figured it out? Had Beckett taunted him with it? That was likely – Jon was the only one talking to Brendon, and it was the kind of thing Beckett would delight in doing. Jon continued to watch Brendon carefully, wondering what, exactly, he planned to do with the information.“Brian is entitled to his secrets,” Jon said after a long pause. Brendon nodded.“He is,” Brendon agreed. “So tell me this, Jon: how did it happen? I seem to remember spending the night in your bed, but not much else before that. Did you do it then?” Brendon smiled sweetly at him. “Was it when I was on my knees for you, in front of that mirror, and you were moving behind me? Maybe just before you let me come? Is that why you kept whispering that I had to keep my eyes open? I was young; I didn’t know any better.”“You’re still young,” Jon ground out. “You still don’t know better.”“Probably not,” Brendon said with a shrug. “But that doesn’t make my statement any less true.”“What point are you trying to make, Brendon?” Jon demanded. He could feel the memories rising to the surface, tempting him with small flashes of images he’d stolen from Brendon’s mind. The events themselves weren’t all that interesting – Brian’s business was neither sordid nor scandalous – but Brendon had still been wide-eyed and fascinated by everything around him when they’d been sent to Brian’s city. That amount of wonderment had always been attractive.“Did you give him the same courtesy?” Brendon asked, tilting his head to the side and regarding Jon with a look that he didn’t much care for. Brendon looked as though he were actually judging, or getting ready to. If there was one thing Brendon Urie wasn’t qualified to do, it was to judge his betters.“Did I fuck him first, do you mean?” Jon asked.“No, I already know you did that,” Brendon said dismissively. “Did you talk him to him? Make it a smooth transition, make sure he wasn’t terrified as he felt his memories being torn away?”“You have no proof that I did that for you, either,” Jon spat.“No,” Brendon said. “But you stayed with me afterwards. I woke up wrapped around you.”“Like a goddamn octopus,” Jon muttered. Brendon smiled brilliantly at that.“Yes,” he agreed. “Your work was expertly done, seamless and perfect.” Brendon came a little closer, taking slow steps as he moved, giving Jon the opportunity to step away if he wanted to. He didn’t. “I don’t see things and know that I should remember them. I don’t keep petting at my arm, knowing that I should feel someone else’s hands on my skin. He does that, Jon; I’ve seen it. What happened?” Brendon reached out, his fingers barely brushing the arm of Jon’s jacket.“You’re still a child, Brendon,” Jon said harshly, stepping quickly out of reach. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He let his anger show on his face and watched as Brendon came to the realization that Jon had finally lost his patience and wasn’t going to listen anymore. It wasn’t often that Brendon’s slow, quietly urging voice failed to get the desired results, and Jon could see him lose his patience, too.“No, you don’t,” Brendon said finally. “If you don’t want to discuss it – fine. I can’t force you into anything that you don’t want to do. But know this, Jon: you’ve taken away any protection that Spencer might have had. I can understand not marking him – not everyone wants the responsibility of caring for a human, and they aren’t always receptive to it. There’s no point if they’re only going to fight you every step of the way. But if you’d at least let your interest be known, he’d have been safer.”“Did I cause permanent brain damage?” Jon asked incredulously. “I don’t think you were this stupid as a fledgling, Brendon. If you seriously believe that Spencer would be safer if I’d let him keep his memories, then I worry for Ryan’s safety.”Brendon bristled at the mention of Ryan. Jon laughed mockingly at him, smiling at the look of fury that came over Brendon’s face.“Even marking them doesn’t make them safer, Brendon,” he said. “It doesn’t mean a whole lot to Beckett. Did you not learn that?”“Frank wasn’t marked,” Brendon pointed out.“But Ryan is, and Beckett still touched him. He still watches him.” The anger on Brendon’s face changed to worry and something inside Jon’s chest wanted to sing. He didn’t feel the need to point out that he was the one who’d been sent to keep an eye on the little Seer.“What do you think Beckett’s going to do once Ryan is finally turned? Do you think he’ll just pat Ryan on his little head and let him go on his merry way? Things will only be worse from there on out, because then Ryan will actually owe Beckett his allegiance. Everyone swears loyalty to William Beckett, and he’s well within his rights to demand whatever he wants of his people.” Jon laughed again and leaned close to Brendon, speaking quietly in his ear, his lips brushing the younger vampire’s skin.“He’d do it just to spite you. He’d make you watch.”The shove wasn’t entirely unexpected but it still made Jon stumble back a step. He laughed again and brought his hand up, momentarily caressing the side of Brendon’s face.“You’d do best to mind your own business, Brendon,” he said. “Don’t pick fights with me. I’ve got almost three centuries on you. You just can’t win.”He turned his back on Brendon after that, not at all worried that he’d retaliate. Jon walked slowly and forced himself to take deep, even breaths. He wasn’t about to give away how rattled Brendon had actually left him. He’d thought himself so careful….If Brendon had figured it out….But no, Brendon was hardly the most perceptive vampire in the city, especially lately, when he only had eyes for Ryan and anything involving him. That had to be it, then. Ryan had another vision and Brendon had taken it upon himself to meddle in Jon’s affairs.Jon sighed and continued on his way. He had decisions to make. Unpleasant ones.-*-Spencer hadn’t meant to jinx himself when he told Ryan that someone was going to miss him. He hadn’t even believed it – he’d only wanted an excuse to leave. Spencer was smart; he knew when he was interrupting something important. He tried to push down the flash of annoyance and mild betrayal at that. It wasn’t as though Spencer had given Ryan much opportunity to admit that he had a boyfriend. A rich one, apparently, judging by his clothes and the way he held himself.Spencer’s eyes narrowed as he thought about Brendon, about his suit and tie, his hat and the possessive way he’d looked at Ryan. There was something in that, something Spencer should have recognized. He tried to place it, but when he kept coming up against the black hole in his head, it only increased his irrational anger at Ryan’s happiness. Even though he knew there was no reason for it, Spencer couldn’t let it go.“Spencer James Smith, where have you been?”His mother’s voice was stern and sharp, bringing Spencer back to himself. He was standing in his backyard, glaring at the lawn furniture, and he hadn’t even noticed the patio door opening, or his parents coming out. They were angry, and Spencer had no doubt that they were about to launch into a lecture about how worried they’d been. He took a deep breath and settled in for the long haul.It might have been Spencer’s imagination, but he could have sworn he felt strong hands on his shoulders, trying to chase away the tension. It didn’t work, but was comforting all the same.Being grounded sucked, but there was really nothing his parents could do to make sure he stayed in the house. They couldn’t lock his window because it was a fire hazard. They couldn’t make him sleep in the guest room where there was no trellis because the garage roof was right below the window. They couldn’t even make him sleep with his window closed because he’d end up roasting as the temperatures steadily climbed higher and their air conditioning still hadn't been repaired. In the end, they asked him not to leave in the middle of the night again, trying to appeal to his common sense. They lived in a dangerous city, after all. No one wanted Spencer to add to the statistics.Spencer humoured them for two days – and he was surprised that he’d managed even that long. The urge to go only got stronger when he tried to ignore it, and the voice in his head had been reduced to begging. Finally, the tension in his body overwhelmed any desire Spencer might have had to avoid causing his parents more grief.He waited until everyone was asleep and the house was quiet and still. He slowly eased his window open and paused, making sure that the noise hadn’t woken anyone. Once he was sure, he sat on the ledge and swung his legs out.-*-Jon found that there was a difference between knowing he shouldn’t do something and actually being able to stop doing it. The realization would take awhile to get used to; it went against everything his sire had painstakingly taught him, not to mention the deeply ingrained instincts that had taken hold the minute he’d been turned. He tried not to picture Nick's face, the disappointed expression that would come over him whenever Jon failed to learn a lesson. Jon was his own man now, and his sire was long gone.Not that it lessened the sting any.Jon walked the darkened street, delighting in the silence around him. He had the entire evening to himself, a luxury that didn’t come often, and he intended to enjoy it while he could. Though Gerard’s slight against Pete would no doubt eventually cause them all kinds of trouble, things had so far been quiet. Jon had to admit he was surprised when Pete hadn’t just begun to strike out blindly. Patience was not one of his virtues – he was far too much like Beckett, and Jon could easily see what had attracted the vampire’s attention.Jon could only suppose that any waiting on Pete's part was due to the humans around him. The fair one, especially, seemed to hold power over him. Jon wondered how Pete was dealing with the fact that he’d nearly been taken away. Although to a vampire – one with Dandy arrogance, especially – maybe he had been. Jon himself knew that he wouldn’t be able to abide someone else’s mark on his boy. The human would be better off dead, in Jon’s opinion.Jon was fairly confident that he wouldn’t have to deal with that. Although, perhaps that thought was premature. The only way to ensure that something stayed secret was to make sure no one else knew, and now at least one other person had found out about Spencer. True, over the years, first at Beckett’s side and later at Jon’s, Brendon had learned discretion. The problem was that while he might not intend to reveal Jon’s business, everyone had a weakness. Brendon’s was obvious and his position in the gang was precarious at best. He was still a non-entity in the Dandy house, acknowledged only if Beckett himself required him. When William Beckett was angry, he was spiteful and dangerous, but Jon was surprised by the restraint he was currently showing. He could have sent Brendon away, or occupied so much of his time that he never had a free moment to himself. He could even have been confined to his suite, forbidden to leave except to hunt. Perhaps the potential benefits of keeping Ryan somewhat happy outweighed those of berating Brendon. There was no doubt in his mind that all of Beckett’s future plans involved Ryan Ross in some shape or form. Jon wondered how it must feel for Brendon, to know that his survival hinged on the affection of a fickle human boy. He thought back to the last time he’d watched the two of them – to Ryan’s smile as he leaned closer, the sweet blush on his cheeks as Brendon murmured in his ear, the way he’d tugged Brendon inside that horrible apartment complex – and realised that maybe ‘fickle’ was the wrong adjective to use. Not that it improved the situation any. Jon slowed his pace as he approached the bridge. He couldn’t hear any other vampires or any of the more skilled hunters, but he was not so stupid as to trust to that. More than one vampire had lost his life due to arrogance. He looked around, studying the shadows with narrowed eyes, waiting until he was satisfied that he was alone before heading toward the little gravel path that led down to the water. It was steep and only his preternatural balance kept him from sliding all the way down. He should have taken the path on the other side. To say that he didn’t know why he kept coming back would be a lie, and Jon was above lying to himself. Lying to others was par for the course, especially when one was a Dandy, but lying to oneself was dangerous. He knew that he was there to see Spencer, to watch while he chased some phantom memory, some invisible touch. Jon would go so far as to say he needed to see him, to know Spencer was safe even if he was hurting. There was also a fair bit of penance in it, if he was being completely honest, though whether it was for having done such a terrible job at removing the memories or for having wanted something so much in the first place, Jon wasn’t entirely sure. He didn’t think he really wanted to know. Jon heard the footsteps before he could see who was making them. His sharp sense of smell told him who it was regardless, and he wasted no time in slipping away and concealing himself. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of a pair of light blue sneakers as Spencer made his way down the same path that Jon had come down. A gangly teenage boy didn’t have the same balance as a centuries-old vampire, and Spencer’s feet slid out from under him. He tumbled down the gravel path, splitting open the skin of his palms as he tried to stop his fall. Jon clenched his jaw as the scent of his blood wafted over on the breeze. His teeth ached and his hands clenched into fists. He was not a slave to his thirst, but he couldn’t deny the sheer want that settled low in his belly. “Son of a bitch,” Spencer muttered as he slowly got to his feet. His legs were unsteady and Jon could tell that his knee was scraped below the hole in his jeans. Blood was pooling on the boy’s palms, several of the scratches deep enough to bleed profusely. Spencer moved slowly, in obvious pain, as he headed toward the other path, the one that was far less steep than the one he’d fallen down. He paused for a moment, leaning against one of the support pillars as he rotated his ankle, making sure that it wasn’t broken. Then, with another curse and gritted teeth, he made his way back up to the road. Jon supposed there was no point in staying, not if he couldn’t think clearly because of the pain.He shoved away his disappointment at that.Once he was gone, Jon stepped out of the shadows and made his way to the support pillar that Spencer had leaned against. There was a smudge of blood on the dirty metal surface. It was difficult to see, but Jon could smell it clearly enough. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at it.It reminded him so much of their first meeting that Jon had to close his eyes and force the memories away.He held onto the handkerchief for awhile, fingers clenched around it as he took deep, even breaths. The smell was sweet, pure Spencer, and Jon wished that he’d been able to taste him more than once.He didn’t hear the footsteps until they were nearly upon him. Jon shoved the stained fabric into his pocket and turned to see William Beckett standing not far away.It was with a start that Jon realised he'd lost track of his surroundings for an untold number of minutes. His hand clenched around the handkerchief in his pocket as the stupidity of his actions was driven home with every measured step that Beckett took. He could have been there the whole time, could have seen Spencer on the road, limping home like so much injured prey. So easy to pick off, bruised and bloody, without any protection to speak of....Jon was not young enough, had never been naive enough, to believe that coincidence had brought Beckett to Sampson Bridge, no matter how nonchalant his expression. Jon had earned his right to privacy, had won it through strength and loyalty, through time spent at the side of four Dandy leaders. He wasn't prone to stupidity, didn't make a habit of putting his desires and fantasies above the safety of those he was meant to protect. Except tonight, when Jon had very nearly led Beckett right to Spencer, rendering all the precautions he'd taken completely useless.Jon Walker had spent centuries cultivating a persona, a reputation that preceded him no matter where he went. He was silent and stoic, and so very good at putting the needs of others over his own. It looked like he would have to make a decision and draw upon those qualities to ensure that he didn't go back on his word. It had to end, that much was very clear. When it came to the boy, it was an all-or-nothing scenario. There was no middle ground, no way that Jon could stay detached enough to make it work.He watched as Beckett came closer, choosing his steps carefully as he navigated the trash that littered the ground. His eyes weren't on Jon's face as he approached. They were on his pocket, where Jon's fingers were still twisted in a handkerchief stained with Spencer's blood.-*-William Beckett made it a priority to know what his people were up to. He knew all about the Butcher's secret lessons with Siska and the fledgling's near-desperation to find his talent. Though he didn't talk about it, Carden was in the midst of planning a grand gesture to encourage Thomas to return to the city. Nate was steadfastly ignoring Brendon and pretending that he'd never had a fledgling crush. And Brendon, well, his time was spent with Ryan when Beckett wasn't sending him on pointless errands just because he could. Jon Walker, however, was a mystery. He'd never been particularly forthcoming about his free time, and Beckett hadn't ever pushed the issue, knowing very well that Jon was, technically, his elder and had long ago earned some semblance of privacy. The problem was, he'd never gone to such lengths to disappear before. He usually crossed paths with someone during the course of an evening. That no one had seen him was strange.To say that it had piqued Beckett's interest was an understatement. He'd started keeping tabs on the elder vampire, following whenever he found himself with time to spare and no other games to play. For the most part he'd watched from the shadows, but now and then he'd show himself - smile as he walked past or ask a few pointed questions. Beckett was man enough to admit that it was more to flatter his own ego than anything else. After all, what leader didn't like the feeling of being all-knowing? Still, his curiosity would have been short lived if he hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, or if he'd only come to realise that Jon had apparently found a new hunting ground. Sampson Bridge was a horrible place, but Beckett could have overlooked that - maybe Jon enjoyed slumming. Beckett himself occasionally hunted in Hood territory, after all. But no, there'd been something else, something that had made the demon in Beckett laugh itself sick:For all his posturing, and all the time and energy spent in keeping himself so separate from the other Dandies, it turned out that Jon Walker was no different than the rest of them. He hunted, he played his games, and he took his trophies.The scent of old, stale blood was generally unpleasant, but any vampire could overlook it if it had the right memories to go along with it. Wide, scared eyes, maybe. Or even high-voiced pleading. Beckett's own personal favourites usually involved lovely mouths, blushing cheeks, tight bodies - not to mention the look of betrayal as his teeth cut through the afterglow.The scent coming from Jon had been faint but recognizable. He'd had something hidden in his pocket, something with enough personal significance that he hadn't offered to explain it away, or even share the story. He hadn't acknowledged it at all, as though keeping it to himself could somehow make it not exist. Maybe one of the young ones wouldn't have noticed, Nate and Michael most likely, possibly Siska, but Beckett's senses were far beyond that. If Beckett was being honest - and he tried to do that now and then, if only for the novelty - he'd admit that he was insulted, and that those feelings played a part in his decision to learn more about the elder vampire's activities.Imagine his surprise to cross paths with him once again and find his curiosity so well rewarded?"Jon," he said by way of greeting, kicking aside an aluminum can with a ragged hole punched in the side. "Back again, I see.""My safe house isn't far," Jon replied with a graceful shrug, not bothering to question Beckett's own presence there. "Few of us hunt here," he continued. "Peace and quiet are powerful lures.""Yes," Beckett agreed. "The house hasn't been the same since the Butcher brought Siska to us. And Nate, the poor boy. There's no one with the time to properly focus all of his energy.""It's such a shame when we lose one to Peter," Jon remarked. "Or to any hunter, really."Beckett narrowed his eyes as he decided how, exactly, to take the comment. Most Dandies were smart enough not to mention Peter where Beckett could hear. There were few taboo subjects among his people, but Beckett's wayward fledgling was definitely one of them. In the weeks since Gerard's departure, the others had taken pains to remain silent on the subject. That Jon had so casually dropped his name into the conversation was irritating, but also telling. Beckett never stayed around for long when Pete was mentioned. Jon was trying to use that.Beckett, being the vampire he was, only came closer and settled in for a long conversation."Have you seen Brendon's boy tonight, Jon?" he asked."No," Jon said.A lesser man would have tried to lie, to tell Beckett what they thought he might like to hear. It was no secret that Beckett valued information about the little Seer, to the point where others often came to him, unsolicited, to tell him that they'd seen him around the city. That Jon didn't play into that game had always pleased Beckett."I just thought that maybe you'd seen him," Beckett continued. "After all, you and Brendon were quite close, weren't you?""You sent him with me to Brian when he was still very young," Jon said. "I kept him from offending everyone and embarrassing himself. I don't know if that qualifies as close.""You fucked him back then," Beckett continued."I don't remember you turning him away, either," Jon pointed out.Beckett shrugged. In those first few years after Brendon had crawled out of his grave, he'd spent most of his days in Beckett's bed. Brendon's excuse - that sleeping on his own reminded him too much of waking alone in the dark - had been nothing short of transparent. It hadn't stopped Beckett from taking what was being offered, though it hadn't lasted long by their standards.Jon was watching Beckett impassively, though he could see a hint of curiosity in his eyes. If he wanted to flatter himself, Beckett would say there was a bit of wariness there, too, almost as though the elder vampire was waiting for the point of their current trip down memory lane."He spent his mornings with you when Ryan was at the house," Beckett said. There were many places in the safe house that Brendon could have gone: the empty suite, for one, though he could have stayed with Butcher and Siska, or even with young Nate. Crush or no, he would more than likely have kept his hands to himself, if Brendon had been concerned with such matters."My suite is next to his. I imagine he wanted to be close in case of an emergency," Jon replied.Beckett didn't bother to point out that had there been an emergency during the day, Brendon wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. They were dead to the world while the sun was up."Besides," Jon continued. "Would you give a human boy that much power over you?""Of course not," Beckett scoffed. He'd never even given Pete that much.It was easy to tell by the set of Jon's shoulders, the tension in the muscles, that the other vampire was growing irritated with the conversation. Is there somewhere else you need to be? Beckett thought. Someone you should be seeing to? He smiled again, a slow expression tinged with smug satisfaction. It was so rare that anyone got to see Jon Walker's façade crack."He forgave you for taking his memories," Beckett said after enjoying the tension for a moment longer."So you were the one who told him about that," Jon said, not even bothering to properly reply to the statement. "I thought as much.""Well, we use what ammunition we have," Beckett said with a laugh. "Using Ryan was getting old. Brendon's strong, but if you know what you're doing, it doesn't take much to hurt him.""No, it doesn't," Jon agreed. "It's his biggest weakness.""I suppose I should have beaten it out of him," Beckett mused. "But he has such lovely skin. It's a sin to damage it."Beckett thought back to the brief moments he'd had to admire the purple ring of bruises he'd put around Brendon's throat after Gerard cut the camera feed. The contrast had been stark and beautiful.A minor sin, then. One he could live with."What is the point of this, Beckett?" Jon finally asked with a sigh. His hand came out of his pocket as he shrugged. "I know there has to be one."Beckett's expression was sweet and almost innocent, though he knew the other vampire could see right through it."I was just wondering if you'd gone to him for advice. After all, you can hardly go to Carden, can you? His boy ran away. Butcher, well... he'd barely seen Siska three times before deciding to keep him. You didn't come to me, so... who else does that leave? Unless, of course, you didn't go to anyone. And that's just sad, Jon Walker. Sad, and impractical. It's been so long since you've been human, I'm sure you don't even remember what it was like. They're so fragile; there's so much you have to do to keep their little bodies alive.""What are you talking about?" Jon asked carefully.Beckett darted forward, moving fast enough that a regular human wouldn't have been able to see his actions, and reached into Jon's pocket, pulling out the bloody handkerchief and pressing it up against Jon's nose. Jon glared and pulled the piece of fabric away from Beckett's hand, shoving it back into his pocket with controlled, angry movements. The look he fixed on Beckett was furious and more than a little dangerous. If Beckett was the kind of leader who worried over his post, he might even have taken a step back. As it was, he stood his ground, one eyebrow raised in question as he waited for Jon to speak."Is it a boy, Jon Walker? Or a girl? Do you prefer soft curves or hard lines?" he prodded."Sometimes they squirm," Jon said angrily. "He was messy. The body won't be found, so it's rather rude of you to comment on it. Isn't that what we teach the fledglings, Beckett? Appearances are everything, to be preserved at all costs? I seem to remember you telling that to the children at the house.""My mistake," Beckett said smoothly, affecting an apologetic look. "So, no human, then? No special little thing has managed to turn your head?""No," Jon bit out."Pity," Beckett replied. "Maybe someday. We can hope for you.""Go right ahead, if it makes you happy," Jon said."Oh, it does," Beckett laughed. "I'll leave you to your lurking, then, shall I? After all, you had a point: peace and quiet is definitely in short supply."William Beckett was not the kind of vampire who allowed others to lie to his face. That Jon Walker had just done so made him wonder how many other times the elder vampire had gotten away with it. People tended to take whatever Jon said at face value; his years of service, years of experience, saw to that. Maybe it was time to take a greater interest in what, exactly, he was doing.Starting with the pretty thing Beckett had seen stumbling across the road. His open wound had smelled so lovely, exactly like the blood in Jon Walker's pocket.-*-"Tell me again why we're doing this?" Spencer asked as he allowed Ryan to tug him down the street. He didn't mind as much as he let on, but if he didn't put up some kind of fight, Ryan would keep finding reasons to try manhandling him places. Try being the keyword. Spencer himself wasn't all that big, but Ryan was pretty much skin and bones, no matter how much food Spencer's mom forced down his throat."Because we haven't done anything fun in ages," Ryan said, not bothering to look back as he continued to pull Spencer along the sidewalk. He shoved his way through a loud group of girls, leaving Spencer to decide whether or not they deserved an apology. They didn't."We played Scrabble with my grandmother," Spencer said innocently. "Are you saying that wasn't fun?""It would have been, if you'd let me spell fisting," Ryan complained."But then we'd be at the hospital, waiting for news about Grandma's heart attack," Spencer pointed out. "And that's fun for no one.""I don't know," Ryan mused. "There might have been some interesting magazines.""From 1985," Spencer said."Fine," Ryan sighed. "No more dirty Scrabble.""That's all I ask," Spencer said solemnly.Ryan laughed and slowed his pace so that he was walking alongside Spencer instead of in front of him. His grip on Spencer's wrist loosened until, convinced that Spencer wasn't going to make a break for it, he let go. The backs of their hands brushed against each other as they walked and it felt so normal, so much like old times, that Spencer's chest hurt at the thought of it. No one spoke for awhile as they made their way down the street. Spencer wasn't entirely convinced that Ryan had a specific destination in mind, but for the moment he was content enough to wander the streets with him. How long had it been since they'd just killed time together? Spencer wasn't sure. Before he'd lost his memory, certainly. Probably even before that time Ryan had suddenly made himself scarce.Spencer looked over at his friend, studying his profile."What are you staring at?" Ryan asked. He looked uncomfortable; Spencer could sympathize. Neither one of them particularly liked being scrutinized."Nothing," Spencer said.Ryan led him into a music store, where they browsed the CDs for twenty minutes and made loud, snide remarks about how the DVDs took up almost three quarters of the floor space. After they were asked to leave, they visited a bookstore and, even though he claimed that his love of reading was forever tainted by creepy regulars with shitty taste in books, Ryan left with two paperbacks. They were back on the sidewalk, laughing at some kid with stupid hair and mismatched shoes when all of a sudden, Ryan's laughter died away."What's wrong?" Spencer asked."Nothing," Ryan said through clenched teeth. His hand was back on Spencer's wrist, holding tightly enough that Spencer worried there would be bruises later."No, seriously." Spencer looked around, twisting his neck in an effort to see what had upset Ryan so much. He couldn't see anyone they knew, or anyone who looked even remotely threatening. He was about to turn back around when he caught sight of pinstripes in his peripheral vision. There was someone across the street, walking just behind them, whose pace was matched pretty evenly with theirs. He wore a well-tailored suit and a black hat with a red band. The clothes were so out of place, and yet so familiar, so right.His movements were graceful, fluid as Spencer knew his would never be. His hands clenched tightly as he fought the feeling of so much skin, such defined muscles, moving beneath his palms. Spencer's eyes dropped to the stranger's hands, taking in the long, elegant fingers.One of Spencer's hands unclenched, his own fingers brushing against his arm, chasing a half-remembered sensation of fingertips against his skin."Come on," Ryan said, pulling insistently on Spencer's arm. Spencer threw his weight back, resisting the forward momentum as Ryan put all his strength into dragging Spencer toward the nearest building - a Starbucks on the corner."Ryan -" Spencer began, craning his neck to keep the man in his line of sight. He was laughing now, his smile bright and beautiful as he watched them."No, I'm thirsty," Ryan said. "Very, very thirsty.""You're fucking hurting me," Spencer snapped."Not as much as he will," Ryan muttered."What was that?" Spencer asked sharply, twisting his wrist against Ryan's fingers."I said I'll buy you a coffee," Ryan replied. "And a muffin. Let's go, before someone takes that last table.""But-" Spencer tried to pull his arm away, but Ryan was determined and he had long, long fingers that refused to let go."I'm tired. I need to sit down," Ryan added. He continued to pull until Spencer found himself holding onto the glass door with his free hand."You're making a scene," Ryan hissed with another tug. Spencer's hand slipped off the door and he stumbled into Ryan's side."You're crazy!" Spencer exclaimed."Crazy for coffee! Now let's go," Ryan said cheerfully. Spencer allowed himself to follow, but he kept staring over his shoulder. Soon enough, the well-dressed man crossed the street, coming toward them. He caught Spencer's eye and smiled at him, amusement written all over his face. He winked and continued down the sidewalk."That's it, keep walking," Ryan muttered."What?" Spencer demanded."Do you want chocolate sprinkles?" Ryan asked, holding up the chocolate shaker."Dude, no," Spencer said with a face. "Just black coffee, nothing else.""You're so boring," Ryan said, before starting up another conversation as if he hadn't momentarily been possessed by a crazy person. Spencer watched him closely, chiming in whenever he was expected to, but mostly not paying attention to what Ryan was saying. What the hell had just happened?Spencer had no clue, but he was pretty sure he knew where he could find out.-*-It was easy to keep an eye on him, to observe without being seen. All of Spencer's time for the next two evenings was spoken for, either by his parents or his best friend. Ryan in particular kept an eagle eye on him, going so far as to insinuate himself into Smith family activities so that Spencer had hardly a moment to himself. Beckett supposed it was his own fault. He'd made a spectacle of himself that night on the sidewalk, but who could blame him when things had so fortuitously come together?He'd set out with the intention of shadowing Ryan, only to find him with Jon's little human. Beckett had seen him once or twice before crossing paths with him at the bridge, but he'd never had much cause to pay attention to him. Spencer Smith had simply been Ryan's human friend and, consequently, was of little use to Beckett beyond the possibility of a meal. Or perhaps as collateral if he ever truly became angry with the little Seer and his pet vampire. All of that changed in an instant, circumstances lending Spencer value that he'd never have otherwise. Unremarkable boys with unremarkable lives had never carried much interest for Beckett, but he'd be the first to admit that the fastest way to get his attention was to hide something from him.How long had it gone on before he'd found out? Jon had spent the last year with Maja and the boy was young, though that didn't mean much when it came to vampires. Beckett himself had no taste for youngsters, had gone so far as to forbid it from his city, but there were vampires in other areas who often fed on children. But this was different, Beckett was sure of it. The human had no marks on his neck or wrists, and if Jon had seen him as food, Beckett was confident that Spencer would have been dead shortly after crossing the vampire's path. That meant there was more to it; even with the promise of eternity, vampires weren't eager to waste their time. If the boy merited such close attention, such secrecy and duplicity, there had to be an emotional attachment. It must have been recent, then, after Jon had returned home and after Beckett had given the order to drop all other interests.The stupidity alone was shocking, but it was the arrogance of the lies that truly bothered him. Such behaviour had to be nipped in the bud; lessons would have to be taught, the status quo restored, and Beckett was rather excited to get started. Gerard's recent visit had thrown much of the Dandy structure into chaos and it was time to set it all to rights, starting with those whose loyalties seemed to be shifting.That the game was so interesting did wonders for Beckett's mood.He'd overheard enough conversations in the last few days to realise that the boy was suffering from amnesia. The huge gap in his memories spoke volumes - Jon Walker had been there, and he'd done a shitty job of disguising it. Something had spooked him, turning such a beautiful art form into nothing more than a smash and grab. The only thing it could be was Gerard. The realization made fury twist Beckett's features into something dark and dangerous. Jon had spoken to Gerard, then, and there was no telling what, exactly, might have been said.The expression of rage drained away as he heard the sound of a bedroom window being opened. He watched as Spencer sat on the sill, legs hanging outside. Beckett smiled, stepping back into the shadows before turning and hurrying away. He knew exactly where the boy was going, and he couldn't help but congratulate himself for having ensured that they'd have an uninterrupted meeting. Jon was no doubt unhappy about watching the fledgelings, but it was certainly not the worst of the tasks Beckett could have assigned him.There was no difficulty getting to the bridge before Spencer did. Beckett was leaning against one of the support pillars, hands in his pockets and hat pulled low over his eyes. He could hear the boy long before he could see him, the soft, shuffling sound of his running shoes on the gravel announcing his arrival."You're here." Spencer's voice was surprised, as though he hadn't allowed himself to hope his plan would be successful."I knew you'd come back eventually," Beckett said, a sweet, disarming smile on his face. The expression did its job - he could see some small measure of tension disappear from the boy's shoulders, though the wary look didn't leave his eyes entirely. He was obviously lost in some internal debate, not quite sure what the right course of action was. Beckett waited patiently until Spencer finally came a little closer, his head tilted to the side as he took in the vampire's appearance."So...." he began. "I know you, then.""Oh, Spencer, of course you do," Beckett said, putting an air of sadness into the words."I don't... I don't remember you, though," Spencer said, shaking his head in frustration. His hand came up and, though he tried to disguise the action by tugging on his hair, Beckett could see the way the boy pressed his palm against the side of his head, almost as though he was trying to soothe away a headache."No, you don't," Beckett said, taking one small, slow step forward. His movements were measured, not wanting to spook Spencer into running. He'd easily be able to catch him if he did, but that wasn't the kind of lesson he wanted Jon to learn, though it would do if there were no other alternatives. "I'm very sorry about that, too.""Sorry?" Spencer asked, suspicion colouring his tone.He was not a very trusting person under the best circumstances and no doubt this current situation was making him even less so. Beckett took in the anger that was beginning to simmer just below the surface and couldn't help but think of how very wrong he'd been about Spencer Smith. Maybe he wasn't so unremarkable, after all. When everything was over, Beckett would have to consider sending Jon Walker a thank you card."Yes, sorry," Beckett said, taking one more step forward but taking care to stay just out of reach. "I had no choice but to do it. I just didn't count on being so upset about it.""Doing what?" Spencer demanded. It was clear that he wanted to hear the words. Whether it was a way of making Beckett take responsibility, or simply to ensure that he wasn't jumping to conclusions, Beckett wasn't sure. He did, however, admire the challenging set to Spencer's jaw, and the way his hands were fisted in the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, even if the shirt itself was hideous.He had him now, Beckett knew, had the boy's attention and his interest. Spencer would believe him, Beckett was sure of it. There was a tiny flicker of something in his eyes, hidden beneath the false bravado. He was tired, so very tired, and the only thing he wanted was the truth. Beckett would give that to him, win him over. Truth was truth, even if it was Jon's and not his own.He smiled reassuringly at Spencer and took one more deliberate step forward, putting himself within arm's reach as a way to establish a feeling of trust between them. Though Spencer still looked wary, Beckett could see him mulling it over in his head, trying to decide how much he should accept from a virtual stranger. It would be easy, really, to reel him in. All he had to do was strike that fine balance between truthfulness and fantasy."I had to take your memories, Spencer. It was the only way to keep you safe," Beckett said, his voice soft and apologetic."You're crazy," Spencer said, shaking his head. He took a step back, but Beckett stepped forward, not allowing the boy to put any more distance between them. He reached for Spencer then, moving faster than the human could possibly see, wrapping long, cool fingers around his hand and not letting go."No, I'm not. You know this," Beckett urged. "All the strange things that have been happening around you... how could you not believe me?""What did you do to me?" Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared from Beckett's hand to his own arm. Beckett saw Spencer's other hand twitch a little, almost as though he was forcing it to stay at his side. Beckett supposed he was; in the last two days he'd rarely seen the boy when he wasn't rubbing at his arm, flitting fingers across the back of his neck, or pressing them against his lips."I saved you," Beckett replied, rubbing at Spencer's arm with his free hand. He kept the pressure light, much the way he'd seen Spencer do earlier that evening as he stood at his darkened bedroom window. "It was too dangerous for you to be walking around, knowing the things you did.""What did I know?" Spencer's teeth sunk into his bottom lip and his brow furrowed a little as he tried to make sense of the situation. He was still thinking far too much for Beckett's liking, so he raised Spencer's captive hand to his mouth."Who I am... what I am," he said before pressing the tip of Spencer's index finger into his mouth, up against one of his fangs. He watched as Spencer's eyes grew comically wide and tried to pull away. Beckett refused to let go, though he did loosen his grasp a little when he saw that the boy was about to panic. He began to speak again, keeping his voice low, light, imploring as he worked to keep the boy caught up in the cadence of the words, not giving him time to be afraid."There are those who would take you from me, people who would love to get revenge by using you against me. You see, Spencer, I'm a very dangerous man.""Dangerous to me?" Spencer asked, swallowing hard."You don't know the half of it," Beckett said with a smile. "I wanted to keep you, wanted to so much, but I couldn't risk you that way.""I can...." Spencer trailed off, trying to find the best words. He gave up after a moment. "I can feel you," he said, a slight blush colouring his cheeks as he ducked his head."Mmm," Beckett agreed. "Yes, you like to be touched." He slowly let go of Spencer's fingers, settling hands at his waist instead. He pulled the boy forward against him, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of Spencer's racing heart against his chest. The boy was rigid in his arms and even though he slowly brought his own arms up to wrap around Beckett's back, the vampire could still feel the way Spencer petted at his forearm. Beckett's hands chased the tension from the boy's muscles, his fingers digging into the knots, soothing spots that he knew must be positively aching. It wasn't long before Spencer melted against him, breathing deeply, sometimes moaning softly whenever Beckett found a particularly nice spot to put his hands. They stayed like that for several long moments and a voice in Beckett's mind sang with satisfaction.It was short lived."No, stop," Spencer protested. He pushed back, hands on Beckett's chest, and though the vampire was unhappy to let him go, he finally took a half-step backward as a show of good faith. Spencer's face was furious, his anger a nearly palpable thing that Beckett wished he could feel, much the way Nate could, thanks to his newfound talent."How could you do that to me?" Spencer demanded. "You took two weeks of my life!"Well, Beckett thought, that answers that question."You did that and then, what? Figured I'd be able to handle it? I was fucking terrified! I woke up the next morning and didn't know what happened!" Spencer took a step back and Beckett allowed it, though he didn't think he'd be all that happy if the human tried to move any farther away."You weren't supposed to," Beckett pointed out. He sighed. "If I'd done it correctly, you wouldn't have even noticed that I was missing from your memories.""Yeah, well, I think we've already established the shit job you did with that," Spencer hissed.Beckett had to fight to keep a smile off his face. Here was a tiny, fragile human, actually daring to scold him. On any other day, in any other circumstance, Beckett would been making plans visit the whelp's cemetery plot, but at the moment - heaven help him - Beckett almost found it endearing. He couldn't help but wonder how much of Spencer's disposition would survive the change."He was on your doorstep, Spencer," Beckett said. "He was going to slaughter your family.""What?" Spencer asked stopping mid-tirade and looking at Beckett with wide eyes."That's why I had to act so quickly," the vampire continued. "His name is Jon Walker, and he's taken a shine to your pretty blue eyes. Don't you see? I just wanted to keep you safe. Your family, too.""He... but what did I do to him? Why would he want to hurt me?" Spencer asked.Oh, so naive, Becket thought. That particular trait will have to be dealt with eventually."Because someone lied to him," Beckett said, pulling Spencer back against his body. He was happily surprised when the boy let him, going so far as to wrap his arms around Beckett's waist. "You should never lie to him. That can only end badly for everyone.""I think I want to go home," Spencer said, his voice muffled by the side of Beckett's neck where he'd hidden his face. Beckett ran his hand down the boy's back in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but he only tensed up more."Come along, then," the vampire said, pulling away and taking Spencer's hand. "I imagine you're exhausted from just trying to make sense of all this. I'll be waiting for you tomorrow, we can talk more. Ask me any questions you'd like."Beckett couldn't promise to answer them truthfully, but Spencer didn't have to know that.He led the boy back to his house, waiting in the back yard as Spencer tried to figure out the best way to say goodnight to a vampire. Beckett would have drawn the moment out, let him continue to stand there, awkward and confused, but he really did have other things to see to. He leaned in quickly, brushing a kiss against the boy's mouth before physically turning him around and pushing him toward the trellis."If you don't go now, someone will wake up," he urged. "I'm sure you don't want to explain why we're standing here.""God no," Spencer said, beginning to climb. He looked down at Beckett as he reached his windowsill and stared at him. "Am I completely insane?" he asked.Beckett laughed and shook his head. He reached into his inside breast pocket and pulled out an elegant little switchblade. He'd taken it off a hunter back in the fifties and he was rarely without it. He couldn't help it he loved trophies, and the family name etched into the handle was large enough - displayed prominently enough - that it was recognizable to whoever saw it. The Flowers family was still hunting, and it was so easy to antagonize them."If you're crazy," he said, setting to work carving his initials in the trellis, "then this won't be here in the morning. Go to sleep, Spencer. You look like you need it."The boy regarded him for a moment more before pulling himself into his bedroom. He didn't come back to look outside. Beckett didn't know if he should be glad or not.-*- His name was William and he was a Dandy. Vampires were everywhere in the city, and Spencer was quickly treated to a crash course in how to spot them. William took him to one of the over-21 clubs downtown, set him up against the balcony railing, and stepped into his space as he pointed them out one by one: the Punks with their leather, the Hoods and their baggy clothes, and finally the Dandies and their fine dress. It was a uniform of sorts, a source of pride and recognition.Recognition.Spencer couldn't help but think of Brendon at that point, at the way he'd teased Ryan, smiled at him and looked at him with a fondness that surprised him now that he knew what Brendon really was. William watched Spencer with interest, a lot of interest if Spencer was being truthful, but nothing like that warm expression Spencer had seen from Brendon in the park. Did Ryan know what he was? Should Spencer tell him? How the hell would that conversation go, anyway?"Uh, have you seen your boyfriend in the sunlight, Ryan? No? Well, it turns out that there's a very good reason why...."Not that Spencer was supposed to actually know about Ryan's boyfriend. Ryan certainly hadn't gone out of his way to explain, or to even introduce Brendon as anything particularly important. It stung to think that Ryan wouldn't trust him with that kind of information, but Spencer kept telling himself that he had no room for hurt feelings. He hadn't exactly told anyone about William, either, it seemed. Though he and William didn't have anywhere near the familiarity that Ryan and Brendon appeared to have. That bothered Spencer more than he wanted to admit. For three weeks now, ever since waking up that strange morning with a hole in his mind, he'd been feeling phantom hands on his body, sweet touches and gentle caresses that saw his own hands chasing after them. He had no idea where they'd come from, their context or significance, but he knew they were somehow related to the chunk of missing time. He'd hoped that meeting William again would have satisfied the need for physical touch, but it had done the exact opposite.William wasn't touching him the right way. The thought was ridiculous - how could there be a right way or a wrong way, so long as his hands were in the same places, were petting across his skin with slow, sweet friction? Spencer tried to tell himself that he was mistaken, but he couldn't banish the tiny seed of doubt that grew just a little bit more every time William pulled him close, tipped his face up, or snuck his fingers under the hem of Spencer's t-shirt. He took it all silently, leaning into it when it was expected of him, kissing back when he had to, and staying glued to William's side when he took Spencer around the city.William showed him off a lot, never passing up an opportunity to take him somewhere. They quickly developed a routine over the next week: Spencer would shrug off his family's attention and dodge Ryan's phone calls or visits. He'd climb out his window as soon as he could slip away, and William would be waiting not far from the house. By the time Spencer got down to the ground, he was usually there, ready to help him from the trellis even though he was more than capable of doing it himself. His hands wandered a little, then, his smile wicked as he leaned in for a kiss. He'd take Spencer somewhere to change - make him presentable, he called it - before they'd go out. Spencer would be put on display in his finely tailored suit, the little human who was meant to be talked about instead of to. He bit back the questions that sprang to mind, most of them about the vampire William had warned him about.If this Jon Walker was such a danger, if he was the reason William had stolen Spencer's memories and left him alone for weeks afterward, why was Spencer being tarted up and dragged around the city? Wasn't drawing so much attention to himself a bad idea? It was common sense - there was hiding in plain sight and then there was holding up a neon sign. He didn't say any of this to William, not when Spencer had seen the way William treated some of the other vampires. The fury in his eyes... it scared Spencer enough that he spent the next evening glued to his mother's side, being a dutiful son by helping with chores and watching lame family-friendly movies on NBC.She was delighted. Spencer was terrified.He didn't go home after school the next day. He had an uneventful shift at work, stocking shelves at the grocery store and helping elderly customers carry their purchases to their cars. He hid out in the back room whenever he could get away with it, staring at his math textbook in an attempt to learn just enough to pass his test in the morning. After clocking out, he settled his backpack on his shoulders and headed downtown, to a small restaurant that he and Ryan would visit on occasion. It was close to the bookshop where Ryan worked, and if Spencer was hoping to catch Ryan walking home, he did his best to quiet that particular desire. There was no guarantee that Ryan would be alone, and the last thing Spencer wanted was to cross paths with another vampire.He still hadn't come to a decision on what to do about Brendon, though the fact that he'd done a pretty good job of ignoring Ryan outside of class definitely had something to do with that. He could hardly start a discussion about vampires at school. Well, he could, but then he and Ryan would end up banished to the table with all the weirdos at lunch, and he had too much self respect to spend his last few weeks of high school lumped in with that group.It was a lame excuse and he knew it. What kind of friend kept that kind of knowledge to himself, anyway? Fuck feeling like an idiot. Fuck hurt feelings. Spencer had to do something, sooner rather than later. He just had to figure out how. Maybe something would miraculously come to him while he grabbed something to eat. And if Ryan happened to walk by, that might help, too. He pushed open the door to the restaurant and smiled at the waitress as she walked past him, carrying a heavy tray of soft drinks. He headed for an empty table at the back and pulled out his math book again, carefully writing out the equations as he waited to be served. He was midway through his second when the waitress finally got to him, a menu in one hand and an order pad in the other. Spencer waved away the menu and ordered a plate of fries and a Coke. The waitress scribbled it down and headed for the kitchen.Spencer continued to work on his math until his order was up, then he shoved his books back into his bag before attacking his food. He looked up now and then, hoping to catch sight of Ryan on his way home, but on the whole, his attention was glued to his plate. He hadn't realised just how hungry he'd been until he'd smelled the fries, crispy and salty just the way he liked them. He couldn't even remember the last time he and Ryan had split a plate and bitched about insignificant things such as school or work.Spencer was lost in thought, toying with a fry and drawing figure eights in the ketchup, so he didn't notice the vampire until he dropped into the chair across from him. Spencer jumped a little and William smiled at him, eyes laughing. He leaned forward in his seat, careful to avoid touching the tabletop with his expensive clothes. Spencer guessed that a human's idea of 'clean' didn't quite match his own."I missed you last night," William said softly.Even though his words were meant to put Spencer at ease, the boy couldn't help but look back at him warily. His body was stiff and his heart was pounding, no doubt giving away his discomfort. He took deep, careful breaths in an effort to calm himself down and was frustrated when it didn't work. He didn't want to show how worried he was, but Spencer wasn't an idiot, he knew that standing William up not once but twice had been a monumentally bad idea.That didn't mean he hadn't felt safer when he'd done it, though."I had to stay home last night," Spencer replied. It was a lie, and a very bad one at that. He'd already shown that he had no trouble sneaking out of the house if he wanted to, but he'd drawn a blank when it came to other excuses. He hoped that William would take it to mean he'd needed to get some actual sleep, but it didn't look like that would be the case. His expression went momentarily dark before he schooled his features into something almost like understanding. Spencer might have fallen for it once, before he'd seen the dark, dangerous looks he'd thrown toward his underlings. William was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. He didn't take kindly to those who didn't cooperate."I'm a very dangerous man.""To me?" "You don't know the half of it."A shiver raced down Spencer's spine as he replayed that part of their conversation. Had he really been so relieved to find his answers that those particular words had slipped right past him? So many meanings, and he'd overlooked all except the easy ones."You're here now," William said, coming around the table with a small smile. His hand played over Spencer's hair, toying with the strands and tugging gently. Spencer ducked his head and mumbled something under his breath, unable to stop himself."What was that?" William asked sharply.It's not the same! a voice in Spencer's head repeated. You don't feel the same! "Nothing," Spencer said instead. He wasn't stupid enough to think William believed him.The vampire tugged Spencer out of his seat, pulling him against his body before tipping his face up. Spencer knew what was coming; he wanted to turn his face away, to stop the kiss, but that momentary flash of anger on the vampire's face was still fresh in his memory. He allowed it, trying all the while to quiet the voice in his head that kept yelling about all the things William was doing wrong. He didn't respond when William's tongue touched his lip and the vampire pulled back soon enough."Let's go," William said, tugging on Spencer's hand. He allowed himself to be pulled toward the front entrance, dragging his feet as much as he felt was safe. They were almost at the doorway when movement in Spencer's peripheral vision caught his attention. He craned his neck to look and found his eyes locked with those of another vampire as he crossed the main dining area, stopping at a table near the window. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit, a pinstripe waistcoat showing under his open jacket. His hat was pulled down low over his eyes, but he pushed the brim back when Spencer looked at him.Spencer stopped walking and stared openly, ignoring the manners painstakingly instilled by his mother. That man - vampire, he corrected - was so familiar. His face, his eyes, the way that he walked.... Spencer tried to place him, to slot him into some kind of memory, but he came up empty after a few moments. There was simply nowhere to put him.The realization made him dig his heels in, pull back against William's insistent tugs on his arm.The other vampire watched impassively from his table, and Spencer knew - just knew - that even though his expression was calm and controlled, he was no doubt upset. This had to be the vampire William told him about. Jon Walker. Spencer watched him with wide eyes, taking in the way he kept his gaze trained on William's hand on Spencer's arm."Come along, Spencer," William said, pulling sharply enough that Spencer stumbled. William had obviously noticed the other vampire, if his daring, smug expression was anything to go by. William pulled Spencer up against his side and led him out the door, one hand pressed low on the small of Spencer's back, fingertips dipping below the waistband of his jeans.Spencer tried to stop his forward momentum, to pull away, but William only tightened his grip, fingers like iron bands around Spencer's upper arm. As he was led away, Spencer craned his neck, once again making eye contact with the vampire in the restaurant.His calm expression had bled away. The fury in his eyes scared Spencer more than William's had.Spencer was beyond grateful to finally see his family's little house again. It was shortly after four in the morning, the latest he'd ever stayed out with William, and every muscle in Spencer's body was crying out for sleep. He stumbled out of the car, allowing the vampire to steady him with a hand to his elbow, and waved sleepily over his shoulder. It would be rude not to, and he'd already pushed his luck enough for one night. He knew he'd never forget the way William all but manhandled him all night, one hand on his wrist to pull Spencer sharply back if he so much as wandered a few inches away from his side. There would be bruises later, if they hadn't already started to darken his skin. Spencer was too tired to push up the sleeves of his jacket to check.Climbing the trellis in his fancy clothes wasn't all that easy, and Spencer was beginning to see why William usually made him change before taking him home. His trousers caught on every splinter, every exposed nail, and his shirt cuffs were filthy by the time he'd reached the top. For a moment he worried about what the vampire would say when he saw the state of the expensive suit, but he pushed the thought away. It was far too late to worry about it now, and if William had wanted the clothing kept pristine, he wouldn't have sent Spencer home in it. Spencer took a deep breath, tried to gather his strength and pulled himself onto the windowsill. In his exhaustion, he fell right through the window, hitting the floor face first.He stayed on the carpet for several long minutes, straining his hearing to see if he'd woken anyone up with the racket he'd made. Spencer could hear his father's snoring and his mother's uneasy murmurs, but nothing overly alarming. He sat up slowly, taking stock of his minor aches and pains and glancing over at the clock on his desk. He was staring at the red digital numbers - 4:16 - when he noticed a shadow that didn't belong. Spencer froze, trying to decide how much he wanted to know what was about to happen. Would it be best to have it be a surprise, or to know exactly what to expect? In the end, his need to know won out. He forced himself to take deep, even breaths, and slowly turned around.It was the vampire from the restaurant, the one William had taunted with his smile. He was sitting on the edge of Spencer's bed, his hat beside him on the covers, looking incredibly out of place in the middle of a messy teenager's bedroom."Your clothes are filthy," he said, a small half-smile quirking his lips."Thought I'd get some gardening done," Spencer replied, looking down at his dirty cuffs again. "There's no excuse not to be fashionable." His heart was pounding, but something - instinct? - told him to just keep the vampire talking. He couldn't bite if he was talking."No," the vampire agreed. "But this shouldn't be your fashion." He stood up then and took a few slow, measured steps forward. Spencer stood his ground, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest, certain that it was visible through his shirt like some kind of ridiculous cartoon."You're Jon Walker," Spencer said as the vampire came closer. "William warned me about you.""Did he now?" Jon asked, his mouth twisting a little. "What kindness on William's part. What, exactly, did he tell you about me? No, wait... let me guess. He had to hide you from me, didn't he? It was the only way to keep you safe, to ensure that no one stole you away. Is that close enough?"Spencer shrugged in a non-committal manner, but Jon wasn't all that far off in his guess."Do you really believe that, Spencer?" Jon asked.He closed the distance between them and Spencer just wasn't comfortable with the look on the vampire's face. It was too intense, it made Spencer want to step away, to put more space between them. He stayed where he was and did his best to hide his fear, his fisted hands the only outward sign of his discomfort."Did you manage to ignore your instincts, your better judgement, and fall for his lies? You are so incredibly smart, you know. It's part of what makes you so attractive, that your brain is always working, puzzling out the things around you." Jon's voice was low, encouraging as he continued to speak. It was a deliberate act, Spencer knew it, but he couldn't help the way the tension in his muscles slowly started to dissolve."I heard you at the restaurant tonight; so did William, for that matter. It's not the same, you said. Your body remembers what your brain doesn't, and you're smart enough to listen to it. Sometimes that's what you need to save yourself. It's a shame that you had to develop that sense of self preservation, but it's an asset, something to celebrate."Jon took one final step toward Spencer and then they were standing mere inches apart. Jon's eyes were brown, Spencer saw, deep and dark and beautiful. There was something about his eyes, Spencer thought, something he should remember about those eyes...."What is that voice telling you right now?' Jon asked softly. He reached out, trailing his fingertips down the back of Spencer's arm, light and barely there. Spencer's breath hissed in and he saw Jon smile as he repeated the action, harder this time, fingers pressing down in just the right way. It sent shivers down Spencer's spine, made his eyes fall closed as he gasped.God, that was it, what he'd been feeling for so long. Strong fingers on his arm and there, at the back of his neck, digging in to the last of the tension, chasing it away. Spencer swayed on his feet, his breath catching in his throat as he felt those hands on his face, tilting it up for a kiss. He opened to Jon immediately, his arms coming up around the vampire's neck as he melted against him. He was warm and solid and he felt so very good pressed up against Spencer's body."Come with me," Jon said after he pulled away, his eyes still on Spencer's mouth. Spencer licked at his bottom lip a little nervously. "Come with me and I can explain everything. We can't do it here.""Okay," Spencer said softly, and then a little louder, with more confidence. "Okay."-*-Jon was one of the few vampires in the city who didn't spend all of his time at the communal safe house. As far as he knew, there were only three others - none of whom were Dandies. The others didn't understand that extreme need for privacy, but Jon's sire had instilled it in him right from the beginning. Some of Jon's fondest memories were of spending entire evenings in Nick's private library, learning about his gift under the safe, watchful eyes of the only vampire Jon had ever truly learned to trust. He'd taken his sire's death hard, felt his loss even eight decades later, but he'd learned his lessons well and would always hold them close.He still kept a suite at the Dandy house and used it several times a week, but that was mostly to appease Beckett's feelings than anything else. The location of his safe house was, to the best of his knowledge, secret, and the best way to ensure that it stayed that way was to avoid giving anyone a reason to look for it. If he didn't give anyone cause for alarm over what he may or may not be up to during the hours in which he sequestered himself away, they would be more likely to respect his privacy, even though he'd long ago earned the right to be left to his own devices.His penthouse was clear across town, from both the Dandy house and Spencer's. He made Spencer change out of his dirty clothes before they left the boy's room. There was something wrong about seeing Spencer in Dandy dress, especially after everything Jon had done to give the boy back some semblance of a human life. It had all blown up in his face, of course, but that didn't make the actions any less honourable in his opinion. He even turned his back as Spencer dressed, though the idea was absurd. He'd already seen everything there was to see, could so easily pull up the memories of that night: the feel of so much warm skin beneath his hands, hips rolling back into each thrust, stuttered breath and begging words.Jon forced himself to stay in the moment. He waited somewhat impatiently for Spencer to pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and then ushered him out the front door, to a car he'd parked several houses down. Spencer stayed quiet as he slid into the passenger seat, taking care to buckle his seatbelt and leave his hands folded neatly in his lap. He was thinking a mile a minute, Jon knew; he could recognize the reserved look on his face, had seen it several times before. He could be second guessing his actions, searching for a means of escape, but Jon didn't care. The fact that Spencer's mind was still sharp, that he was still able to parse the situation, meant that Beckett hadn't tampered with his faculties, at least. He was still the same boy, no matter what else may have happened.The drive was fast, since Jon pushed the car well over the speed limit. He passed several police cruisers but paid them no mind, knowing that none would give chase. Jon could feel Spencer's questioning gaze, but he didn't offer any explanations and Spencer didn't voice whatever thoughts he had.He parked the car on the street across from the entrance to the building in which he'd made his home. It was one of the nicer buildings in the area, all sleek lines and dark windows with the added bonus of incredible security. Jon led Spencer past the doorman, not allowing the boy to linger and look around the lobby as he tugged him toward the nearest elevator. Once inside, Jon pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the panel. The car began to move and he settled back against the wall, watching Spencer with curious eyes. The boy was staring down at his shoes but he looked up when he felt the weight of the vampire's gaze."I've been here before," he said."Yes," Jon agreed. "Several times." The elevator dinged when they hit the sixteenth floor and the doors slid smoothly open. Jon gestured to the short hallway and Spencer quietly made his way toward a nondescript black door. "You always liked it here," Jon continued as he unlocked the door. "You said it was the peace and quiet that did it.""Yeah, well, I'll take your word for it," Spencer said, an edge to his tone. He walked into the penthouse apartment without waiting to be invited, looking around with interested eyes. Jon followed closely behind, watching as the boy touched everything with curious hands: the deep green of the walls, the rich fabric of the chairs and the sofa, the heavy material of the blackout curtains that lined the far wall of windows.The apartment was mostly open concept, each room flowing into the other. There was so much for Spencer to look at and Jon tried to hold onto his patience as the boy learned it all over again, taking an incredible interest in the bookcases in the corner. He ran his fingers across the spines of ancient books, murmuring the titles and occasionally pulling one off the shelf. After several long minutes he turned away from the books and caught sight of a door across the room. It was a raised-panel door, stained a dark brown and standing partially open. Through the doorway, the bedroom was visible. Spencer headed toward it, pushing the door open all the way, hovering on the threshold as he stared at the spacious, windowless room. The main fixture was the canopy bed, its dark blue curtains pulled back with matching ties knotted to the four posts."Did I spend much time in there?" Spencer asked tersely, his hand once again petting at his arm. He didn't seem to realise he was doing it."Not a lot of time, no," Jon said truthfully. "Though you were in there once.""Were you with me?" Spencer's voice was soft and he didn't look away from the bed. His teeth sank into his bottom lip and his eyes were wide. He was upset, but even then Jon didn't see any point in lying to him. He'd had enough of that already."Yes."There was an uncomfortable silence before Spencer took a deep, shaky breath and turned to face Jon. His eyes were hurt, wide and shining, but he held Jon's gaze, wouldn't look away no matter how hard it must have been for him."You took that from me," he accused."Spencer," Jon began, but he stopped when Spencer raised his hand."You don't even understand, do you?" Spencer asked, shaking his head sadly. "You stand here and you tell me that we... that I let you.... You say these things but you just don't get it.""Then tell me," Jon urged. He watched Spencer intently, genuinely interested in what he was trying to say. It shouldn't have mattered; his sire would have shaken his head, Jon knew. Spencer was only a boy, such an outburst should not have been tolerated. It was a perfect example of why so many vampires didn't bother to keep pet humans - their emotional well-being was so much work."I felt something," Spencer said. "I cared about you, otherwise I'd never have let you.... You're telling me that I had all these feelings and I can't remember any of them. You took them away like they didn't matter, like I didn't need them!""That's not why I did it!" Jon exclaimed. "It wasn't safe anymore! Gerard found you so easily, and it was only a matter of time before Beckett - William - did, too. He doesn't have any self control; he can't be trusted around things that belong to other people. Not if he wants them, too. "At Spencer's narrowed glare, the defiant set of his jaw, Jon wanted to reach out and shake him."I didn't do a very good job of it, and for that I'm sorry," Jon continued. For a moment he toyed with the idea of telling Spencer exactly how hard it had been to tip his face up for one last kiss, to murmur about how important it was to keep his eyes open, to pull away from his mouth and take those sweet memories with him. Watching Spencer's accusing blue eyes turn vacant, dark lashes sweeping down as his mind shut off against the trauma of so much lost time, had burned in his chest, but he'd held the feeling close, knowing that he deserved it."There had to be another way," Spencer insisted."No," Jon said sadly. "I had to give you up and the only way to do that was to make you forget everything. You weren't supposed to go back to the bridge; you shouldn't have even known you were missing anything. There just wasn't enough time and I...." he trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter that I didn't want to do it, the fact remains that I had to, so I did." He pressed closer to Spencer, his fingertips playing along the line of his jaw. The boy was angry still, hurt shining bright in his eyes, but he didn't pull away."Sometimes you can't have what you want," Jon murmured. "Sometimes the well-being of someone else has to take priority. I'd do it again, because that's how I was raised. Nicholas would be proud of me for that."It was true, Jon knew. His sire would definitely look on him with a smile, pull him close and press a kiss to his temple. It had been Jon's first lesson, and he'd taken care to learn it well. Beckett, on the other hand, had failed to learn it at all. Not even the welfare of the city could temper his actions. The disaster with Frank and Gerard had proven that clearly enough, and the new situation with Ryan, and now Spencer, was well on its way to becoming a repeat performance."Can you give them back?" Spencer asked hopefully. He still hadn't pulled his face away from Jon's hands and, no matter how hard he might have worked to appear unaffected, Jon could see the way his eyes had gone heavy-lidded."No," Jon replied, shaking his head. "They're not lost, just gone. I still have them in my head, along with every other memory I've ever taken. Sometimes I don't know which are really mine....""That's horrible," Spencer said softly."Not always," Jon admitted. "Even when I didn't have you, you were still here with me." He cupped Spencer's face between his palms, fingertips pressing against the pulse point in his throat, enjoying the strong, steady beat just below the skin. He leaned forward a little, his lips brushing against Spencer's as he spoke, his tone low, inviting. "I could still see you and hear your voice. I could play it all back and not only relive it all, but even feel it from your point of view. Every time I touched you, every good thing I did to you, every incredible thought you had.... It was wrong and so perverse, but I liked that best."He kissed Spencer then, nothing more than a soft, teasing pressure and a sharp nip to his bottom lip. He pulled back and smiled a little before he continued to speak."Your hands, fisted in my hair; your mouth on mine; the sweet way you asked for it," Jon murmured. "You were so scared, so nervous, but you wanted it. Such a brave boy, you took it all so very well....""Jon?" Spencer asked, his hands coming up to tentatively pet at the vampire's chest. There was a slight tremor in his fingers, and Jon smiled reassuringly, his hands covering the boy's, pressing them against the fine fabric of his jacket."Come with me, Spencer," he said. He could smell the boy's desire, could feel the physical reaction, but that didn't stop Jon from wondering if he would say no. He wouldn't be angry if Spencer did, he'd be disappointed at losing an opportunity to have so much warm skin against his own, but he'd accept it nonetheless.Spencer's eyes slid to the bed just beyond the doorway and then back to Jon's face. He nodded after a moment and allowed himself to be pulled into the bedroom.-*-He was nervous, just like Jon said he'd been the first time. It wasn't fair that he'd have to go through the first-time jitters again, that he couldn't be more confident this time. He was suddenly worried that the vampire would be bored with him, would hold his lack of experience against him. But no, it wasn't his fault, Spencer told himself. If anyone was to blame, it was Jon."How did we start, the last time?" Spencer asked. His voice was steady, and he was ridiculously pleased that it sounded much more confident than he actually felt."I took off all your clothes," Jon replied with a wicked smile, his hands petting at Spencer's back.He fixed the vampire with an expectant look. "Well?" Spencer asked, one eyebrow raised in question.Jon laughed softly, his wicked grin turning almost sweet as he curled his fingers in the hem of Spencer's faded t-shirt. He pulled it over Spencer's head, balling it up between his hands before dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. Spencer was surprised at that; Jon didn't seem the type to create a mess. He'd half-imagined the vampire folding each article carefully before setting the stack on top of the chest of drawers in the corner. But no, he supposed his own clothing didn't warrant such care, no when it was well-washed and worn in.It wasn't long before his jeans and underwear hit the floor next to his shirt and Spencer was standing there, feeling uncomfortably naked and exposed as Jon stared unabashedly. His eyes were dark as they roamed across Spencer's body, his expression so very hungry. Spencer thought that maybe he should say something, make some stupid joke like they did in the movies, but he bit his lip and stayed silent instead. It was intimidating to be looked at that way, to know that someone wanted you so much that they couldn't hide it, didn't even bother to try.Spencer reached for Jon's tie then, insanely grateful that his parents had forced him learn how to knot one himself for the few occasions when a suit was required. He made short work of the tie, folding it around his hand and looking around for somewhere to put it. Jon laughed again, taking it from him and dropping it to the ground, on top of Spencer's jeans."Just this once," he said softly, as though letting Spencer in on a secret.Spencer smiled and laughed a little, his nervousness melting away as he pulled the jacket off and reached for the neat row of buttons on Jon's shirt. He undid them one by one, his eyes glued to each new patch of skin revealed. He worked slowly, giving his fingertips time to brush against warm skin, enjoying the feel of someone else under his hands. Once finished with the buttons, Spencer reached for Jon's waist, fingers digging in as he tipped his face up for a kiss. It was slow and easy, and Spencer felt the last of his nervousness and tension drain away. He didn't pull back until he'd pushed at the fabric that still covered Jon's shoulders. It wasn't fair that he was still dressed, that Spencer couldn't see everything the way Jon could.He forgot about the cufflinks. Spencer glared at the sleeves of Jon's shirt when he realised he couldn't pull them off all the way. When he couldn't make them disappear through the awesome power of his mind, he grudgingly admitted that he'd have to pull the shirt back up so he could get at the cuffs.Jon put the onyx cufflinks in his pocket without laughing, and Spencer was absurdly grateful for that. He even undid his belt and took off his shoes, kicking them out aside and waiting patiently for Spencer to work open the hook closure and zipper, letting the trousers fall to the ground with the rest of their clothing. Spencer blushed and dropped his gaze to his feet when he saw that Jon wasn't wearing anything underneath. It was stupid to be embarrassed about something like that, especially when he was standing there naked, waiting to be taken to bed."Come on," Jon said softly, taking his hand and tugging him forward. He pushed Spencer down on the bed and leaned over him, his weight supported mostly on the forearm he had planted next to the pillow. Spencer leaned up, closing the short distance between them for a sweet open-mouthed kiss. He kept his eyes open, even if being that close to someone did make him a little cross-eyed."How did you do it last time?" Spencer asked when they broke apart again. God, how fucked up was it that he was even asking? He couldn't have that time back, it was wrong to ask Jon to recreate it.Jon grew quiet for a moment, thinking over Spencer's request. For a moment the boy thought he'd say no, tell him that it was a monumentally bad idea. More than that, maybe the vampire would tell Spencer to get dressed, go home, come back when he wasn't so desperate for something to fill the void left in his head. That thought made Spencer angry - it was Jon's fault, after all.Jon didn't do any of that, just took a moment to decide how to proceed and then leaned down to lick at Spencer's mouth. "Up on your knees," he said softly, and Spencer couldn't help but shiver at the implication. "Against the footboard, Spencer."He helped Spencer up, pressed his hands against the smooth, dark wood of the footboard before sliding the boy's knees back a little and spreading them wide. Spencer could feel the burn in his hips after only a few moments; he wasn't used to supporting his weight that way. He didn't move, though, no matter how much he wanted to shift around on the mattress. He kept his head bowed, eyes trained on the bedcovers between his spread knees. Jon was silent behind him, no doubt just watching, enjoying the flush as it crept over Spencer's fair skin."Jon?" Spencer managed. He didn't turn around to look. The nervousness was back again and he could feel the tension settling in between his shoulders."Shhh," Jon murmured, petting at Spencer's side with one strong hand. "I'm just watching. You have no idea how incredible you look right now.""Last time, too?" Spencer couldn't help but ask."Last time, too," Jon agreed. He moved closer, then, pressing his body tightly to Spencer's so he could lean down and whisper in his ear. "You like to be touched, kissed and licked.""Yes," Spencer said, his voice barely audible. His eyes fell closed in anticipation and he drew in a shaky breath. "Are you going to do that now?""Oh, yes," Jon breathed. "And you're going to love it, Spencer."He dropped soft kisses to the back of Spencer's neck, taking his time with each new patch of skin. His teeth only grazed against the skin once, but Spencer didn't even stiffen at the sharp pressure against his throat. Jon was far from the artery. He moved down Spencer's spine quickly, sucking at a small birthmark about midway down. Spencer groaned a little at that, unconsciously pushing back into it. Jon chuckled against overheated skin, turning his face to the side to murmur another, "Shhh."Spencer grew still when Jon got to the base of his spine and didn't stop. Hands ghosted over Spencer's ass before spreading him open so Jon could continue. "Just breathe," he said. "And relax."How the hell am I supposed to - the thought died the minute he felt Jon's tongue, licking with broad, wet strokes before alternating with quick, barely-there flicks. Spencer moaned loudly at that, pushing away his embarrassment and letting his eyes fall closed. Jon did it again and Spencer drew in a shaky breath, tightening his hands around the smooth, polished wood of the footboard. His nails went white with the pressure."Oh, God," he whispered.Jon was circling the tight ring of muscle, pushing hard against it on every upward stroke. He pressed closer after a minute, applying firmer pressure, the tip of his tongue dipping inside. Spencer's hips inched backward, the need for more outweighing any residual nervousness that he still might have felt."Jon, Jon," Spencer breathed, hips finding a steady rhythm as Jon's tongue continued to move. "It feels...."Jon gave him one last firm lick and pulled away a little, pressing a kiss against the dip at the small of Spencer's back."Do you want more?" he asked. Spencer was about to answer with a sarcastic "Of course not," when the vampire's fingers trailed lightly over the entrance to Spencer's body. A ragged moan was the only answer he could voice then, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as he did his best to draw in one deep lungful of air after another."Alright then," Jon replied. He shuffled to the other end of the bed and Spencer could hear him rifling through a drawer, searching for something. He wasn't stupid, Spencer knew what he was looking for, but the sound of the cap being snapped open and the wet sound of lubricant being squeezed out still made him shiver.Jon held him open with the heel of his hand, slick fingers pressing lightly against Spencer's entrance before the tip of one slid in. It wasn't far, but Jon's fingers were big and Spencer could already feel a bit of a stretch at that."Relax," Jon told him, his other hand coming up to pet at Spencer's side. Spencer drew in another shaky breath and nodded, doing his best to keep his muscles loose and pliant. Jon's finger slid in farther before pulling out smoothly. It felt a little weird, but it didn't really hurt. Spencer had heard stories from other boys at school, had read enough badly-written porn on the Internet to know that it wouldn't stay that way, not at first. He continued to breath, determined to get through it.The second finger burned more than the first, but Spencer was wonderfully distracted when Jon's fingers hit something inside him. "Jesus," Spencer breathed, his hips rolling back into Jon's hand in an effort to feel it again. Jon laughed then, but it was happy and not mocking, so Spencer did it again. Jon gave him what he wanted, twice in quick succession, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder."Good?" he asked."Fuck yeah," Spencer replied.Jon kissed him again and that was the end of conversation for several long minutes while his fingers continued their smooth movements, stretching, getting Spencer ready."It's going to hurt at first," Jon said later, his knees pressing Spencer's even further apart on the bed. His cock was pressed against Spencer's ass, and only the serious tone of his voice kept Spencer from pushing backward."I know," Spencer said softly. "I want it anyway."Jon nodded at that and pressed a kiss to Spencer's temple. His hips pushed forward then, all smooth movement and steady pressure, until he finally slipped inside. Spencer's body tensed when he did, no matter how much he wanted to stay relaxed. He groaned at the stretch, so much bigger than just two fingers, his back arching and hands tightening on the footboard again. Jon's hands on his hips held him still, stopped him from pulling away."Just remember," he said, continuing to push forward until he was all the way inside. He kissed Spencer's jaw, holding still to let him adjust to the new feeling. "Your body has done this before, even if you don't remember it.""God," Spencer moaned. It hurt, he was so stretched, but even now the sharpness was starting to fade, the pain dulling around the edges a little. It wasn't much, but it was enough to show him that there could be something else just waiting for him to relax into it. "How long?" he asked breathlessly. He moved his hips experimentally, pressing back against Jon. "How long did I know you before I let you do this to me?""Two weeks," Jon replied, his voice a little strained. His fingers dug into Spencer's hips, holding him still."I'm so fucking easy," Spencer moaned, one hand leaving the footboard to hold to one of Jon's on his hips. Despite the way Jon was holding him, he still managed to rock backward a little. It felt... nice. The angle was still wrong, but it didn't hurt so badly anymore."Nothing about you is easy," Jon growled, tightening his hold once again, making Spencer gasp. Jon angled his hips a little better and pulled out smoothly before pushing back inside. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat. There was still an edge to it, a little residual pain, but it felt so much better. He gave himself up to it, let Jon move him, position him however he liked. The thrusts were long, deep, the sound of their bodies moving together positively obscene. Spencer threw his head back and rolled his hips into it, shuddering all over when Jon found that place inside him, held him steady so he could keep hitting it."Oh!" Spencer cried as he was pulled away from the footboard. He settled his hands on his thighs for balance, his head tipped back against Jon's shoulder. It felt so good like this, deeper, better. He dragged one hand back along his sweaty skin, around his hip, and worked it between his body and Jon's. His fingertips brushed against the place where they were connected and he moaned again to feel just how open he was.Jon took his hand away then, held it and wrapped it around Spencer's dick. They jerked him off together and Spencer was almost amazed that Jon knew exactly what he liked, how to get him off quickly. He remembered then that this wasn't their first time, that he'd somehow managed to forget that. He pushed it aside, not wanting it to ruin how good he felt.It wasn't long before Spencer was coming, making a mess of their hands and the bedclothes. Jon didn't seem to mind, just pulled his hand away from Spencer's and grasped his hips again, smearing come across the boy's skin. He moaned at that, almost as much as he did at the strength in Jon's body, the way he was pulling Spencer into each thrust, fucking him through the tremors of his climax."Jon, come on," Spencer whined, his shoulders dropping to the bed, face pillowed against his arms. He was making a bigger mess of the duvet, but he didn't care. "Fuck.""Yes," Jon hissed, pulling out but not letting Spencer go. He came across the small of Spencer's back, warm spurts that had the boy whimpering every time he felt it hitting his skin.After a quick cleanup, they lay tangled together for a long while. Spencer sighed and watched as his thumb rubbed back and forth over Jon's rib, the skin soft to the touch but cooler, somehow, than it had been before. He was going to ask about it when he yawned suddenly, his hand coming up off Jon's body to cover his mouth."Sleep," Jon said. It was the first thing he'd said since they'd finished. He'd been incredibly quiet and, if Spencer was being truthful, it unnerved him a little."I can't," he said. "I need to go." He tried to sit up but Jon's arm tightened around him, keeping him in place. "Jon?""I'm sorry," Jon said softly. He sounded almost sad, like he was incredibly disappointed by something. Spencer stilled against his side, eyes wide as he heard Jon's voice in his head....That's how I was raised. He'd be proud of me for that."Sorry about what?" he asked, working both his hands between his body and Jon's, pushing with all his strength. Jon offered no resistance and Spencer fell backward."Sorry that I'm not strong enough," he said. "Sorry that it has to come to this.""Come to what?" Spencer demanded as he slipped out of bed. He didn't even try to be subtle as he backed toward his clothes, reaching down to pull on his jeans. His body ached, but he did his best to ignore it and push away those memories. Jon sat up in the bed, watching Spencer with a steady gaze. Spencer turned toward the door, intent on running if Jon gave him reason to."The door is locked," Jon said. "And we're sixteen stories up. I'm sorry, Spencer, but you can't leave. It's just not safe.""You can't do this!" Spencer exclaimed. He ran out of the bedroom then, making a beeline for the door. He twisted the knob but nothing happened. Rattling the door in its frame didn't do anything, either. Spencer screamed in frustration."I know you can see the keypad on the lock," Jon said from the doorway. He hadn't even bothered to dress. "I won't give you the access code."Spencer ignored him and turned on his heel, hurrying toward the window across the spacious apartment."You rode in the elevator, Spencer. You know we're not on the ground floor." Jon pushed away from the doorway and padded quietly to the centre of the apartment. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't plan this. I figured I'd send you away, out of the city, maybe to Brian, where it was safe. Beckett and his people aren't allowed there; Brian would have us killed the minute we crossed the border. We usually save the violence for other gangs, but sometimes there are slights that just can't be overlooked.""What makes you think I care?" Spencer yelled."I would have sent your family with you. Brendon's skilled at mesmerism, it would have been the work of a second to plant the suggestion," Jon continued."Shut up!" Spencer screamed. "You had sex with me so you could kidnap me!" he accused."No! That wasn't supposed to happen," Jon insisted. "I just wanted to talk to you before I sent you away. I didn't mean for things to turn out this way.""Then let me go," Spencer pleaded. "Stick to the original plan, just send Ryan, too!""I can't do that," Jon said apologetically. "Brendon would never allow it and Ryan would probably have something to say in the matter as well. Besides, I already told you that I can't do it again. I need to keep you, but you have to be safe. Beckett can't be allowed to find you, so that means staying here.""You're insane," Spencer said, shaking his head, watching the vampire with wide eyes."This is my safe house," Jon said, ignoring Spencer's outburst. "There's a door behind the bookcase, connecting this space with a more private one. All of my stuff is back there. I never brought anyone here, but I always wondered...." He shook his head. "It wouldn't do for me to smell like you, not when I've gone to so much trouble to hide you.""Then don't hide me!" Spencer yelled.Jon went on as though Spencer hadn't spoken. "I have things to do, duties for Beckett, but I'll be back. If you need anything, anything at all, just ask for it. I don't want you to be unhappy, Spencer.""Then don't do this," he begged."I'm sorry," Jon said. He made his way to the bookcase then, pulling it smoothly away from the wall to expose a steel door with a small keypad. Spencer couldn't see what buttons he pushed, but he did catch sight of an almost identical apartment on the other side."Please!" he called. The door was firmly closed before he could get to it.-*-Jon made a point of sleeping at the Dandy house that morning. He showered and changed into nearly identical clothing before leaving his apartment, making sure that none of Spencer's scent remained. Giving everything away would only cause a myriad of new problems that he wasn't prepared to deal with. Not yet, and possibly not ever, although he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep Spencer a secret forever. Eventually the boy would have to leave the apartment; humans were so fragile and time passed so quickly for them. Jon knew that in the blink of an eye, Spencer would be old, would require so much care....For a moment, Jon toyed with the idea of leaving the city, of taking Spencer and running. It would be difficult in the long term, the pull to return would grow stronger with each passing day, but Jon would be far better off than one of the younger vampires. He was old enough to remember when they'd moved to the cities, when they'd begun to put down roots. No one had ever thought it would wake an instinct long dormant. Stay. Settle. Dig in. Outlast. But no, that wasn't a feasible plan for several reasons, the least of which being that the only safe place was Brian's city. Anyone connected to William Beckett wouldn't last long there. They had Pete to thank for that, along with Brian's strong regard for each and every one of his fledglings, and the blind eye Beckett turned toward his only one.Jon pushed past the fledgling at the door, not bothering to give him much thought even though he could feel the Butcher's dark eyes on him. He'd keep his thoughts to himself, though, no matter how angry he was at Siska's perceived mistreatment. Jon was older than he was, had earned privileges Butcher still sought, and there was no point in picking fights he was not going to win. Jon made his way swiftly up the stairs, not looking back as he hurried down the silent corridor. Everyone else was safely tucked away into their suites; dawn was fast approaching and the call to sleep was strong.Jon stripped down and took care to hang his clothes in the closet. It was such a contrast to the way he'd allowed Spencer to drop them on the floor, but then he'd had other things in mind at the time: lovely warm skin and a strong, beating heart under his palm. As he slid under the sheets, he fancied that he could still feel the pounding of that heart, smell the bruises on the skin. It wasn't right that he was sleeping without them.-*-When Brendon awoke the next evening, it was to the buzzing of his cell on the bedside table. He opened his eyes slowly, rolling to his side to reach the little black phone. The burgundy sheet slipped a little, exposing his naked hip; he scratched idly at the revealed patch of skin as he flipped open his phone and checked the call log.38 missed calls the display read. Given the fact that everyone else who had the number had been dead to the world since sunrise, there was only one person it could possibly be. Ryan wasn't quite that dependant, so if he'd called so often something had to be wrong. Brendon checked his messages. His mailbox was full.9:30 am: "Um... when you get this, call me back, okay? It's important."10:12 am: "Look, Spencer didn't come home last night, okay? It would be great if you told me not to worry."11:17 am: "He's been acting strange lately. He actually blew me off all last week. Call me when you wake up."12:35 pm: "His mom just cried on the phone. Wake the fuck up already."1:09 pm: "I think I might have just gotten expelled from school, but it's not my fault that I have so many absences. Hope you didn't have your heart set on seeing me graduate. I'm on my way to Spence's house and I cancelled my shift at work."2:19 pm: "I'm not jumping to conclusions. Maybe he's just in a ravine somewhere with a broken leg. Do we even have ravines around here? Anyway, my point is this: maybe it's not vampire related."2:21 pm: "Yeah, I don't buy that, either."4:30 pm: "Maybe Pete knows something. He's good at that, isn't he? Call me back."5:01 pm: "I know that you wake up before the sun sets, so come on, Brendon. I need you."Brendon deleted the last message and quickly dialled Ryan's number as he hurried to the closet. The phone didn't even finish ringing once before the boy answered."I called," Ryan said."I saw," Brendon answered, holding the phone between his head and shoulder as he pulled a pair of black trousers up over his hips. "Still no word from Spencer?""No. The cops are here, but they haven't found anything yet.""Yes, well, they won't be of much help," Brendon said. "I'm on my way, Ryan. Do not leave that house until I get there. I'll speak with the detectives myself; things should go smoothly after that.""Thank you," Ryan said softly."I take care of what's mine," Brendon said simply. He hung up the phone and set it on a shelf near his elbow so he could shrug into a crisp white shirt with small pearl buttons. He made short work of them before pulling on a red waistcoat and reaching for his ruby cuff links. His jacket followed, and then a black hat with a red band.He'd have to talk to Ryan about the police, Brendon thought as he made his way out of his suite. Putting his hope in an institution that had been so easily bought could only ever end in disappointment.There were two police cars parked in front of the Smith house when Brendon got there. He parked on the road and straightened his hat, making his way up the flagstone walkway to the front door. He knocked twice and tried to quiet the annoyance he felt at the fact that Ryan wasn't waiting for him on the step.A detective answered the door, his eyes going wide when he saw Brendon standing there. He stood in the doorway, gawking at Brendon for several long moments, before the vampire raised an eyebrow in question and the human got the hint."Come in," he said. Brendon pushed him aside and stepped into the entryway, looking around for Ryan. All he saw were two uniformed officers, sitting next to Mrs. Smith in the living room."I'm going to say this once, and I expect you to hear it loud and clear," Brendon said, his voice pitched soft enough that only the detective could hear. "You are going to give this case priority until you are told otherwise, by me or someone of more influence, do you understand?""Yes, sir," the detective said quickly."Good. Now go and do your job, detective. If you happen to trip over any other members of your department, I wouldn't be averse to the idea of them helping.""Yes," he repeated, nodding his head so fast that he looked like a marionette. He continued even after Brendon walked away, making his way to the living room where Spencer's family sat."Can I help you?" Mr. Smith asked, looking Brendon over suspiciously.There's nothing strange about me were the instructions Brendon sent him. To Mrs. Smith, You adore me as much as you do Ryan."I'm looking for Ryan, actually," Brendon said. It was clear that the boy had run off, Brendon couldn't feel their connection."He got a phone call," Mrs. Smith said. She was clutching a framed photo in her hands, two little boys in swim trunks with wide, happy smiles. Brendon recognized Spencer and Ryan immediately. "He was angry after, he left without telling us where he was going."In hindsight, maybe the proprietary parting comment had been a bad idea, Brendon decided."It's downright irresponsible," Mr. Smith said firmly. "Now we have to worry about him, too.""There's no need to worry about Ryan," Brendon said. "I'll find him." And wring his neck, he added silently.He left without saying goodbye, but neither Mr. nor Mrs. Smith noticed. They'd gone back to staring at the photograph, smiling at some memory that Brendon didn't have. As he left the living room, the detective approached the Smiths and Brendon was confident that this time he would actually do his job.-*-Intellectually, Ryan knew that wandering around after dark on his own wasn't a very good idea. Yeah, so far most of the other vampires had stayed away from him, but he wasn't dumb enough to think that Beckett would leave him be if they were to cross paths. And that said nothing for the hunters, if one of them were to learn that Ryan had been marked by a Dandy. He didn't think they'd be particularly friendly. The fact that he was currently looking for one of those hunters didn't say a lot for Ryan's common sense, but he could still feel the sting of annoyance at Brendon's comment.I take care of what's mine.Sometimes the possessive shit bothered him, even if it had made him feel a little better back when his dreams were so bad. That was mostly because he was scared, though, so Ryan didn't think it really counted.Ryan had a pretty good idea of where to look for Pete, thanks to a few warnings Brendon had given him just after Gerard left town. He was to stay away from the warehouse district, Brendon was adamant about that. Ryan dug out his bus pass and climbed on the #7 express route. It led straight downtown with few stops along the way, so there was a chance, however slight, that Brendon wouldn't catch him before Ryan had enough time to at least get Pete's attention. When Ryan got off the bus, he looked around and tried to figure out which way to go. Each building looked much the same with its grey walls and dirty windows. He decided to go left, eyeing each warehouse he passed with a critical eye. There had to be something to set Pete's apart from the others, he decided. He just had to figure out what that was.In the end, it didn't matter. Pete found him first."You smell like a goddamn Dandy," he ground out, a hatred in his eyes that Ryan hadn't seen before."So do you," Ryan retorted, not giving himself time to worry about how dangerous that was. Vampire baiting was rarely a good thing to do. Even with Brendon, it had its consequences."It is not a good idea for someone like you to be around here," Pete said. "Not after what happened.""I'm not the one who marked them," Ryan said."No, you're worse than that - you're someone who willingly attached themselves to the gang that did it," Pete hissed.Ryan felt a surge of anger at that. He bit it back, forcing himself to take a deep breath to calm down. There was no time to argue, and Ryan told Pete that."My friend's gone missing," he said. "I need to know if you've heard anything.""What the hell makes you think I'd know anything about that?" Pete asked, clearly dumbfounded though the angry look on his face didn't slip for more than a few moments."Because William Beckett is the reason we can't have nice things," Ryan said. Pete snorted in a fashion that any Dandy would be scandalized to hear. "I know that you make a point of knowing his business.""Is that Brendon's version of pillow talk?" Pete asked. "To tell you all about things that are none of yours?""By the time I'm done with him, there's no energy left for pillow talk," Ryan said dryly. "Stop trying to distract me, Pete. The last time I was out with Spencer, Beckett was following us. He's seriously pissed right now so I need to know, did he do something?""Beckett had a human with him last night," Pete replied after a moment of consideration during which Ryan worried he wouldn't answer at all. "A kid your age, dressed up to look like one of them. But he took the kid home after; I followed just to make sure. Whatever happened to your friend happened after that.""Thank you," Ryan said, not sure if he should breathe a sigh of relief or not. If Spencer wasn't with Beckett, where was he?"Don't thank me," Pete said, nodding behind Ryan's shoulder. "I've just got better things to do than get in the middle of your lover's spat." Ryan didn't even have to look to know that Brendon was standing behind him, an incredibly angry expression on his face. He sighed and turned around, walking away from Pete, closing the distance between himself and Brendon. Ryan was barely within arm's reach before Brendon's hand was closing over his wrist, pulling him farther away from Pete."You just don't listen, do you?" Brendon demanded as he tugged Ryan down the street."I listen perfectly well," Ryan said. "I just don't always like what I hear.""This isn't a laughing matter, Ryan," Brendon exclaimed. "You're not taking this seriously!""It's hard to when you're flailing," Ryan said, pointedly looking at Brendon's left arm, which was still in the air. Brendon just glared, the look so dark that Ryan was momentarily worried. He sighed and smoothed his hands across Brendon's shoulders, even though it was playing dirty."Look, you think I don't get it, but I do. I didn't just come out here to spite you, Brendon," he explained. "This is Spencer we're talking about. I couldn't just sit at home and worry!""I know, Ryan, but there's something you will always have to remember. Like it or not, for all intents and purposes, you're a Dandy. Those people -" He pointed in the direction where Pete had been standing, "would like nothing more than to take something from us. You're an easy target!"Ryan opened his mouth to say something to that, some scathing retort about how he wasn't as weak as Brendon was portraying him (even though Ryan had to admit Brendon was right), but the tired look on the vampire's face made Ryan reconsider. He sighed and leaned forward a little, letting Brendon pull him close."I'm not going to apologize," he said, his voice muffled against Brendon's neck. "But I'll think twice before I do it again. That work for you?""It's as good as I'll get," Brendon said. "So I guess I'll take it.""Did you find out anything?" Ryan asked as he pulled away. Brendon led him toward a sleek black car parked not far down the street."Not yet," Brendon said. "But I'll keep looking. For now, you have to go back to Spencer's. His family doesn't need to worry about you, too.""And you want me out of your hair," Ryan guessed. He slid into the car and buckled his seatbelt."I can't look if I've got you with me," Brendon pointed out. Ryan grudgingly agreed.-*-Jon wasn't an idiot, he knew what Brendon was up to. He supposed it was inevitable that he'd get involved - wherever Spencer went, Ryan was sure to follow, one way or the other. It was only a matter of time before the younger vampire grew bold enough to ask about the boy's whereabouts, but Jon had no intention of telling him anything. Besides, even if Jon did say something, what was he going to do about it? Run to Beckett? Jon knew Brendon well, knew that he cared more than he should, had a heart still capable of that kind of emotion. Brendon wouldn't tell, not if Spencer was better off where he was.He could still, however, be a monumental pain in the ass, so Jon made a point to avoid himHe fed quickly and set off for his apartments, taking care to be safe about his trip, but not wasting time by taking an overly complicated way back. He was relatively sure that he hadn't been followed, was about to step out of the alley and onto the street across from his building, when heard the sound of cheap-soled shoes scuffing across the pavement. There were two humans moving into the alleyway behind him, coming off the opposite street. Their heads were bowed over a cloth bag held between them. They'd poke at it occasionally and the bag would wiggle. It made them laugh.Jon knew what was going on, he'd seen it before more times than he could count. Pathetic human teenagers desperate to prove how very inhuman they were would often visit the alleyways around Punk territory; it was how so very many of them ended up among their ranks. That's why Jon never considered the Punks to be much of a threat to the Dandy power system - there was no way a gang who used that as their entrance criteria could possibly grow into anything other than a group of children who delighted on pulling the wings off flies.It was easy to snap their necks and take the bag, catching it before it hit the ground. The contents wiggled again as Jon unwound the opening and reached inside. His fingers touched soft fur and a small body, compact but not emaciated, not injured. The boys must have stolen someone's pet then, not a stray. Of course not, why would they actually work for their prey? Jon was glad they were dead.The cat was orange, with a white splotch on his nose. Jon lifted it out of the bag, holding it up so they were face to face. The cat stared placidly back, but his eyes were alert. Jon had never had a pet; life as a human was an everyday fight for survival, there hadn't been room for anything else. It wasn't unheard of for vampires to keep animals, the Butcher had allowed Siska to keep his cats, but that was more out of guilt for having so quickly stolen him away. None of the others at the Dandy house had pets, though Jon supposed they were free to.The decision was made in a split second, though Jon couldn't explain why. Spencer's family had dogs, and there was nothing to suggest that he'd be grateful for anything Jon was willing to bring him at the moment. He'd dreamed about Spencer's angry face yesterday, his eyes cold and shuttered. So different than he'd been when Jon was moving inside him. Both times. Jon pushed the memories away and turned back toward his building. The cat only protested a little as Jon held him under his arm, frowning at the cat hair he knew would be all over his suit. The cat licked his fingers then, purring a little, and Jon was willing to admit that maybe there was something to having animals around, after all.He nodded at the guard stationed at the front desk, knowing that much of his safety was in the human's hands and it was a good idea to keep him happy. The elevator ride up to his apartments was spent watching the cat bat at its own reflection and wondering why he found it amusing. In the end he decided it didn't matter. The doors slid open and he stepped out, quickly making his way to the apartment and unlocking it. He opened the door carefully, not willing to take the chance that Spencer was on the other side, waiting to make a break for it.He wasn't, Jon saw as he came inside. The boy was asleep on the sofa, arms crossed over his chest to keep himself warm in the cool air from the air conditioner. There was a message in that - he wasn't willing to go back into the bedroom, or to touch the blankets on the bed. Jon sighed and closed the distance between them."Spencer," Jon said. He reached out and shook the boy's shoulder a little. He murmured quietly, trying to hold onto sleep, but the cat's tail twitching across his arm finally woke him up. The boy's eyes blinked open, sleepy and confused. It was a beautiful sight and Jon couldn't help but smile a little. It didn't take long for Spencer to notice his surroundings, and for a look of contempt to mar his features."What the fuck is that?" he demanded, gesturing to the cat that Jon still held. As if on cue, it meowed."It's commonly called a cat," Jon replied, reminding himself to keep hold of his temper. "Though I suppose it can also be called a peace offering." He set it down on the sofa next to Spencer, who sat up and regarded it with narrowed eyes."In those two weeks we spent together, you didn't actually get to know anything about me, did you?" he asked. "I mean, a fucking cat? A milkshake would have gotten you more brownie points.""Well, in that case, I'll just take this little fellow back to the boys I found him with," Jon said simply, scooping the cat up off the sofa and tucking it under his arm once again. "He didn't seem to enjoy the sack they had him in, but I'm sure it'll all be over before he knows what's happening." He turned to leave, his movements slow and obviously intended to provoke Spencer, but the boy took the bait anyway. He scrambled to his feet and pulled the cat away from Jon, holding him against tightly against his chest. For a moment Jon felt an intense wash of jealousy that the cat was able to feel Spencer's heartbeat when he was no longer allowed that privilege.His life had gotten incredibly pathetic in the last few days, it seemed."No," Spencer said, taking a step back. "Fuck you and fuck them.""Indeed," Jon replied.Spencer rolled his eyes and sat back down on the sofa, scratching the cat behind his ears. The animal purred loudly, flopping down on his side and demanding more attention. Spencer smiled a little and Jon considered it a personal victory."Were they really?" the boy asked after a moment. He didn't look up but his hands curled protectively over the cat."Yes," Jon said. "But they're dead, so the animal is safe. From them at least.""You did it?" Spencer asked. He looked up briefly, but couldn't maintain eye contact."Believe it or not, Spencer, but cruelty just for the sake of cruelty does nothing for me," Jon explained."And what do you call what you've done here?" Spencer asked. Jon reached out then, tipped Spencer's face up so they were eye to eye. He was a little surprised that the boy didn't spit at him or jerk his face away, though his discomfort was visible."Saving you," Jon replied. "Let me tell you a story, Spencer. Will you listen to it?""Can I ask you questions after? Any questions I want?" Spencer asked. Jon nodded."Just let me finish first, okay?" He waited for Spencer to nod before continuing. "There was once a boy, a sweet thing who had an easy smile and a love of music. His name was Frank and he made the mistake of giving himself to a vampire named Gerard. Gerard, you see, wasn't one to follow rules, and he was punished for it.""What happened?" Spencer asked, either forgetting or not caring that he'd promised to keep quiet."Frank paid the price, in the end. He was turned and sent away where he was mistreated every day for eighty years," Jon said."And Gerard?" Spencer asked."He was left to think his boy was dead," Jon said. "All because he'd slighted William Beckett."Spencer looked at him sharply for that, but said nothing. Jon noticed how his arms momentarily tightened around the cat. The animal grazed Spencer's arm with his teeth to get him to loosen his grip."Frank wasn't the only one, though he might very well have been the first. I've known Beckett since he was turned and I can't point to anyone before Gerard came to town. He's not the last, because it's happening right now, and not only to you. Your dear Ryan, Spencer. You know by now that he belongs to Brendon, but do you know that he does so by choice?"Jon waited for Spencer to look at him in disbelief and he wasn't disappointed."He might have fought it in the beginning, but he's as stupid about Brendon as Brendon is about him.""I've seen them together," Spencer murmured, eyes fixed on the carpet just beyond the toes of his sneakers. "He likes to touch.""Yes, he does," Jon said with a small smile. "Ryan is a very special boy, Spencer. He's got abilities, thanks to Brendon. Brendon has claimed him publicly, shared himself with Ryan, and now your little friend is less human than he was.""How?" Spencer asked suspiciously."That's not for me to tell you," Jon replied, deflecting the question. "But know that it's made Ryan a valuable asset in Beckett's eyes. He might belong to Brendon now, since he's still human, but when he's turned - and Brendon will turn him, make no mistake - he'll swear his allegiance to the leader of this city. That means Beckett will be within his rights to demand whatever he wants. It's crass and beneath a Dandy's dignity, but that won't stop him. Not if it'll teach Brendon a lesson for his behaviour and keep Ryan in line in future.""Ryan's not safe?" Spencer asked."No," Jon replied. "Brendon will do what he can, but what use is it? He's already crossed Beckett once and lost. They're far beyond the point where even I could step in; even if Beckett hadn't taken an interest in him, there's no way I could take all of Ryan's memories of Brendon. You know from experience that even losing two weeks is incredibly traumatic; Brendon's been around for considerably longer than that. There's also his abilities to deal with, and that type of work can't be undone.""Why didn't you just stay away from me?" Spencer asked quietly. "If you knew this could happen, why didn't you walk away?""Because you're you, Spencer," Jon said honestly. "We first met in Brewer Park. You were searching for Ryan, and you were so scared but you refused to go home. We crossed paths earlier in the evening and I watched you for a time. Your earnest eyes, your pounding heart.... Ryan had pulled away from you; I knew this because I was asked to watch him and report back. Even back then, before his abilities became common knowledge, Beckett still found him fascinating. Mostly because he was pretty, I think, and Beckett liked the idea of the contrasts - Brendon in his fine clothes, poised to live forever, and Ryan, a poor human boy with numbered days. It is poetic, don't you think?"Spencer didn't answer, though he'd turned his body and curled up against the arm of the sofa, facing Jon."Later that night I saw you again, only this time you were on your knees and one of the Hoods was about to tear apart your throat. I stepped in, I didn't even think twice about it. He wasn't happy, but he gave you to me.""What... what next?""I cleaned you up and sent you home," Jon said with a smile. "You looked at me the same way you are now, come to think of it.""You just... sent me home?" Spencer asked."Yes," Jon said. "I knew I'd see you again eventually, and I didn't want you to cross paths with another vampire.""Where did we meet again?" Spencer asked."Where do you think?" Jon asked."The bridge?""Yes," Jon said with another smile. "The first time was coincidence, but it quickly became our meeting place. You'd crawl out your bedroom window and come to me. I'd walk you home after, tuck you in safe and sound.""I invited you in," Spencer said. "That's how you were in my room when I got back the other day.""Yes," Jon said. "You were so nervous about it, all wide eyes. But you trusted me in the end.""And look what it got me," Spencer said bitterly, looking down at the cat once more. Jon closed the distance between them and turned Spencer's face back toward him."Don't ever think I did this to hurt you," he said."It doesn't matter what your intention was," Spencer said softly. "It happened anyway.""I suppose it did," Jon said as he pulled away. He got to his feet then, sensing that the conversation wasn't about to go any farther."You need to get Mulligan some food," Spencer said. Jon raised his eyebrow at the name, but Spencer's defiant gaze challenged him to say something about his choice. "Go to one of the 24-hour vets; buy the most expensive thing they have.""Of course," Jon said. "We can't have Mulligan eating something unhealthy.""No, we can't." Spencer said.Jon had the feeling he'd just been dismissed. Ordinarily that would rankle him, but as it was he almost found it amusing."Buy a toy, too," Spencer added as Jon headed toward the door which led to his own apartment. "Caged animals need exercise."And there went any amusement Jon might have felt, along with any headway he thought he and Spencer might have made.-*-When Brendon was alive, he'd been the youngest of five children. He was exceptionally sneaky, good at getting what he wanted, and incredible at finding lost possessions, be they his own or someone else’s. He'd always figured it came from being so tiny for so long. Even now, twenty years gone, he was on the small side but his vampire strength helped to lessen the sting of sensitivity. He'd say he rather liked the idea of being a living, breathing example of looks can be deceiving, except that wasn't exactly true anymore, was it? The point was, he'd had skills, and while he hadn't felt the need to use them in quite some time, he still had them, so it was incredibly frustrating when, after two nights of searching, he still hadn't found anything. Maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise, Brendon wasn't that great when it came to tracking people and Spencer was hardly a lost book, but it was irritating regardless.On the third night, Brendon didn't even bother to search after hunting. He'd already exhausted his group of informants and spies, and trying to follow a scent that was three days old was impossible for anyone who wasn't Gerard Way. Instead he headed straight for the Smith house, where he knew Ryan was still staying. He thought about Spencer's parents and shook his head. They'd be as big an obstacle as Spencer would be, Brendon knew. He'd have to take care with them; the last thing he wanted was for Ryan to turn out like Pete over something that could have been easily dealt with.The drive didn't take long, not with the way he pushed the Mercedes up past the speed limit. He parked in the driveway and hurried up the path, pushing open the door to the Smith house and levelling a long, even look at the officer who stood in the living room doorway. The human stopped speaking on his cell phone and nodded at Brendon, dropping his gaze after a moment, uncomfortable with the eye contact. Brendon watched him for a minute more, making sure he was actually doing his job. He didn't think that the human would dare to defy the order Brendon had given him, but Brendon was hardly the most influential among the Dandies and he wouldn't put it past someone else to warn the officers off the case. Once he was satisfied that hadn't happened, the vampire turned toward the stairs.Ryan wasn't far away; Brendon could feel the pull of their connection. He allowed it to tug him upstairs, to lead him down the hall to an unfamiliar bedroom at the end of the corridor. He'd been staying in the guest room across the hall from Spencer's parents, and while Brendon had spent considerable time in that room in the last few nights, he'd not felt the need to explore the rest of the house. It wasn't difficult to guess whose room Ryan was in, and pushing open the door just confirmed it. Spencer's room was a mess of posters and CD cases, with a drum kit set up in the corner opposite the bed. A small desk sat by the window, and a basket of laundry sat on the floor next to the door. Ryan was in the bed, curled up on top of the blanket, and Brendon took a moment to admire the curve of his spine before coming into the room and closing the door.There were dark smudges beneath Ryan's eyes again, though they were nowhere near as bad as they'd been when visions of Frank's suffering had robbed Ryan of all restful sleep. Brendon sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his fingertips across one bruised eye, keeping the contact light and barely-there. Ryan stirred anyway, sighing softly and shifting restlessly before opening his eyes. He rolled onto his back when he saw it was Brendon, making the vampire's fingers slide across the bridge of his nose and across the thin skin below his other eye."Not sleeping?" Brendon asked, though it was an absurd question. The proof was right there in the tired way Ryan watched him, in the lethargic way he ran his hand down Brendon's thigh."No," Ryan said. "I dream about him, but I'm not seeing him, not the way I did that first night when I knew he was in the hospital. I thought maybe sleeping here would help."Brendon toyed with Ryan's hair for a moment before pulling the boy to his feet. "Come on," he said. "It's going to rain, so grab a sweater.""Did you find anything?" Ryan asked sharply as he reached for a hooded sweatshirt that Spencer had left strewn across the back of his desk chair."No," Brendon replied as he tugged Ryan toward the door. He watched as Ryan shrugged into the sweater and tried not to laugh when he saw that the sleeves weren't quite long enough for the boy's arms. His bony wrists stuck out, the skin a nice contrast to the dark blue fabric. "We're just getting out of here for awhile," Brendon continued.He led Ryan down the stairs, their hands tightly clasped together. Mrs. Smith looked up as they passed, an empty teacup in her hand as she made her way to the kitchen."Be careful, boys," she said tiredly. She came over and pulled Ryan's hood up and then adjusted Brendon's hat. "It's starting to drizzle," she added, patting Brendon on the shoulder. Ryan regarded Brendon with a suspicious look but Brendon ignored it."Let's go," he said, tugging sharply on Ryan's hand. He could feel the boy's gaze on him as they got into the Mercedes. "What? She adores me," he said."Because you made her," Ryan accused."Love is love," Brendon said dismissively and started the car."Aren't you even worried that you'll fry someone's brain one of these days?" Ryan asked, hastily buckling his seatbelt."No," Brendon replied honestly. He pulled away from the curb and sped away down the street. -*-Jon hadn't set out to follow them, but that's what happened, regardless. After Brendon parked his stolen car, he led Ryan down the darkened streets, then finally to a small park. The rain had picked up by then and Brendon allowed himself to be dragged to a gazebo and pulled down onto one of the wooden benches inside. Jon took a seat at the cafe across the street, claiming a table under the hideous black- and white-striped awning. He leaned back in his uncomfortable metal chair, fixing a steady gaze on the two across the street. They were beautiful together, a study of contrasts with their two distinctive looks. Ryan should have been ridiculous in his tight jeans and t-shirt, his sloppy hooded sweatshirt and running shoes, but Jon could see the attraction for Brendon, the spark in the boy that the vampire found impossible to resist. How could he not?Jon didn't look away from the little scene when a waitress came to pester him. She was obviously new and hadn't yet learned to steer clear of the Dandies and leave them in peace. Her supervisor hurried over, taking her by the hand and pulling her urgently away. He would have to better train his staff; Jon made a mental note to suggest that before he left.Ryan wasn't sleeping again, that much was clear even from far away. Jon watched as he slumped over on the bench, leaning heavily on Brendon's shoulder as he closed his eyes in defeat. The boy was exhausted, though Jon supposed it was a worry-induced insomnia rather than one caused by his visions. If he was seeing Spencer every time he closed his eyes, Jon had no doubt that Ryan would be in his face in an instant, demanding answers and actually expecting them. Ryan Ross didn't seem prone to fits of arrogance, not with his upbringing, but when it came to his best friend, Ryan would always have his way.It didn't hurt that he had Brendon in his corner, either.Ryan sighed, the soft sound carrying on the light breeze as he pressed himself closer to Brendon. The vampire had an arm around his boy's shoulders, his fingers tugging lightly on the hair at the nape of Ryan's neck. Jon could no longer see his face, and he didn't have Nate's talent for sensing emotions, but he still fancied that he could feel the waves of sadness radiating off the human. He should probably feel bad for doing that to him, if only because Ryan would soon be one of them, but Jon found that he didn't care enough to summon up the emotion. He had no regrets and he saw no point in pretending that he did.He thought back to Spencer's face earlier that evening, to the shuttered look in his eyes as he'd watched Jon move through the apartment. There'd been something on his mind, not that he'd been willing to share when Jon asked about it. He tried not to be all that disappointed by Spencer's refusal, telling himself that at least they were able to speak to each other again. Spencer had a gift for asking complicated questions, things Jon couldn't just answer with a straightforward sentence. His explanations were intricate, detailed, requiring tangents and asides so long that sometimes Spencer even forgot what the original question was. He'd watch with rapt attention, though, sometimes smile at Jon's jokes and offer up his own experiences if he thought they might be pertinent.Things were nowhere near right between them - Spencer had been very clear on that account - but it was something."He seems rather upset, doesn't he?"Jon didn't bother to look over at Beckett as the younger vampire took the empty seat next to him. Quite frankly, he was surprised that it had taken Beckett three days to come to him, especially after the look of smug victory Beckett had given him that evening as he'd led Spencer away. Jon's eyes stayed trained on the couple across the street, focusing all of his attention on the small things that made the scene so fascinating: the movement of Brendon's fingers as he stroked the back of Ryan's neck, the way Ryan's hand was fisted in the fabric of Brendon's jacket, the press of their legs together from hip to knee as they left no space between each other.It was lovely to look at. It was also the only thing keeping Jon's temper in check.Brendon was speaking now, quiet words meant only for Ryan's ears, useless words of comfort. Jon was suddenly possessed with the urge to go over there, to pull Ryan away and tell him that no, everything would not be okay, because Jon had absolutely no intention of giving Spencer back. One day, Spencer might even come to terms with that."You know how children are," Jon said after a moment. "Probably crying over a lost lollipop.""You'd think so," Beckett agreed. "So many of them do. But no, that one over there really only gets upset about one thing.""And that would be?" Jon asked, keeping his voice level and even. He knew Beckett wasn't an idiot; any attempt to play dumb would be shot down immediately. There was a fine line between being cautious in his answers and outright denying any knowledge of the subject, but Jon wasn't sure if Beckett would appreciate either alternative. In order to be believable, he'd have to mix enough truth in to temper the fabrications. It still wasn't smart, but Jon wasn't about to admit what he'd done, even though that initial reluctance was how he'd gotten himself - and Spencer, fragile, mortal Spencer - into this horrible situation. If it all unravelled, there would be no appealing to reason, no explanations that would win Beckett over or make him back off from things that, though not officially his, should still rightfully belong to Jon.He wondered if Beckett was annoyed simply because his new plaything - his joke, his game - had been taken away, or if there'd actually been something to his pursuit of Spencer. Almost as soon as the thought struck him, it was pushed away. This was William Beckett, after all. He wasn't capable of attachment, even though he might enjoy the vague idea of it. Pete was evidence of that failed experiment.Beckett continued speaking, seemingly not noticing - or caring - about Jon's affected look of boredom or the way he'd been momentarily lost in thought."'And that would be?'" Beckett parroted back with a feigned look of surprise. "Why, it would be that pretty young thing Ryan is always with. I know you did your job better than that, Jon. When I send you to get information, you can be trusted to actually pay attention. Please don't insult my intelligence by pretending not to know what I'm talking about.""The boy with the blue eyes? Spencer?" Jon asked casually, though it made him angry to have to speak his name in front of Beckett.Memories rose again: their second meeting, Spencer's serious eyes; the shape of his mouth as he softly said Jon's name; the sweet look of concentration on his face as he wrote Jon's address on a sheet of paper in his math book. Jon viciously shoved the images down and continued to glare at Brendon's back. He was not the jealous sort, had never see the point of it, but in that moment - with the stress of his situation with Spencer still tight in his shoulders, with Beckett sitting there just waiting to pounce - Jon wanted nothing more than the uncomplicated press of fingers laced together, or the trusting way that Ryan allowed himself to be led away."The boy with the blue eyes," Beckett mused, a small smile on his face. "Such pretty blue eyes. You're absolutely right, Jon. He and dear Ryan are usually thick as thieves. I don't suppose you've heard what, exactly, has Ryan so upset?""No," Jon said. "They're hardly my concern, either of them."Claim him and be done with it, a voice in Jon's head said. Give him that small measure of protection. It sounded an awful lot like Brendon.No, Jon thought firmly. Let him out where Beckett can see him and bad things will happen.If there was another voice, a third one that snarled about his right to keep his possessions private, Jon didn't acknowledge it."That's right," Beckett said with a winning smile. "Because you don't have a boy. Or a girl, for that matter. Just a penchant for sloppy food.""It would seem so," Jon said, taking care to keep his words civil. He forced himself to relax, though he was unable to let go of all the tension in his shoulders. He was confident that the mask of indifference he'd spent so long crafting was firmly in place."He's gone missing, you know. Spencer. Such a lovely boy with a lovely mouth. I rather miss him," Beckett said sadly. "An eager little thing, so happy to learn, to please.""I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere," Jon said, waving a hand in dismissal. "There are only so many places one can hide a dead body.""Or a live one, for that matter," Beckett added."They never do seem to stay where you put them," Jon agreed with a fake smile."Brendon can vouch for that," Beckett said with a nod. "Kids today are such a handful. So much work, so much trouble."But worth it, sometimes, Jon thought."Do let me know if you happen to stumble upon the boy," Beckett said as he stood. "I imagine he'd like to come home." He threw something onto the little table then: soft, well worn blue cloth, folded small and neat. A t-shirt, one that smelled so strongly of Spencer that Jon's teeth ached. A reminder that Beckett had been with him, had dressed him like a doll all those nights ago.Jon didn't have a reply for that that, but judging by the way Beckett had already started off down the street by the time Jon looked up, one hadn't been expected.Jon held the t-shirt close, fingertips digging into the soft cotton as his hand fisted around it. He stared at it for several minutes, imagining the way it would have been pulled taught across Spencer's shoulders, would have accentuated the curve of his waist. It would look lovely on him, with the colour contrast and tight fit. Jon wanted nothing more than to see Spencer in his ridiculous clothes, faded from constant washing and so very soft against his skin.In the last three days, he'd seen nothing but the dark jeans and white t-shirt Spencer had grabbed when he'd changed out of his ruined Dandy wear. The clothes were entirely too new and nothing like what Spencer had worn the previous times they'd been together. Jon tried to give him clothes - there were a few pieces in his wardrobe that didn't fit entirely right, but which would serve Spencer just fine - but the boy had refused to wear them. Despite the fact that the kid's clothes were disgusting after three days of constant wear, Jon was willing to admit that he was a little happy for all of Spencer's protestations. It wasn't right to see him in such formal dress.But still, the boy needed a change of clothes and he didn't seem willing to accept anything from Jon, which left only one other option. He pushed his chair away from the table and tucked the t-shirt inside his overcoat as he made his way toward the sidewalk. It was raining steadily, but at least he'd dressed for the weather, unlike Brendon, who had to be drenched. Jon supposed it didn't matter if he could shed his wet clothes and curl up around a warm human body for a couple of hours.Jon made his way toward the Smith home, taking the side streets even though it rankled him to be reduced to that. He'd never before felt the need to lurk, to hide as though he had no right being wherever he so chose to be. He told himself that it was a necessary evil, that he would do best to avoid being seen by other Dandies who would no doubt run back to Beckett. There was also the issue of Brendon and his boy, who was apparently staying with Spencer's family. Jon didn't think Brendon would take Ryan home so early in the evening, but he wasn't going to take a chance that they'd stayed in the neighbourhood.It didn't take long for Jon to find himself standing in the back yard, looking in at the darkened windows. It wasn't all that late but the lights were out and everyone inside seemed to be sleeping, though Jon wouldn't let his guard down even then. He made short work of climbing the trellis, raising the sash of Spencer's window and slipping into the room. The first thing he noticed was the strong smell of Ryan in the room and the messy blankets on the bed. A slim brown wallet - it had to be Ryan's, since Spencer's was black - lay on the bedside table. He probably hadn't gone far if he'd left that behind, which meant that Jon's time was limited.He looked around the cluttered room and caught sight of the bookbag that Spencer had dropped near the desk. It was the work of a moment to dump out the contents and kick the notebooks under the bed where no one would see them. After that came the hard part - Spencer was feeling contrary enough that Jon knew he'd make a fuss over what he brought back. Either the clothes wouldn't fit right, they'd be too old, or be something - God forbid - that his mother had bought. Jon saw that there was a laundry basket near the door, overflowing with neatly folded clothing, and he began grabbing things at random and shoving them into the bag. All of it was soft and worn, much like the shirt still tucked into his overcoat, so they must have been Spencer's favourite pieces. If nothing else, it might provide some sort of comfort.When the bag was full, Jon slowly drew the zipper up, careful not to break it when it strained. He took one last look around the room, trying to decide if he should bring anything else. There were several things that caught his eye - the stereo, the CDs, the drum kit - but he couldn't carry those on his own, not this time. He'd come back another night, he decided as he slipped out the window, dropping silently to the ground below.Jon slung the bag over his shoulder as he set off down the street, taking care to avoid the puddles. The rain was tapering off and Jon breathed deeply, enjoying the damp, earthy smell. He'd always enjoyed the rain, even when he'd been human. Spencer hated it, it reminded him too much of being on the ground, Travis' boot connecting painfully with his kidney....Jon was about to pull up the memory when he realised he was no longer alone. He continued down the street for several more minutes, making sure that he was, indeed, being followed. There was no sense in making a scene unless he had to.There were two of them - humans, though Jon could smell the distinct sharpness that told him they were Dandies, regardless. There were only three hunters who were Dandy-marked, which told Jon immediately who was tailing him. Pete's little pets should have known better than to approach him, but if they needed to be taught a lesson, Jon had no problem with that. He dropped the bag from his shoulder and turned to the left, where he knew the hunters were hiding just out of his line of sight."If you were going for stealth, you've failed miserably," Jon called. "Might as well come out, I have places to be and I'd rather not be late.""Going to night school?" one of the hunters asked as he stepped onto the sidewalk. "Because the backpack doesn't quite go with your look.""Which one are you?" Jon asked, intending to draw the hunters' attention away from the bag and who might have actually owned it. He knew perfectly well who he was addressing, Andy with his ink and Joe with his hair, but he couldn't resist the taunt. "Joseph or Andrew? I doubt either of you is Patrick; there's no way Pete is about to let him out of his sight. No self-respecting Dandy would put his boy in danger, after all.""Shut the fuck up," Joe hissed."Eloquent," Jon remarked. "Such a way with words.""You never answered the question," Andy said, cutting Joe off before he could reply. "You bloodsuckers are very good at distracting people, but I don't think I've ever seen a Dandy use that to steal a kid's school bag before.""We're just full of surprises," Jon said with a smile."You are," Andy continued. "Know what else is surprising? A missing person the cops actually care about."Jon was confident that his carefully blank expression betrayed nothing, but he knew the hunters wouldn't buy his indifference. They were observant, he'd give them that. Maybe there was a reason Pete kept them, after all. To tell the truth, Jon himself had been surprised when he'd first noticed the police presence at the Smith house, though it hadn't taken him long to realise it was Brendon's doing. It made him angry at first, though the feeling had faded a little over time. If Brendon had the police looking for Spencer, it probably meant that it hadn't occurred to him to link Jon to the boy's disappearance.Of course, all of that could have been wishful thinking on Jon's part. It might have been done simply to shut Ryan up. It seemed like the kind of gesture that Brendon would engage in."Well now, one would assume that there's some sort of quota," Jon replied casually. "They can't spend all their time working for us, that would be unscrupulous. Humans are notorious for their need to excuse their behaviour.""Yeah, well, you'll excuse me if I don't believe you," Joe said."Well, that certainly is your prerogative," Jon replied. "Now, if you're quite finished, I actually do have somewhere to be. Are we going to stand here all night, or are you going to take this opportunity to go back to Pete in one piece?" He put the seriousness of the situation into his tone, making it very clear that he was not in the mood to play. If they attacked him, he wasn't about to pull his punches just because Beckett wanted to keep Pete somewhat happy."No," Joe said simply.That was all the warning he gave before both he and Andy surged forward, pulling weapons from battered scabbards. Andy had a sword - an honest to God, motherfucking sword, how over the top was that? - and by the way he handled it, Jon knew he was more than capable with it. Andy had a knife in one hand and a stake in the other, the sharpened bit of wood held close to his body as he made to stab at Jon's shoulder with the knife. He missed, just barely, the blade tearing into the wool of Jon's overcoat as the vampire twisted away.Jon shoved the hunter with all his strength and Joe took two staggering steps backward before hitting the ground hard. The scent of blood and torn skin was strong in the air, but Jon put it out of his mind as he watched both hunters with wary eyes. Joe was getting back to his feet, his fingers going white as he gripped his weapons tighter. Andy was grinning next to him, swinging his sword in what was meant to be a menacing manner. Jon was more impatient than intimidated. He watched them for a few moments more before advancing himself, landing several punches to soft, painful areas and forcing the hunters to take several more steps backward.It wasn't long before they surged forward again, moving in practiced motions, working together as a team. Jon had some difficulty in deflecting both sets of blows and quickly came to a decision - he'd have to get rid of one of the hunters, even if it allowed the other to make some gains while his attention was focused elsewhere. Jon turned toward Joe, rushing him, sidestepping the knife and grabbing the hand which held the stake. It was easy to twist the arm back, to pull it up until he heard the bone snap and the accompanying cry of pain. The vampire swept the hunter's legs out from under him then, levelling a vicious kick to his hip, the force of which saw the human roll across the asphalt. It all happened in less than a few seconds, but it was enough time for Andy's sword to come down, its sharp blade slicing effortlessly through the layers of Jon's overcoat and suit, cutting deeply between his ribs.Jon hissed in pain, his eyes flashing ferally as he jumped back. The look on the hunter's face was triumphant and Jon turned that happiness against him, using a burst of adrenaline to circle around Andy's side and rake his nails over Andy's sword arm, digging them into the artery near his elbow. Andy howled, but he didn't let go of his sword. Jon didn't care, all he'd wanted was a distraction, something to keep Andy from wielding the weapon with so much precision. His mission accomplished, he backed out of range and quickly picked up the bag he'd dropped earlier. With one last burst of strength, he disappeared down the street, confident that the hunters wouldn't try to follow.-*-Spencer's favourite hobby during the last three days of his Captivity, as he was calling it - capital letter and all - was to sprawl on the couch with Mulligan and order every Pay-Per-View movie on all five specialty channels that Jon had set up for him. He didn't watch any of them, only charged them to Jon's account. Part of him wished he could see the vampire's face when he got the bill at the end of the month, even if it meant he was still stuck in the apartment. He was in the middle of ordering a chick flick when he heard Jon spring the lock on the apartment door. Dropping the remote to the couch, Spencer sat up and set the cat on the floor.The vampire was moving slowly as he came inside, but Spencer's attention was focused on the black backpack that dangled from his hand. At first he thought it was nothing more than a coincidence - maybe Jon had found one like his - but no, there were his initials, written in White Out on the left strap."You brought my homework?" Spencer asked incredulously, getting to his feet."No," Jon said, pressing the bag into Spencer's arms and quietly making his way toward the bathroom. Spencer eased the zipper open and peeked inside. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it certainly wasn't to find his favourite clothes shoved inside. Spencer looked from the bag to the open bathroom door, his mouth working but no sound coming out.Why? he wanted to ask.Would Jon just point out that Spencer was still wearing the same clothes? That he was no doubt starting to reek, even to a human's sense of smell? Or would he have another answer, one that would get him talking for long minutes about something trivial that would still have Spencer hanging on every word? Would he get to see that look on Jon's face, the one that he got every time he mentioned something the two of them had done together? Spencer bit his lip and put down the bag, slowly making his way toward the bathroom. He was trying to figure out what to say when he caught sight of the blood."Jesus fuck, what happened?" he exclaimed, eyes wide as he took in the bloody clothes on the floor and the gaping wound in Jon's side. The vampire had one arm up over his head as he tried to see the extent of the damage. Spencer darted forward, pulling his arm down. "You're making it worse," he said. "What happened?""I met up with two hunters after I left your house," Jon replied tersely. His jaw was tense as he met Spencer's eyes in the mirror. "They weren't friendly."Spencer bit back his response and reached for one of the big, fluffy bath towels that were folded neatly over the rack near the shower. There were three of them, none of which had been used. Along with not changing clothes, Spencer had refused to shower, deciding that if Jon wanted him, he'd have to put up with the smell. He pressed the towel to Jon's wound, wincing as the vampire drew in a sharp breath. It wasn't long before he bled through the towel and Spencer was reaching for another. This one didn't soak through, though it did stain quite a bit."Will you be okay?" Spencer asked quietly after a few minutes, when the silence became a little too much to bear."Yes," Jon said, his fingers playing over the back of Spencer's hand as he reached for the towel and pulled it away. The wound still bled a little, but Spencer could see that it was already starting to knit itself back together, the blood clotting along the shallower edges of the cut. "I'll be fine in a day or so, I just need to feed and to sleep," he added after a moment, pressing the towel firmly in place again. He set Spencer away from him and sidestepped the bloody mess on the floor, leaving the bathroom to head toward the door behind the bookcase."Where are you going?" Spencer asked, running along behind him. His fingers closed over Jon's wrist before he even realised what he was doing, but once they were there he couldn't make himself let go.Jon looked from Spencer's hand to his face and back again before repeating slowly, "I need to feed. I'll heal faster, and I can hardly go out like this.""But...." Spencer trailed off for a moment. "Is it safe?""For me or for them?" Jon asked sharply.Okay, maybe that was fair, Spencer thought. He'd hardly been all that cordial, though there'd been times when Jon's voice, the images he painted with the words he chose, had left Spencer spellbound and more than agreeable. Those moments left him confused afterward, but when they were happening Spencer felt very... free. Happy. Had he felt that way all the time before? Spencer didn't know, but he wanted to. Maybe that desire alone could be enough for him to let go of some of his anger."For you," Spencer said finally, his voice soft.Jon fixed him with a long look before saying, voice equally quiet, "Probably not."Spencer went quiet then, eyes fixed on the carpet for long moments while he turned the idea around in his head. It was stupid, so very, very stupid, but he didn't see what other choice he had. Jon was hurt, going out would be dangerous. Even from a survival aspect, Spencer would have to do it - if Jon got himself killed, who would feed him, or let him out of the goddamn apartment? Of course, there were other reasons, the thrill of desire he still sometimes felt, the remembered feeling of Jon's mouth near his neck from the other night, the memory of the strength in that body, the way he'd touched Spencer in all the right places. Spencer tried not to make his decision based solely on that. His hand came up to touch his throat and he slowly raised his eyes."You did it before, didn't you?" he asked. Sometimes he thought he could feel the sharp sting of broken skin, though the sensation was nowhere near as strong as that of fingers down his arm, or a caress to the back of his neck. Those phantom touches had disappeared after he'd spent time in Jon's bed, but the pressure of teeth on his throat hadn't."Yes," Jon said. His eyes were trained on Spencer's fingers, on the pulse point he kept rubbing at."So you don't have to take too much, then, right?" Spencer's voice was a little unsteady as he spoke, and it made him want to scowl. He felt like an idiot - what kind of person offered something but sounded terrified when he did? He knew full well that this was a very adult thing to be doing, and the last thing he wanted to do was sound like a frightened child."No," Jon said, his voice gentle."Does it hurt?" He felt his face grow warm as the question slipped out and he ducked his head. Jon's hand came up and cupped his jaw, tipping it up so Spencer had no choice but to look him in the eye. He tried not to think about the bloodstains on Jon's fingertips."It doesn't have to," he said. "I can make it good for you.""Okay," Spencer said after a moment. Jon smiled, though the expression was tight around his eyes, and Spencer allowed himself to be led to the bedroom. He hadn't been in there since that one time with Jon, but he tried to put that out of his mind as Jon tugged him down onto the edge of the bed."Relax," Jon said softly as he leaned in. "It'll be so good."Spencer closed his eyes as Jon's lips pressed against his throat. He expected the sharp sting of teeth right away, but the vampire just brushed his mouth against the artery, dragging his lips across the thin skin there. He kissed it then, tongue darting out to quickly taste. Spencer was reminded of how gross he must be, and he tried to pull away then."Shh, don't worry," Jon told him. "Just close your eyes and feel."Spencer did as he asked, focusing on the pressure of Jon's thigh against his, the soothing touch of Jon's hands against the tense muscles in his back, and the feel of Jon's mouth, kissing and sucking small bruises into the pale skin of Spencer's throat. The boy tilted his head back to give him more room. He could feel Jon's laugh, but found he couldn't summon up any annoyance at that, couldn't think of anything at all when Jon sucked particularly hard on his neck and made a sound of appreciation low in his throat.Spencer was pliant in the vampire's arms when he felt the pressure of teeth. The bite was quick, the teeth sharp enough that Spencer didn't register the flash of pain right away, not until Jon's tongue flicked out and pressed against the torn skin. He gasped a little, but Jon's soothing hands were back, rubbing circles on his sides, calming him down. He didn't suck at the wound, just let the blood well up, swallowing as his mouth filled. Spencer let out a little gasp as he felt the muscles in Jon's throat working, heard the soft, happy sounds the vampire was making."Please," Spencer said, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was asking for. His hands tightened on Jon's shoulders, but he didn't try to push him away. Jon seemed to know what he wanted, holding him tightly as he leaned Spencer back onto the bed, fitting his body along the boy's side. This was better, infinitely better, with so much contact between them. It wasn't long before things started to go a little grey around the edges and Spencer realised how light-headed he was. He moaned a little then, patting at Jon's shoulder. He could feel Jon's tongue lapping at the wound, prodding it, making it bleed faster."Jon....""It's okay," Jon said, his mouth moving against Spencer's neck. "I won't take much more." He sucked hard, something that made Spencer groan, it hurt so much. The pain cut through the pleasant fog he was floating in and his fingers tightened around Jon's shoulder. He felt the vampire's tongue make broad strokes across the wound, but it felt weird, wetter, somehow. His skin itched, much the way torn skin did when it as it was healing. "Is that better?" Jon murmured."Mmm," was all the reply Spencer could give. He looked up at Jon from under his lashes and saw the vampire smiling down at him."Take a nap with me," Jon said. Spencer nodded.Like he could do anything other than curl up against Jon's side, anyway.-*-It was a little after eleven when Brendon led Ryan up the walkway to the Smith home, the fingers of one hand tucked beneath the waistband of the boy's jeans. He waited for Ryan to unlock the door and slip inside before following closely behind. It was more because he enjoyed crowding Ryan's space than because the human was unsteady on his feet, though Ryan's movements were slow, almost sluggish, as the lack of sleep caught up to him. Perhaps taking him out hadn't been the best idea, but if his selfishness had the added advantage of helping Ryan sleep, Brendon wasn't about to regret it.The house was quiet as they climbed the stairs, but Brendon could hear the deep snores coming from the master bedroom. Mr. Smith hadn't been sleeping much lately, either, and it seemed as though he'd finally run out of adrenaline to sustain him. Mrs. Smith hadn't been much better when they'd last seen her.Brendon tried to steer Ryan toward the guest bedroom at the top of the stairs, but the boy sidestepped him and continued down the corridor to Spencer's room. Brendon followed after him, a frown on his face as he watched Ryan peel off his wet sweater and throw it at the foot of the bed. He wasn't sure it was entirely healthy for Ryan to sleep in Spencer's room, especially given the very real possibility that his friend wouldn't be returning. He'd been gone for three days now, apparently vanishing into thin air. Not even Beckett seemed to know where he was, though Brendon wasn't sure whether to be troubled or relieved over that."What the...?" Ryan asked, pulling Brendon from his thoughts. He was sitting on the bed, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, staring at something just behind Brendon. The vampire turned and saw... nothing."Ryan?" he asked, confusion colouring his voice."His clothes are missing," Ryan said by way of explanation. He got to his feet, coming over to where Brendon was, and that's when the vampire saw the laundry basket by the door. "This was full," Ryan continued. "I watched his mother fold it this morning. I carried it up here myself."The boy knelt down and ran his fingers across the top layer of clothes, some of which had come unfolded, almost as though someone had been quick and messy about choosing what to take. The basket was only half full and, now that Brendon thought about it, he was pretty sure that he'd seen a horrible green shirt with an ugly band logo on the top."His bag is gone, too," Ryan said, turning his attention to the spot next to the desk where the backpack used to be. Brendon looked around the small room, trying to remember what it had looked like before they left. He hadn't paid attention though, and wasn't able to find much that was different. He did, however, notice something out of place when he turned back toward the bed."There's a book," he pointed out. "I can see the corner sticking out." Ryan was still on his knees next to the laundry basket, so he leaned down until his head was almost touching the carpet in order to see what Brendon was talking about. He looked ridiculous but Brendon managed to keep the observation to himself."All his school books are down there," Ryan said. "Like they were kicked away. Someone took his bag and his clothes.""Could Spencer have come back?" Brendon asked. He didn't think it was likely, given what Ryan had told him, but he didn't know much about the boy beyond second-hand descriptions."No!" Ryan said emphatically. "Spencer wouldn't do something like that!" He grew quiet for a moment, looking at Brendon with wide eyes. "You don't think someone...." He made a vague hand gesture and it took the vampire a moment to realise what Ryan was asking."No," Brendon said with a shake of his head. "If Spencer was a vampire, someone would have had to let him in. And even if they had, what would he want with his old clothes? None of the gangs wear hoodies and t-shirts," he pointed out."Then what the hell is going on?" Ryan demanded."I have no idea," Brendon said. It wasn't entirely true, though. Brendon's thoughts were going a mile a minute as he tried to make sense of what they'd just learned, trying to piece it together with what they already knew. He made his way to the open window and stared out at the wet yard below, watching the ripple of raindrops in puddles through narrowed eyes.First there was Jon Walker, who'd disowned his boy after taking his memories, all in some misguided attempt to keep him off Dandy radar.Then there was Beckett, who'd not only noticed Spencer, but had apparently begun taking him through Dandy circles, showing him off as one would a future fledgling. It was an outdated practice, but one Mike had done with Tom, though things had ended differently for them.Spencer went missing after one such outing, and Beckett obviously hadn't had anything to do with it - hiding the boy wasn't his style, and he wouldn't have such an irritated look on his face these days if he had.Tonight, someone had entered the Smith house and made off with some of Spencer's favourite clothes, things he'd worn often enough to have just come out of the wash. It meant Spencer was alive, and he was with someone who cared enough to bring him familiar things.Brendon felt like an idiot for not putting it together sooner. In his defense, he hadn't thought Jon Walker would actually be so stupid as to consider that a viable option. He turned away from the window and made his way across the room, heading for the door. He passed Ryan and ran his hand through the boy's hair before pushing him toward the bed."Get some sleep," he said."Wait, where are you going?" Ryan asked. Brendon turned slowly, leaning in the doorway, affecting a casual pose. He wished, not for the first time, that his mesmerism would work on Ryan. The last thing Brendon wanted was time to think about the huge taboo he was about to break. The urge to just turn and walk away was strong, but he stayed where he was. Ryan, unsurprisingly, responded better to explanations than to silence."It's late and you're tired," Brendon said."Because you're known for patting me on the head and making sure I get a full eight hours," Ryan replied sarcastically.Brendon didn't much appreciate the tone, but the vampire supposed he had no one else to blame for that but himself. He hadn't exactly been big on boundaries when it came to Ryan. It just figured that it was about to come back and bite him in the ass."You know something!" Ryan continued, his voice rising as he came to the realisation. At any other time, in any other situation, Brendon would have been proud of him for that. As it stood, he was just irritated. "You figured it out and you're going there!""Ryan, stop," Brendon said, his voice low. Anyone else would have recognized the warning for what it was, but Ryan was blinded to anything that didn't involve Spencer."No!" he exclaimed, closing the slight distance between them. His face was dark as he leaned close to Brendon, eyes flashing angrily as he made his displeasure known. He was about the same height as Brendon but, given time, the vampire knew he'd grow to be much taller, maybe even fill out enough for that extra height to become intimidating. It didn't matter in the end; it was a ridiculous move for a human to make regardless of size. Brendon might have been compact, but he still had a vampire's strength."You have to take me with you!" Ryan demanded. "Spencer is there all alone and I'm sure the last thing he wants to see is a vampire! He needs me!""Ryan-""You can't do this!"Maybe it was the plaintive tone of Ryan's voice, or possibly the way the volume kept rising. It could even have been the hand Ryan put on his arm, but whatever set him off, it was the last straw. Brendon's patience evaporated and he reached out to put his hand square in the center of Ryan's chest. He wasn't rough about it, didn't put even a fraction of his strength into the push, but the results were immediate: Ryan ended up all the way across the room, sprawled in the desk chair. His eyes were huge, heart pounding and breath coming fast, as he looked up at Brendon with a confused expression mixed with disbelief and a hell of a lot of fear. Brendon sighed and turned his hat over in his hands, thinking for a moment before pushing away from the door frame. Ryan's chair jumped sideways as he reacted to the movement before folding himself up with knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around them. Brendon sat on the edge of the bed, setting his hat out of the way, and watched the boy with a steady gaze.One step forward, twelve steps back, he thought. Ryan's expression was far too much like the way it had been when they'd first met."Ryan, come here," Brendon said.For a moment, he thought the boy would refuse, but he apparently thought better of it and slowly got to his feet. He took his time coming over, stopping when the toes of his dirty sneakers just barely touched Brendon's fine leather loafers."No, Ryan," Brendon repeated, "Come here."He reached out and grabbed hold of Ryan's belt loops, pulling steadily until the boy had no choice but to follow. His heart was still pounding, but Brendon put the sound out of his mind as he continued to draw Ryan forward, helping him up onto the bed until he was settled in Brendon's lap. His body was rigid, not at all relaxed like he usually was when they were like this. The vampire sighed. His hands were gentle as he ran them down Ryan's back, the touch meant to be soothing, to draw the tension out of his muscles. It didn't quite work that way, but Brendon wasn't deterred. He dropped a kiss to Ryan's mouth, a quick press of their lips together, repeating the action half a dozen times until Ryan tentatively kissed back. Brendon smiled a little against his mouth and pulled away, fixing Ryan with a serious look. He was glad to see that Ryan held his gaze."Now, what is it that you want, Ryan?" he asked pointedly."Where is Spencer?" Ryan asked quietly."He's with Jon Walker," Brendon replied. He continued to pet at Ryan's back, slipping his hands beneath the thin t-shirt."Is that the Dandy I saw?""Yes," Brendon said, running blunt nails down Ryan's spine just to see him shiver."Is he dangerous?" Ryan wondered."Absolutely," Brendon replied. He felt Ryan grow tense again and settled his hands on the boy's hips. "Jon is old, Ryan, older than anyone else in this city. With age comes strength and power. The people who cross him don't even have a chance to regret it, because they either die or they lose every scrap of memory in their heads." Ryan looked at him sharply at that and Brendon just nodded. "He did that to Spencer, but not as a punishment.""Well, it certainly wasn't a reward," Ryan said, beginning to sound much more like himself."No," Brendon agreed. "It's rare for one of us to disown someone, but it happens now and then. We're a possessive bunch; we'd rather kill someone than let them go." Brendon was pretty sure that Ryan's shiver this time had nothing to do with his touch."But he let Spencer go," Ryan said. His voice was terse and Brendon knew what he was thinking - doing such a bad job of taking the boy's memories and leaving him to suffer was hardly the same thing as letting him go, but it was the best comparison he could make."He did," Brendon said. "And he had his reasons for that." Ryan was looking at him suspiciously, his sharp mind putting it together, realizing that Brendon had inside knowledge about that. Brendon didn't feel like explaining himself, so he started in before Ryan could ask the questions Brendon could see in his eyes."Beckett's been putting his hands where they don't belong," he said pointedly. Ryan might not have mentioned anything, but Brendon was fairly certain that Jon hadn't lied about that. "He might have thought it would be in Spencer's best interest to keep him out of our circle.""You didn't think that," Ryan pointed out."I'm not that selfless," Brendon replied honestly. "I took what I wanted. I won't apologize for that.""I didn't ask you to," Ryan said softly. He was quiet for a moment before he shifted his weight a little, his thighs momentarily drawing tight around Brendon's hips. "You know, I thought Beckett was following me that time, but he was after Spencer, wasn't he? Pete said Spencer was with him the night he went missing. Spencer was so confused... it must have attracted attention.""What Jon did... it wasn't subtle," Brendon began, choosing his words carefully. "But Beckett wasn't the first vampire to find Spencer; Gerard tracked him down easily enough when he was here. I've never seen Jon that angry. Or scared," Brendon added, replaying the scene in his head: Jon's narrowed eyes, the surprise on his face, his parting exclamation. He had no doubt about it; they were still dealing with the aftermath of Gerard's visit."I don't care whose fault this is," Ryan said. "I just want Spencer to come home."Brendon sighed. "That might not be an option, Ryan, and you have to prepare yourself for that. Just because we know where he is doesn't mean Jon is going to pat Spencer on the head and send him home again. You need to understand something, here: Beckett or Jon, those are the only two options there are.""They're both shitty choices," Ryan said, the sharp edge of anger in his voice hiding the helpless feeling Brendon knew was eating away at him."They always are, when you're picking the lesser of two evils," Brendon replied.They sat in silence for several long minutes before Brendon pushed a little on Ryan's hips, telling him without words that he needed to stand up. As soon as the boy was on his feet, Brendon grabbed his hat and stood as well."Grab another sweater," he said, even though he knew it was an incredibly bad idea.Ryan scrambled to find something dry and Brendon didn't allow himself to have second thoughts about bringing Ryan with him. He had a vague idea of where to look, in a neighbourhood where he'd run into Jon more often than anywhere else. He'd never cared much about Jon's safe house, not like some of the others who'd made it their personal missions to discover its location. Any clues Brendon had managed to gather were purely accidental.Not that Jon would appreciate the distinction.-*-It was rare for Jon to sleep during the evening, and he disliked the feeling of disorientation and confusion that came with waking at such an unusual hour. There were no windows in the bedroom, but instinct told Jon that it couldn't be past midnight. He wasn't sure what woke him in the first place, but he put it out of his mind and looked over at Spencer. The boy was still sleeping tucked up against Jon's side, the fingers of one hand curled against his cheek. He was dreaming about something, eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. The mark on his neck was all but gone, nothing more than two light pink splotches against his pale skinJon looked down at his own wound, running his hand across the scabbed-over length of the cut. It would be no different than Spencer's in a few hours - light pink and barely there. For now, it itched a little and pulled as he moved.He was about to trail his fingers down the side of Spencer's neck when a muffled noise caught Jon's attention. That was it, then, the sound that had woken him up. It was troubling - his safe house was private, the penthouse inaccessible without a master key for the elevator. There shouldn't have been anyone in the hallway to make noise.Jon pulled away from Spencer, shushing him quietly and urging him back to sleep. His trousers were filthy, covered in grime from the fight as well as his own blood. He'd wanted to take them off before falling asleep, but hadn't thought Spencer would be all too happy with that when he awoke, even if he'd been groggy and not likely to argue after letting him feed. Jon slipped out of what was left of his ruined clothes and made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. There was no need to put Spencer on display.Somehow, Jon was not surprised to see Brendon standing on his doorstep; he seemed to have a knack for being where he wasn't wanted. He had no idea how Brendon had found his safe house, but that wasn't what annoyed Jon the most. No, that would be Ryan, who was standing next to Brendon, a serious expression on his face. He held himself perfectly straight, trying his best to make use of his height and appear grown up. Jon wondered if he'd actually have to point out that it was difficult to be intimidated by someone so slight, especially when he was wearing a baby blue sweater. With an irritated sigh, he punched the code into the keypad and threw open the door, unmindful of his nudity.Ryan, however, was not. He squawked and covered his eyes, though Jon thought there was entirely too much space left between his fingers to completely block the view."Laundry day, I see," Brendon remarked. Ryan's pointy fingers came up and poked him hard in the ribs. Jon could see the grimace even though Brendon did his best to hide it."You're not taking this seriously!" Ryan exclaimed, dropping his hand to glare over at Brendon, who only rolled his eyes."It's hard to when you're flailing," he said. Ryan's mutinous glare told Jon that he was missing something, that Brendon was somehow making fun of the boy beyond the obvious taunt."Are you both finished?" Jon asked. He leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms, regarding them with narrowed eyes."Where's Spencer?" Ryan asked. Brendon shot him a pointed look and the boy quieted down again, looking momentarily at his feet. Jon took note of that. Something had happened between them, something that Brendon intended to use to keep Ryan in check. He wished he knew what it was, it might prove useful."As much as we love to see you, Jon," Brendon began. "We've actually come to call on dear Spencer.""I don't know why you'd think that was even possible," Jon said, not bothering to deny Spencer's whereabouts. Brendon could no doubt smell him and that kind of lie was beneath Jon's dignity."Just let Ryan see him," Brendon said. "That's all I'm asking.""Maybe so," Jon said, "but what is he asking?" Jon fixed Ryan with a look, waiting for the boy to answer. Jon could see how much the question bothered Ryan. He was obviously torn between parroting Brendon's words and telling the truth."I want to talk to him," Ryan said. "I want to know he's okay."Jon studied him for a long moment, mulling the option over in his head. It was a bad idea, but not one he couldn't fix if things went wrong. It might even win him some brownie points with Spencer. His mind made up, Jon stepped away from the door and let Brendon and Ryan in."He's in the bedroom," Jon said. Ryan took off like a shot, leaving the two vampires alone. Jon closed the door and leaned against it, watching Brendon with interest. "What makes you think I won't just wipe both your memories?" he asked after a moment.Brendon, annoyance that he was, didn't even have the good grace to look scared."Because I don't actually think you enjoy living like this," he replied.It was close enough to the truth that Jon let him get away with it. For now.-*-Spencer was floating, his arms and legs strangely weightless and disconnected from his body. He didn't hurt, but he was a little uncomfortable. Part of his neck felt weird, tight like new skin just healed over an old wound. It was that thought, almost as much as the insistent hands on his shoulders, that caused Spencer's eyes to fly open and him to bolt upright in the bed. The sudden movement didn't agree with him, and Spencer's head swam."Oh," he groaned, covering his face with his hands. Someone eased him back down onto the bed and brushed his hair back. As he waited for the world to stop spinning, Spencer took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for what he'd see when he opened his eyes again. The hands on his forehead didn't belong to Jon; even when he was gentle, Spencer could feel the strength in his fingers. It wasn't William, either, Spencer wasn't likely to forget the badwrong feel of his touch. Finally, he lowered his hands and blinked his eyes open again, more carefully this time.Ryan grinned down at him."Just like you, Spence," he said. "We're freaking out and you're just lying in bed."Spencer didn't actually think Ryan was as relaxed as he was trying to sound. He'd known Ryan long enough to notice the slightly panicked tremor in his fingers, and to recognize the wide look in his eyes for the fear it was. He allowed Ryan to help him sit up against the headboard and then just took a minute to look at him. Ryan looked exhausted and afraid. Spencer wondered if he looked much the same."How did you find me?" he asked."Brendon," Ryan admitted. He looked a little uncomfortable for a moment, ducking his head and staring at the duvet. Whether he was embarrassed for not having told Spencer about Brendon or because Brendon had been the one to find his best friend, Spencer didn't know."So," Spencer said after a moment of silence. "Vampires.""Fucking vampires," Ryan agreed. They laughed a little at that, the last of the awkwardness disappearing. Ryan moved closer, wrapping his arms around Spencer in a tight hug. Spencer held on, not wanting to let go. Neither did Ryan, and they wiggled down the bed a little, wrapped around one another."Are you here to take me home?" Spencer asked before he could think better of it. He held his breath as he waited for an answer, his heart pounding in his chest. What a stupid thing to ask, he berated himself. What could Ryan do, really? Why make him feel worse?Though he'd tried to prepare himself, he still felt like crying when Ryan tentatively replied with, "I don't think he'll let me.""Yeah," Spencer said, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "I didn't think so. Is... is William looking for me?""Beckett?" Ryan asked. "Probably. Brendon said he's pretty pissed, but Brendon's been keeping his distance from the others. He's not exactly on good terms with them." At Spencer's quizzical look, Ryan elaborated. "Because of someone named Gerard. And me," he added, almost as an afterthought.Spencer let Ryan talk at length, filling Spencer in on everything he'd kept hidden, every thought he'd wished he could have shared, and every worry he'd had over the last few weeks. Spencer listened to it all, getting lost in the steadiness of Ryan's voice, finding the tension in his body slowly seep away as he moved a little closer. He'd always felt better when Ryan was around, and even though he knew he was being selfish by keeping him there, Spencer couldn't find it in himself to give that up."Did he hurt you?" Ryan asked once he'd finally run out of things to say."Jon?" Spencer asked. "No. I mean, other than not letting me leave. He thinks he's keeping me safe this way." Spencer was barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. "At one point, he talked about sending me away, somewhere that William wouldn't be able to get to me. There's a city, somewhere, that he's not allowed to go to." Quietly, he added, "He said you wouldn't be allowed to come with me.""No," Ryan agreed softly. "Even if Brendon allowed it, he's still technically one of Beckett's people. If Beckett can't go, there's no way Brendon could. And... I'm Brendon's." The last bit was said simply, as though that's just the way things were. Spencer tried to scrutinize Ryan's tone and demeanor, but his friend wasn't giving him much to go on, other than the fact that Ryan apparently believed it. It was the way of things, and he wasn't exactly fighting it."How?" Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper."He's marked me twice now," Ryan said, keeping his voice much like Spencer's. He moved so that he was facing his friend, their bent knees touching and their heads on the same pillow. "Gerard was coming and Brendon wanted me to be safe."What did it mean? Spencer wondered. Had Jon marked him and he just didn't know about it? He didn't think so. That seemed like the kind of thing a person would notice."It's like a warning, I guess," Ryan continued. "Other vampires can tell, they call me a Dandy. They don't come near me.""Jon said William...." Spencer's voice trailed off."Yeah," Ryan agreed. "He's a different story, but he hasn't done anything to me, not really. He knows better, I think.""He leads the city," Spencer pointed out. "And everyone is loyal to him. He can ask for whatever he wants if you're one of them." It was second-hand information, but Spencer felt like he was making a significant contribution regardless."But I'm not one of them," Ryan pointed out. "I don't want to be; Brendon knows that.""Do you really think that's going to matter?" Spencer asked. Ryan grew quiet again."I guess we'll deal with that when we get to it," he said after a moment. Whether he meant Beckett or Brendon, Spencer didn't know. "How do you know so much?" Ryan asked."Jon told me," Spencer replied. "I think he wanted me to understand.""Do you?" Ryan wanted to know."A little? Not really," Spencer admitted. "But there's something...." He trailed off again as he tried to find the right words for what he wanted to say. "I... cared about him. Before.""And now?""I don't know," Spencer said. "But I let him, you know.""You slept with him?" Ryan asked, eyeing the bed with narrowed eyes."Yeah, but also, you know." Spencer said."He bit you?" Ryan sat up at that, leaning over Spencer and examining his neck. His fingers were a little cold and Spencer shivered."Brendon's never?" he asked. Ryan shook his head, teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looked a little uncertain and Spencer couldn't figure out why."He never asked and I never offered," Ryan admitted."Jon never told me about marking," Spencer said, wanting, no matter how little sense it made, to let Ryan have something. Ryan was surprised at his words, looking down at Spencer incredulously. "Unless it happened the first time, but he hasn't said, and I don't feel any different. He said you were... different."Ryan nodded, but he didn't say anything to that. Spencer watched as he became lost in thought, his brain no doubt working at putting things together so he could make sense of them."If he's worried about you becoming one of them, it might not matter," Ryan said finally. "But in the meantime it'll keep the others away from you. The thing is... it's like this huge thing, Brendon said, to be responsible for someone else. You can't take it back."Spencer wasn't stupid - vampires killed people. That seemed to be a damn good way of 'taking it back', but he kept the thought to himself."I don't think responsibility is going to be a problem," Spencer pointed out. "Look at his grand solution.""Yeah," Ryan snorted. He looked at Spencer then, watching him critically, weighing the pros and cons of asking the question that was running through his head. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "Is it worth it? Yeah, he might let you go home, but you're not going to get rid of him, Spence. You'll always belong to him."Spencer took note of the emphasis Ryan put on that word. It was a fair question - was he prepared for that? Was going home worth it if it was only temporary? There was no doubt in his mind that it would be just that - temporary. If their time together had taught Spencer anything, it was that Jon's twisted sense of duty, his need to hide Spencer away to keep him safe, all came out of some kind of feeling. Whether it was obsession, lust, or something else, something he didn't quite want to name yet, Spencer wasn't exactly sure. Still, he knew there was some kind of strong emotion driving his actions, and something like that didn't just go away. It was only a matter of time before Jon wanted more than Spencer's mortality could give him."We are so fucked up," he said."We are," Ryan agreed, patting his shoulder.-*-"I'm guessing you used your talents on the guard downstairs so you could get his key, so I won't even bother to ask about that. What I do want to know is how you even found this place to begin with," Jon said as he firmly closed the door behind the bookcase. He'd been loath to leave Brendon in the apartment alone, but the novelty of his nudity had worn off fairly quickly after Ryan scampered away. He smoothed a hand down his wine-red waistcoat and swung the bookcase back into place. Brendon hadn't moved much in the time he'd been alone; he was still standing near the window, staring down at the headlights far below."Deduction," Brendon replied, not turning away from the window. "I've crossed paths with you in this neighbourhood before. This was the only suitable building around here."Jon raised an eyebrow at that. He hadn't realised he'd been quite that obvious with Brendon. The thought annoyed him. The invasion of his personal space would have been easier to take if one of Ryan's visions was the cause of it."And as for what prompted me to look for you, I'll just say that the laundry basket probably wasn't your best bet," Brendon continued. He turned away from the window then and fixed Jon with a long look. It made Jon want to laugh - whose space was being invaded? Who had the right to question whom in this particular situation?"What happened to your side?" Brendon finally asked.Jon's hand went to the wound, pushing a little with the heel of his hand. It was healing, though it was taking a lot out of him. Jon could still feel a sleepy lethargy in his limbs as his strength was diverted toward repairing the damage and knitting the flesh back together."I crossed paths with someone unfriendly," Jon replied. "It seems your police officers were rather suspicious.""Probably," Brendon agreed. "Should I apologize for that? It's not as though any of this," he gestured around the room, "makes a damn lick of sense."Jon shrugged his shoulders in a smooth, graceful motion. He knew it didn't make sense, and he knew that it certainly wasn't one of his better ideas, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He'd already had his moment of anger and self-doubt. Knowing he'd acted completely on raw emotion hadn't made it easier to understand, not when he'd spent so much time holding tightly to his control. There'd just been something so wrong about doing the right thing only to have it all be for nothing."You're the one who wanted him to have protection," Jon pointed out. It was facetious and Jon knew it. He fully expected Brendon's exasperated sigh."Yes, Jon. A mark, or at the very least some kind of declaration. Not a locked door," he said."I don't have to explain anything to you," Jon said. "You can't even control your own human, yet you expect me to take pointers from you about how to care for mine?""Ryan might not be predictable but he's certainly never boring," Brendon said. "You'll find that humans are more accommodating when they're not tethered.""This has nothing to do with keeping him happy," Jon said."Obviously," Brendon replied."You wouldn't dare to act this way with anyone else," Jon said, his irritation evident in both his expression and his tone. It was true; he knew that Brendon was more than capable of making his point without outright rudeness. Most Dandies learned to be subtle in their persuasiveness, but Brendon had honed his skills at Jon's side in Brian's city. Brian was nothing if not strict when it came to matters such as those."No, I wouldn't," Brendon agreed. "But we have history, you and I, as much history as someone as young as myself can have," he added, seeing Jon's quirked eyebrow. "So anything else, any fine words and sugar coating, is nothing but a lie. I'm being honest when I say that you fucked up.""You're being crass," Jon said, turning away from Brendon and heading toward the apartment's small kitchen, which was just off the main entryway."And you're doing what I just said I wouldn't," Brendon said. "Don't you think I deserve the same courtesy?""Courtesy?" Jon asked incredulously, turning to stare at Brendon as though he'd gone insane. "You've come to my safe house uninvited, you've dared to pass judgment on one of your elders, and you're asking me for courtesy?""I'm not doing anything to you that you haven't already done to yourself," Brendon said confidently. "And if you'll stop being defensive for a minute, you'll see that I'm here to help you.""Let's hear your brilliant plan, then," Jon said, arms spread and expression impatient. "What do you want me to do? Beckett found him, he had his hands on my boy as though they belonged there. Spencer didn't want him, I knew that because I've seen him when he's playful, nervous, or needy. He was just scared, and I didn't like that, so I took him back, damn the consequences. How do I undo that, Brendon?""You don't," Brendon said fiercely, closing the distance between himself and Jon. "You keep him. Mark him now and keep him with you. When it comes time to turn him, if you're still worried, send him to another city. I don't expect you to uproot yourself for him permanently, but you can travel between the two. Maja would watch out for him, you know that. She'd give you an open invitation; you could see him whenever you wanted.""If I turn him, he's not going anywhere," Jon said. There was no mistaking the possessive tone of his voice. It felt good, right."Then we'll deal with that when we get to it," Brendon said. Jon didn't miss the we. He supposed they were both in the same boat now. Maybe he'd do well to let Brendon help."Okay," he said."Jon?" Both vampires turned toward the bedroom, where Spencer and Ryan were standing in the doorway, hands linked loosely together. There was a serious expression on Spencer's face, trying to mask the thread of fear Jon could see in his eyes. It was the look Spencer got when he was trying so very hard to be grown up. All it did was remind Jon of how young he was.Jon was vaguely aware of Brendon stepping back from him, holding out his hand for Ryan to come away from his friend, but Jon's attention was fixed on Spencer. The boy fidgeted in place for a moment, unsure of what to do without Ryan beside him, but he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders."Can I talk to you?" he asked.Jon nodded and wondered how much of his conversation with Brendon the boys had overheard. Not that it mattered. He ushered Spencer back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.-*-Spencer didn't know what he planned to say; he hadn't exactly had time to think that far ahead. He had a vague idea of what he wanted, Ryan had been specific enough about that part, at least, as well as the myriad of possible side effects Spencer might end up suffering, but he hadn't exactly been much help in helping Spencer to figure out how to ask for it. This was a big deal, Spencer knew that without having to be told, and he had no idea of the etiquette involved. Was it rude to come out and ask? The Dandies seemed to care about that stuff; at least, it was something that Jon seemed to fall back on whenever he was frustrated or annoyed with something. Spencer suspected he did it in other situations, too, but it wasn't like Jon was willing to give up that much of himself at the moment.The fact that Spencer was thinking in terms of "now" vs. "later" should probably have been more troubling than it was. Spencer put the blame squarely on Ryan, with his stupid wide eyes and whispered confessions."Spencer?" Jon asked after a moment of silence that stretched a little too long. He stood near the dresser, leaning against it casually, but something about his stance was wrong. Spencer sank down on the bed and just looked at the vampire, taking in his carefully blank expression, the set of his shoulders, the slight stiffness in the way he held himself. He was anything but relaxed, and Spencer couldn't help but think that he'd never have noticed that if not for... whatever it was between them. They'd only known each other for two weeks, but so much must have happened. It killed him that he'd never get to know exactly what."I was talking to Ryan," Spencer said, cringing a little at the way he'd chosen to start his sentence. Of course he'd been talking to Ryan - Jon had let him in, after all."And what has Ryan been telling you?" Jon asked. His tone was conversational, carefully blank and meaningless. He wanted to see what Spencer was going to say, and he didn't want to offer anything up in return until he knew."Don't," Spencer said, surprised by the feeling he was able to put into one word, surprised even more to find that it was genuine. "Don't stand there like this doesn't mean anything. I have something important to say."The expression on Jon's face softened, becoming more genuine, and he pushed away from the dresser to close the distance between them. He sat down next to Spencer on the bed and waited quietly."How's your side?" Spencer asked, suddenly almost shy, needing a moment to find his courage again."Healing," Jon replied. "Thank you for that."That was unexpected and Spencer ducked his head a little, letting his hair fall across his face. "You're welcome," he said."What is it you want to say, Spencer?" Jon asked gently. Spencer wondered if Jon knew what he was about to ask, if that was some kind of ulterior motive for his tone. In the end he decided it didn't matter, he would just come out and say it."If you marked me, would I be able to go home?" he asked. "Ryan said it was like a warning, it would keep the others away.""It would," Jon said. "But it wouldn't keep me away. You do realise that, don't you? If we do this, there's no taking it back, no matter what. You'll never get rid of me."Spencer barked out a bitter laugh. "I can still feel your hands on me, you know," he said. "It's not as strong as it was, not since you...." his voice trailed off and he sighed. "Not since that first night," he said. "But it's still there, Jon, and I don't think it's ever going away. Even if I didn't have that, there are fucking vampires out there. Every time I see one, I'm going to think about you. Every time I watch the news, I'm going to wonder if it was you. Even if this wasn't for keeps, do you really think I'd ever get rid of you?""No, I suppose not," Jon said, shaking his head a little."Will you do it?" Spencer asked."I'm not Brendon," Jon said, the warning clear in his voice. Spencer looked up at him, taking in the serious look on his face. "I don't have his... easy nature. We were raised differently, he and I. He was spoiled, doted on, and he's used to getting what he wants."Spencer nodded, not quite sure what to make of the statement, but willing to see how it played out. He turned a little, bending one leg and shifting around on the bed so that he was facing the vampire beside him."I was taught that there was always something more important than possessions," Jon continued. "I never had anything that was mine before."Spencer felt a flare of irritation at being referred to as a possession, but he pushed it aside for the time being."I ruined things, I understand that. Brendon and Ryan, with all their issues, are nothing compared to the two of us." Jon laughed softly at that, and Spencer couldn't help but grin a little. He was right. "You need to know what you're asking for. I won't change my mind after this; I won't send you to Brian, or Maja, or anyone else. You'll belong to me, I won't give you up.""I know," Spencer said. And he did. It might take a few days to really sink in, but in the here and now, he got it. This wasn't just a game to play so he'd be allowed to go home again. He thought back to the look on Ryan's face as he talked about what it was like, and beneath the trepidation and embarrassment was actual desire. Spencer was pretty sure he'd had that same look on his face once. He thought that maybe it would come back, in time."Okay then," Jon said. "Come here." He held a hand out and Spencer stared at it stupidly for a moment before shuffling closer. Jon closed strong fingers around Spencer's wrist and tugged a little, letting go as soon as Spencer got the hint and moved to straddle his lap. He settled down carefully, even though he wasn't exactly sore anymore, but the last thing he wanted to do was give Jon the wrong impression, especially when Ryan and Brendon were right outside the door.Spencer watched with wide eyes as Jon took off his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his cream-coloured shirt. He then reached into his pocket and drew out a small pearl-handled switchblade. He looked at Spencer for a moment, no doubt trying to gauge his reaction. "Are you ready?" he asked.Spencer nodded and Jon made a small cut at the base of his throat.The hand cupping the back of Spencer's head was gentle but insistent as it drew him forward. The boy's eyes were fixed on the blood as it ran down the side of Jon's neck, pooling along his collarbone. It was so red, such a vivid contrast to Jon's skin, still pale after his recent blood loss, even after feeding on Spencer. It was creeping ever closer to the fine fabric of Jon's shirt and it would stain, Spencer knew. That shirt would be completely ruined, he told himself, and that's the only reason he darted forward to lick across Jon's skin, the taste of blood a strong coppery tang on his tongue. He lapped at the smears before fixing his mouth over the cut, not sucking but running his tongue over the torn skin until the flow began to slow and then stop altogether.Jon eased him back, even though Spencer didn't want to go. He kept his hands tight on the vampire's shoulders instead, not willing to give up all contact. Eyes half closed, he licked his lips a little, absently chasing the taste across his mouth. It was weird, but Spencer wasn't even going to deny that he liked it. Maybe it was the role reversal, being the one on top, in control, even if it was only an illusion. He looked at Jon, then, wanting to see his reaction. Maybe he'd come on too strong, taken too much. Was there such a thing as being slutty for something like this? Spencer wasn't sure, but he knew he didn't want to come off as cheap. Although, what kind of boy slept with a vampire after knowing him only two weeks?Come to think of it, what kind of boy slept with a vampire, period?The thought disappeared the moment he caught sight of the dark look in Jon's eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his gaze hungry and intense, and Spencer knew it had nothing to do with food."Jon?" he said softly, shifting forward a little, just far enough to feel that he was hard. Spencer moaned quietly, torn between moving away and sliding closer. He wasn't ready to forgive the three days he'd spent locked away, no matter what sensory memory his body was clamouring for."Brendon will make sure you get home alright," Jon said, his voice rough as he set Spencer back on his feet. "He'll stop your parents from asking too many questions.""But -" Spencer stayed where he was, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he shifted his weight from foot to foot."Are you taking Mulligan with you?" Jon asked, talking right over anything Spencer was going to say."I can't," Spencer said. "My dad has allergies."Jon nodded. "He can stay here, then." The vampire got to his feet and pressed a hand firmly to the small of Spencer's back, leading him toward the door and not giving him a chance to protest again. Spencer wasn't stupid, he knew why he was being dismissed - he was even a little grateful for it - but he didn't want to leave things like that between them."Jon, stop." The words had the desired effect, even though that surprised Spencer a little. Spencer swallowed hard and reached up, taking Jon's face in his hands, holding him still so he could kiss him. He licked into Jon's mouth, tentative at first, but the vampire's reaction was immediate - as soon as he tasted the blood on Spencer's tongue, he backed the boy up against the door, rattling it in its frame so hard that there was no way the others couldn't possibly know what they were doing. Spencer moaned low in his throat as Jon crowded him, his hands rough on Spencer's hips."You need to go," Jon said after a minute, pulling away and licking at Spencer's mouth."Yeah," Spencer said. Jon stepped back and Spencer reached for the doorknob, pulling the door open and making his way into the main apartment. Brendon and Ryan were standing by the window, talking quietly. They stopped when they noticed him standing there but didn't come any closer, waiting, no doubt, for some kind of sign from Jon."Take him home," Jon said.Ryan wasted no time in hurrying over, taking Spencer's hand tightly in his own. Brendon stayed where he was for a moment longer, looking at Jon and judging the situation before apparently coming to some conclusion and stepping away from the window.Spencer allowed himself to be tugged toward the door, Ryan's fingers linked with his. He should be happy; this is what he'd wanted for days now. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of... something - regret, maybe; confusion, certainly - as he looked back at Jon. As he stepped out into the hall, he shivered despite the warm air. Being led away, twisting around to watch Jon ... it felt entirely too much like it had back at the restaurant.-*-Brendon should have been jealous; it would even be justified given the way Ryan was hanging onto Spencer's arm. Were it anyone else, he might have given into the possessive streak in him, pulled Ryan up against his side, and kept him there with whispered words or brute strength. Only the fact that it was Spencer, without whom Ryan had been completely miserable, kept him from overreacting."What am I supposed to tell them?" Spencer asked as he got out of Brendon's car. He didn't rush up to the house like Brendon had thought he would, instead he just stayed on the curb, rocking back and forth."Tell them you won your freedom in a poker game," Brendon suggested. He ducked his head to hide his smile at Ryan's deadly glare. "It doesn't matter what you tell them," Brendon said seriously after a moment. "There could be rock pygmies involved and they'll still buy it. That's why I'm here, Spencer.""Jon said you'd make it so my parents don't ask questions," Spencer said. Beside him, Ryan nodded quietly, threading his fingers through Spencer's. "Is it going to hurt them?" he asked, looking over at Ryan. Brendon stayed silent since the question wasn't directed at him."I don't know," Ryan said. "He's never used it on me."Spencer looked at Brendon in surprise. The vampire rolled his eyes."Don't think that I'm some selfless creature who believes in the sanctity of true love or anything like that," Brendon warned. "It doesn't work on him, end of story." He pointedly ignored Ryan's irritated look. Perhaps it wasn't right to word it precisely the way he had, and yes, he did enjoy Ryan and most of the trouble he caused, but there was no sense in completely sugar-coating the reality of what he was. He wasn't above a little trickery if it got him what he wanted. "But to answer your question, Spencer: no. It won't hurt them," Brendon replied."Come on," Spencer said, taking a deep breath and stepping away from the curb. "Let's get this over with." He squared his shoulders and quickened his pace, all but dragging Ryan behind him. They let themselves into the house and made their way up the stairs, to the master bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Smith were sleeping."You have your story?" Ryan asked."Not the truth," Brendon warned."Yeah," Spencer replied, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he were afraid of waking his parents. "Yeah, I've got something.""Good. Let's go." Brendon opened the bedroom door and ushered the boys inside. Spencer made his way to the side of the bed and Brendon followed, setting Ryan off to the side so he had a clear view of the humans the moment they woke."Go on, Spence," Ryan urged when Spencer just stood there silently."Mom? Dad?" Spencer asked tentatively."Louder," Brendon instructed."Mom. Dad." Spencer's voice rang out in the quiet bedroom and both of his parents woke at the same time. Mrs. Smith's eyes flew open and she rolled over onto her side before pushing herself into a sitting position. Mr. Smith just bolted upright, looking around in groggy confusion."Spencer!" his mother exclaimed, all but crawling over her husband to grab her son. Spencer's father sat there, frozen for a moment more before wrapping his arms around the boy and pulling him close."Where have you been?" he demanded.You will believe every word he says, were the instructions Brendon sent. There is nothing suspicious or odd about whatever story he is about to tell you. Everything will go back to the way it was. You will not worry about this again."There were these guys," Spencer said, his voice a little shaky and mostly muffled by his mother's shoulder. "But I'm back now."Once Brendon was certain that his suggestions had taken hold, he led Ryan out of the room and closed the door behind them."Give them some time," he said."Thank you," Ryan said. He reached out, the palm of one hand sliding down Brendon's side while the other hand gripped the vampire's forearm. "You didn't have to do that.""No, I didn't," he agreed. "But I wanted to.""Would you really...." Ryan began. "What you told Spencer?"It wasn't difficult for Brendon to follow the fractured thought back to their conversation outside. Would he really use his gift to keep Ryan with him? "Absolutely," he replied. "I'm a vampire," he reminded Ryan, tipping the boy's face back up when he tried to hide his expression. "I'd do whatever it took." He dropped a sweet, closed-mouth kiss on Ryan's lips. "That doesn't mean I'm not happy with the way it turned out."Ryan nodded quietly."It's late," Brendon said. "They're going to be awhile. You should try to sleep.""Yeah," Ryan said, and though he'd agreed, Brendon didn't actually think he'd do it."I'll see you tomorrow night," Brendon said. He stepped around the boy, running his hand across the small of his back, smiling a little to feel him shiver.-*-Staying at the apartment with nothing but the cat for company just wasn't an option. Jon finished getting ready, buttoning his shirt again, putting his tie back on, and returning to his private rooms for the jacket he'd left in the closet. He studied himself in the mirror, smoothing his hands down the front of his clothes, and allowed his expression to go blank. There was no hiding what he'd done, but that was the whole point of Brendon's suggestion, wasn’t it? Flaunt Spencer like Beckett had, only this time have him declared officially off limits. Beckett wouldn't be happy for his game to have ended, but it probably wouldn't come as a shock. How could it, with all the taunting he'd done? The only thing that mattered was that Spencer had been given a reprieve, no matter how temporary it was. Brendon was right: they'd just have to deal with the rest when they came to it.Jon reached for a hat and pulled it down low over his eyes before heading for the door. He could still feel the pull of healing skin and the drag of his clothing over the thick scabs on his side, but he put it out of his mind. It was still kind of sore, but the pain was little more than a throbbing ache and nothing he couldn't deal with. Even if he ran into trouble on his way to the Dandy house (or at the Dandy house, there was a first time for everything), he'd be all right. Even reopening the wound at this point wouldn't be much of a problem now that the worst of it had healed.After a quick stop at the guard's desk in the lobby, meant to ensure that Brendon had returned the key he stole, Jon headed outside. It was no longer raining, so he took his time as he wandered the streets, finding a drunk teenager to feed on in a dark alley behind a dive bar. The boy didn't put up much of a fight, which made the whole experience rather boring. Jon shook his head as he dropped the body to the ground. It was a sad day, indeed, when he couldn't even find something to interest him in the hunt.There was no point in delaying the inevitable, Jon knew. He'd have to return to the Dandy house eventually, and the longer he put it off, the more time he'd have to think about Spencer, the weight of him in Jon's lap, the feel of his mouth as he licked and sucked at the cut on Jon's throat. He'd make an incredible vampire, Jon knew. His sharp mind, the intensity with which he felt, his strong sense of loyalty - they would all do him exceptionally well as a Dandy.No good could come of thinking of those things at the moment, so Jon set them aside and focused his attention on his surroundings, taking care to watch the shadows, to keep an eye out for hunters. It wouldn't do to be caught unawares.His trip across town was uneventful, for which Jon was grateful. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the two hunters he'd met with earlier in the evening, or anyone with an eye toward avenging their injuries. Things would be tense enough in the Dandy house without adding the possibility of Jon injuring Beckett's fledgling. There was still a connection there, despite Pete's protestations and his every attempt to shrug it off. No matter what else Beckett was, no matter what he did, he was still sentimental. He might not have been prepared for the trouble an immortal Pete Wentz would cause, but he had enough fond memories - real or imagined - that he refused to let go of.The Butcher was standing on the front step of the safe house as Jon made his way up the path. He had one hand on Siska's shoulder as he explained something in a quiet tone, the younger vampire listening with rapt attention. Siska had such a serious look on his face that Jon smothered a smile as he approached. Any lightheartedness he felt disappeared the instant Butcher turned away from his fledgling, fixing Jon with a hard look. It was obvious that they could both smell Spencer on him, that they'd most likely been around see Beckett put the boy on display."You should be careful," Butcher warned. Siska stared at Jon with mild fascination and a little bit of disbelief, but he'd been taught well enough to hold his tongue."He was mine to begin with," Jon said, his tone harsher than he knew was warranted for a warning from a friend. Butcher looked as though there was something he wanted to say to that, but Jon didn't give him the opportunity for it. Voicing his concerns in public was not a good idea. "I just made sure he wouldn't stray," Jon continued, leaving it at that. He pushed past the two vampires and headed into the house."Jon Walker!" Beckett's voice rang out from the parlour just off the entry hall. Jon turned left and made his way to the sitting room, leaning in the doorway and tucking his hat under his arm. Beckett was sitting in his usual chair, teacup in hand, but he wasn't alone. Darren was sitting in the wing-back chair opposite him, one leg crossed over the other, what looked like a travel itinerary in his hand. Darren was quiet, conscientious, and though Jon hadn’t had many dealings with him, he respected the other Dandy for the steadiness of his calm demeanor."Yes?" Jon asked, his voice flat as he shifted his gaze from Darren back to Beckett. The leader of the Dandies was watching Jon with a small smile on his face, though it quickly grew strained as he caught the scent of something unexpected. Jon kept his gaze steady, refusing to look away or seem guilty. That would be key to getting out of this with a minimal amount of damage done."I've heard things, Jon Walker," Beckett said, his smile returning, though much less genuine this time. Jon quirked an eyebrow, silently asking him to continue. "Things involving hunters and daring escapes, though it would seem that there are other, more interesting, things my spies hadn't gotten around to mentioning."Jon fixed Beckett with a long look, taking in the slight tension in his shoulders, the carefully inquisitive look on his face, and a myriad of other small things that combined to ruin the look of calm and casualness he was trying to portray. He was annoyed at the very least, angry at the worst, but there was little he could do about it. By Beckett's own logic, Jon hadn't done anything wrong. If there was no mark, there was no law to be broken."The hunters were easy enough to get rid of," Jon replied after a moment. "They were clumsy and overconfident. Pete needs to train them better if they hope to accomplish anything other than picking off the occasional stray Punk." It was a lie, Pete's hunters were better trained than most, save the Ieros, but there was no way Jon was going to admit it."As for the rest?" Beckett prodded, leaning back in his chair and waiting expectantly. If he wanted Jon to lie or to excuse his behaviour, he'd be waiting a very long time."Spencer decided to come home," Jon said simply. "I was hardly going to turn that down twice." The admission that he'd done it once before was deliberate; there was no point in pretending he hadn't, not when Beckett had proof in the way of that damn bloody handkerchief."Ah," Beckett said carefully. "How fortunate for him.""Quite," Jon agreed."Well, I wondered when you'd get around to doing it," Beckett said after a moment. "Honestly, Jon, leaving that poor thing to run around the city so confused, it was downright criminal of you. You can't blame me for wanting to give you a little nudge."Jon smiled at the revisionist history and wondered whether Beckett actually believed that version of events. The vampire mind wasn't all that different from the human one when it came to rationalization and rewriting unpleasant memories. It was even easier to do, given their long lives: they could get far enough away from the events that no one remembered how they'd actually happened."Of course not," Jon said, coming further into the room. "No one can blame you for that. How thoughtful of you, really.""I'm a very thoughtful man," Beckett agreed. "Darren will be leaving us shortly, did you know that, Jon?" It was clear that their conversation was over, more than likely never to be brought up again. Jon didn't blame Beckett for that - there had to be more than a little sting in knowing Jon had put an end to his game so soon."No, I didn't know," Jon said, turning his attention back to Darren. He looked a little confused, as though he wasn't quite sure what he'd just witnessed."Maja's sending us someone," Beckett said before Darren could reply. "It seems her city's become a little too dangerous for her liking. Her fledgling has been targeted not only by the hunters, but also the Hoods. She can't afford any weak links in her chain, though I'm sure that's not the only reason she's sending Felix to us."Jon agreed, he'd spent almost a year in Maja's city before being recalled to Beckett's side to deal with Gerard, and he knew how much she doted on her only fledgling. He was young, impetuous, but she adored him just the same. It was rare for sire/fledgling relationships to not have some kind of sexual edge, but theirs was one of the few. Felix had caught her eye for completely platonic reasons that Jon still didn't understand. Why go to that amount of trouble for someone you would only tuck into bed at the end of the night?A mean voice in his head told Jon that there was a good chance that was all he'd do with Spencer for quite some time, but he didn't let it bother him. It was all too easy to remember the hot slide of Spencer's mouth, the movements of his clever tongue. He'd fight it at first, but Jon was confident that Spencer would come to his senses sooner rather than later."Things must have gone downhill quickly after the Butcher and I left," Jon said."Apparently," Beckett said. "Felix will be arriving later tonight, but Darren will be leaving in less than an hour. Hopefully he'll be able to help. The last thing anyone wants is for the Hoods to gain a foothold in her city; it would set a dangerous precedent."It was true, word would spread quickly and vampires in other cities would start to get ideas. A Dandy losing power was bad for them all. What Jon didn't understand was why Beckett would trade Darren of all people. He was strong enough for his age, but he lacked the experience necessary to be truly useful given the situation. Hadn't Maja asked for more substantial help? She was a shrewd leader, skilled and strong, and she understood the need to put vanity aside and ask for help if it was best for the city. So why wasn't she getting the help she must have asked for?Was it due to more hurt feelings? Their trades were usually fair - a fledgling for a fledgling, an Old One for an Old One. When Jon and the Butcher had been sent, Beckett had received two envoys of equal rank and ability. Had Beckett simply been irritated to be asked to give someone of power in exchange for a fledgling who'd barely begun to show his talents? It seemed more malevolent than Jon wanted to believe.Still, he knew better than to question it."What time is Felix due to arrive?" Jon asked instead."Within the hour," Beckett replied. "The Butcher and Carden will go with the young ones. They've never been to greet an envoy before, this is a perfect opportunity."Anyone else would consider it an insult for a collection of fledglings to meet them but Felix wouldn't know any better. Even if he did, the Butcher and Mike's presence might sooth any hurt feelings."I can go with them," Jon offered."No, that's alright," Beckett said. "I have something else you can do."Jon was hardly surprised to find himself running errands, visiting with local police and paying off politicians. He was even a little glad of it, meeting envoys was a boring, stuffy affair. Dandies did so love their traditions.-*-The airport was the Butcher's least favourite place to be. He hated the smells, the sounds, and the fact that not even they could get their flights to run on time. He checked his pocket watch once more and sighed. Twenty minutes late. There were better things he could be doing with his time than standing on the tarmac, waiting for a fledgling of all people. He tried not to let it bother him - their fledglings could hardly be trusted to meet the envoy on their own and there was no way he was comfortable letting Siska out of his sight. In that regard, his presence was necessary, hardly an insult at all. Carden, on the other hand, had no such excuses to fall back on. There was no reason for him to be there at all, and his impatience was written all over his face.Butcher was surprised that Beckett would do that to him; he'd thought for sure that Brendon would end up having to babysit Nate and Micheal, not to mention Felix.Siska stood to the Butcher's left, his body thrumming with barely-contained energy. He was excited, but also determined to keep himself in check. He was a good fledgling, he'd taken to Dandy life extremely well, even though he'd had little choice in the matter. While the Butcher didn't quite understand those with the need to get permission before turning someone, even he'd thought things had moved a little fast with Siska. He'd only watched the kid for three days before deciding to keep him, and in those three days he'd only had one conversation with him. It was nothing like the way Maja had chosen Felix; it much closer resembled the way Beckett had chosen Pete.But things had turned out remarkably better than that, so Butcher put it out of his mind. Though that wasn't to say he hadn't worried for a few days.Siska caught him staring and smiled a little, ducking his head to hide the expression. Butcher ran a hand down the length of his boy's back, slow and easy, just because he could."Stop it," Carden snapped. Butcher looked over to see him glaring, pocket watch in hand.Butcher made a point of petting Siska again before glancing over and giving the mesmerist a dirty look. Carden would do well to respect his elders, even if there was only a 40 year difference between them. He was tempted to say something cutting, maybe point out how Carden's inability to keep his own boy was his fault and no one else's, but there was a time and a place for everything. Airing dirty laundry in public would accomplish nothing."Finally!" he heard Carden mutter. Butcher turned his attention to the sky and saw the plane approaching.Finally was right, Butcher thought. He'd never say it out loud; there was no point in agreeing with Carden when he was in a mood. It would only encourage him.Butcher watched as several humans hurried around the landing strip, all dressed in identical dark blue coveralls. Two carried clipboards and were looking over a checklist, talking softly about preflight inspections. Two others had a trolley with them, ready to see to any baggage the passenger might have. There was a fuel truck approaching, hanging back until the plane had safely landed. Apparently the pilots wouldn't be made to wait a fraction of the time the Dandies had. The thought made Butcher even more irritated than he already was.It wasn't long until the plane, a small Cessna twin engine, touched down on the tarmac, rolling to a stop not far from where the vampires stood. The Butcher was about to take a step forward when Nate's hand shot out, tightly gripping to the elder vampire's wrist. Butcher looked at him, intent on asking him to kindly remove his hand if he wanted to keep it, when he caught sight of the look on the fledgling's face."What's wrong?" he asked."Why are they nervous?" Nate asked, inclining his head toward the humans who were busily moving toward the plane. "This is routine, why are they scared? I can see it, shades of purple mixed with black. I think that means they're afraid."Butcher was moving, Carden right behind him, before Nate even finished speaking. His talent was new, hardly focused enough to be reliable all the time, but he couldn't see something that wasn't there. If the humans were agitated, there was a reason for it. The fact that they were moving toward Maja's envoy was telling.The door to the plane swung open, the stairs folding out, and the humans burst into action. Three of them rushed the stairs, taking them two at a time and knocking Felix back. They were very well trained, knew where to hit to render him off balance, how to subdue him. Butcher raced for the stairs, easily dodging the stake in the hand of the lone hunter who'd stayed on the tarmac. He shoved her aside, putting most of his phenomenal strength into it, directing her toward Carden who was only a few steps behind him. Though he didn't stop to look, Butcher knew that the younger vampire had no trouble grabbing her, knocking her to the ground and making sure that she stayed where he put her.As he bounded up the stairs, he heard the fuel truck screech to a halt and footsteps pound across the tarmac. There was a familiar voice screaming over the chaos and Butcher did chance a look over his shoulder then, needing to see with his own eyes just who it was. Pete stood in the middle of the fray, stake in hand as he watched his companions - one in a cast, another with bandages up to his elbow - circle around the three young Dandies the Butcher and Carden had left behind."Go back!" he yelled at Carden. The mesmerist faltered and, even though it was only for a moment, it was enough that the hunters were able to get the advantage. Nate went down hard with a vial of holy water to the face, screaming and writhing on the tarmac. Whether it was accidental or calculated, his flailing arm caught hold of the fair-haired hunter's ankle, jerking him off his feet. There was the sound of breaking glass as the rest of vials shattered as he hit the ground. Butcher turned away from the scene, then, his attention focused on the envoy and the three hunters who'd cornered him inside the plane.The smell of blood - human and vampire - was strong, even from the doorway. There was a gurgling sound from the back of the plane and Butcher hurried up the aisle, searching each row to make sure none of the hunters were lying in wait. He found one human dead of a broken neck in the third row and kept on going, making his way toward a pair of shiny wingtips he could just see sticking out into the aisle up ahead.One of the hunters jumped up from where she was huddled in the fifth row, stake in hand, but she was easily put down. Butcher's fingers circled around her neck, gripping hard enough that he could lift her off her feet. Her body went flying toward the door and he didn't bother to look back when he heard her hit the wall. He ran the rest of the way to the back row."Motherfucker," Butcher cursed when he got there. Felix was lying in a pool of his own blood, a small wooden stake lodged firmly in his chest. His skin was ashen, his breathing laboured and eyelids drooping. He wouldn't last much longer. The last hunter was lying on his side next to the vampire, not much left of his throat. He'd been the one gurgling earlier."Felix?" Butcher asked. His only reply was a low moan and the flutter of the fledgling's eyelashes before one last, unnecessary breath rattled in his chest and he died. "Goddamn it," he said softly.This would have consequences. Dire ones.The sound of tires squealing on the tarmac outside caused Butcher to jump to his feet, running for the door of the plane. He jumped over the fallen hunter in the aisle and all but slid down the stairs. The fuel truck rushed past, causing him to stumble backward to avoid being run over. As it sped away, Butcher saw Pete and his people inside, grim looks on all their faces. They hadn't even waited long enough to find out if their plan was successful, and no one tried to collect the hunter Carden had mesmered. She was still lying on the ground, unmoving but alive."Butcher," Carden called. Butcher looked away from the woman, turning his attention to the spot where the other vampire was kneeling. The scent of blood was strong in the air, and while some of it was unfamiliar - a mix of Nate and Micheal, most likely - there was an unmistakable undertone that Butcher would know anywhere. He took careful, measured steps toward the group of Dandies clustered on the ground, eyes flicking toward the shiny shoes he'd watched Siska put on earlier that evening.Nate was sitting next to Carden, leaning heavily against Michael's side even though it must have been painful given the tearing of Micheal's clothes and the purpling skin Butcher could see from even that far away. Michael was speaking quietly, stupid nonsense words that would have been stripped from his vocabulary had his sire lived long enough to raise him properly. He and Nate both had a long way to go, but they'd get there eventually.There was a gurgling noise and a sharp, pained breath. Butcher's hands clenched into fists and he ran the last few yards, all but shoving the fledglings out of the way in his hurry. Siska was on the ground, a roughly-hewn stake sticking out of his chest."Adam?" He rarely used the boy's given name, and even then it was in private. Siska's eyes fluttered open and he tried to smile."Fucking Wentz," he said softly."He missed the heart," Carden said before Butcher could reply. "Siska's lost a lot of blood, but he'll be fine in a few days, so long as we do this now." He looked from the stake back up to Butcher's face and waited. The Butcher nodded and watched as Carden pulled back the sleeves of his jacket and ruined white dress shirt. Butcher did the same, raising his wrist to his mouth while he grabbed the stake with his other hand. He bit down as he wrenched the stake free, doing his best to ignore Siska's howl of pain. Butcher pressed his bleeding wrist to Siska's mouth, muffling his whimpers, while Carden let his drip over the gaping hole in the fledgling's chest."Is Felix dead?" Carden asked. Butcher nodded. "Fucking Wentz," he growled."Fucking Wentz," Butcher agreed.-*-Brendon wandered the city for the rest of the night, stopping to feed when the mood struck him, but mostly just walking the darkened streets. He made a point of passing by Pete's warehouse, wanting to harass him or his people a little, but was disappointed when no one came out to play. He peeked in a few of the dirty, dust-streaked windows, but was unable to make out much beyond the shadowy outlines of people inside. Something was wrong; Brendon could smell faint traces of blood when he'd passed the main door. No one seemed to be seriously injured, but they'd had a hard night, that much was obvious by the way they were pacing.Brendon wondered if the Punks were causing trouble again, or if maybe the Hoods had taken an interest in Pete. Either were likely scenarios, but Brendon didn't really believe them. When it came to Pete Wentz and his hunters, only one gang could get them so riled up.He frowned and made his way back to the sidewalk, a little annoyed that he'd left the Mercedes all the way across town. Stealing another car wouldn't be a problem, but he'd rather liked the candy-red finish. After that, the silver Volvo was almost pathetic. He shook his head and tried not to pout. He made the drive to the Dandy safe house in no time, his foot heavy on the gas and all but forgetting how to use the brake. He passed several police cars, none of which bothered to give chase, and he smiled at the other motorists as he cut them off.He was going to leave the Volvo outside the gate like they usually did with their stolen cars, but the gate surrounding the Dandy house was standing open and a black sedan was badly parked in the middle of the laneway. All four doors were open, as was the trunk, and the smell of vampire blood was so strong, even from that far away, that Brendon almost choked on it. He'd never found vampire blood all that attractive, though he knew some who loved the taste. It wasn't particularly nutritious, they couldn't live off it for very long, but it was a kink just like any other. Brendon had a few of his own and therefore had no room to judge.This was well beyond a little rough play, though, and Brendon couldn't help but think of the tension at Pete's and the blood he'd smelled in the doorway. Something had happened and Brendon's instincts were right. He ran the rest of the way to the house, throwing the door open and following the bloody smudges on the carpet. They led him upstairs to the Butcher's suite, where the majority of the Dandy population was standing in the hallway. Brendon pushed the younger ones aside and skillfully maneuvered his way around his elders, managing to fit through a small space between someone's body and the door frame.The hardwood was slick with blood, the elegant Tabriz kurkwool rug ruined by bloody, discarded clothes and the large pool of blood spreading out from where Siska lay. The wound in his chest was still gaping, but Brendon didn't think much of the blood was his own by that point. Carden knelt near him, one wrist torn and bloody, while Butcher sat near Siska's head, his own wrist still held to his boy's mouth. Beckett stood not far away, staring down at the fledgling and his sire, a closed expression on his face. No one was paying any attention to the less seriously-injured Nate and Michael, or to the terrified human tied up in the corner."He's going to need more than you can give him," Brendon said. All eyes quickly settled on him and Brendon had a split second to wonder if maybe he wasn't wanted, even though he could offer help. Gerard might have been gone for nearly a month, but he'd left a hell of a parting gift: suspicion and anger, all directed at Brendon."He's right," Beckett said after a moment. "You both look like shit; you've given him too much already.""What happened?" Brendon asked, kneeling next to Siska, ignoring the sticky, coagulating blood that clung to his trousers. He quickly bit into his wrist and pressed it to the fledgling's mouth. It took a moment for him to latch on, the blood no doubt tasting different, wrong, but the hunger won out. Brendon watched as the wound in Siska's chest slowly knit itself together a little more. He wasn't all that old, but his blood was still reasonably strong."Maja's envoy is dead," Butcher spat. "Thanks to Pete.""Are we sure he masterminded it?" Brendon asked carefully. It was a stupid question, but it never paid to bring Pete up unless they had all the facts."Ask the lady in the corner," Carden suggested, inclining his head toward the human. She was sitting perfectly still - no doubt instructed to by Carden, whose mesmerism was nothing if not exceptional - but her eyes were flicking from vampire to vampire, wide and scared."Well?" Brendon demanded. Tell me what happened, was the message he sent her."Wentz came to us," the woman said, her eyes widening even more when she couldn't stop herself from speaking. "He promised us easy pickings. A fledgling, he said. It would be an insult to send anything else to meet him."Brendon noticed the Butcher glance over at Carden, but he very carefully kept his eyes trained on the hunter."We didn't want to, we've heard stories about Wentz and his people, but Chris just couldn't resist. If we pulled it off, everyone would be talking about it, about us," she continued."Oh, they'll be talking about you," Beckett said. "The idiots who got caught.""The envoy's dead," the hunter said. If she'd had control of her muscles, she'd no doubt have been preening."So are the rest of your people," the Butcher hissed."And so are you," Beckett said. He nodded at Nate and Michael, who wasted no time in darting forward, one in front of, and the other behind, the bound human."Scream if you want to," Carden said offhandedly. Brendon thought it was a little cruel, but then again, Siska was bleeding all over the carpet. Brendon watched as Nate and Michael fed, listened as the hunter first tried begging and then finally grew quiet, groaning softly before she died. The fledglings dropped the body to the floor when they were done and Brendon could see the ruined skin in Nate's face slowly beginning to knit itself back together."I'll send someone to find a meal for both of you," Beckett said to Butcher and Carden. The mesmerist nodded, but Butcher looked furious."I don't want a meal," he said. "I want Wentz's head on a plate, Beckett!""Well, unfortunately, that's not likely to happen," Beckett said, his tone clearly conveying that they'd already had that particular conversation. Brendon wished he'd arrived sooner. "I will take care of it, Butcher. That's all you need to know. Now, I'm going to be generous and find you something to eat even though you don't seem that interested in it." With that, he left the room, not bothering to spare a backward glance for the angry vampire behind him."You might as well go," the Butcher said to Carden. The mesmerist slowly got to his feet, no doubt a little light headed after giving so much blood to Siska. "Thank you."Carden just nodded curtly and pushed past the gawkers in the doorway, a little rougher than necessary."Get some sleep," Brendon murmured to Nate and Michael, who were all but asleep in the corner, leaning against each other. They nodded sleepily at him, helping one another to their feet, swaying back and forth for a moment. Brendon watched them go before gently pulling his wrist away from Siska's mouth."He'll live," Brendon said, tracing one of Siska's eyebrows before he realised what he was doing. It wasn't smart to get so intimate with someone else's fledgling, not even if the fledgling in question currently had an incredible amount of Brendon's blood in his system."Yes, he will," Butcher said. "Help me get him to the bedroom."Brendon grabbed Siska's ankles while Butcher got his shoulders and together they slowly moved the injured vampire to the bedroom, careful not to jostle him too much. Even though they took their time, Siska still groaned and whimpered with every step. They set him in the middle of the king-sized bed, throwing the bedcovers to the floor."Who was sent to Maja?" Brendon asked, leaning against one of the bedposts."Darren," Butcher said. He began to strip off his clothes, leaving them on the floor, much as he'd done with Siska's. "There wasn't enough time to take Felix's plane back, so he left almost two hours before Felix got in.""Darren? That's hardly a fair trade," Brendon pointed out. He crossed his arms and watched Butcher with curious eyes."No, it isn't," Butcher snorted. "Darren was Beckett's idea of doing Maja a favour.""Some favour," Brendon remarked. He liked Darren, but he wasn't a fighter. He had no experience with putting down minor rebellions and as such wouldn't be much help in defending Maja's city."He should have sent me back," Butcher said. He slipped a bathrobe over his shoulders and cinched it tight around his waist. "Or Jon, though I suppose he's not likely to go anywhere near Maja at this point. You don't put a human in the middle of a war zone, and you don't leave him behind when you go, either.""That's not the only reason," Brendon said, pushing away from the bed and coming closer to the chest of drawers in front of which Butcher stood. "He loves this city, he hates leaving it.""Yes, well, this city is falling apart," Butcher said, his eyes seeking out Siska's still form. He watched for a moment before turning an angry look toward Brendon. "It's partly his fault, you know. Nicholas asked Jon to be his successor, to run the city in the same way that he did, but Jon had to fucking turn him down. I don't even know what he told Nicholas, because he never was one to take no for an answer. He was angry for days afterward, but he never took it out on Jon, he seemed to understand in the end.""Who suggested Beckett for the position?" Brendon asked. People so rarely discussed the time before Beckett had come into power and they did it even less when Brendon was present. That Butcher might actually answer him left Brendon feeling a little giddy."Beckett did," Butcher laughed, though there wasn't any amusement in the sound. "He mounted a one-man campaign. I half expected buttons and signs. In the end, it was Jon's endorsement that did it.""Really," Brendon said, surprised to hear that."Yes." Butcher rolled his shoulders and made his way toward the bed, settling next to Siska. "Everything was fine until Beckett's want/take/have philosophy backfired. Spectacularly.""He's certainly holding on tightly," Brendon said carefully."He should have cut his losses long ago," Butcher said angrily. "We're all paying because he didn't. What do you think will happen when Maja finds out about this?" he demanded. "Brian has already cut us off because of what Wentz did to his fledgling; Gabriel has been searching for a reason, if only out of loyalty to Brian; and Maja has close ties to both of them. When it gets out that Felix is dead after he was sent here to be safeguarded, they're both going to use their influence to have her sever all ties with us, just like Brian did."That would be disastrous, Brendon knew. It didn't take long for word to travel. If the other gangs knew the Dandies had no reinforcements, they'd be falling over themselves to cause trouble. They'd be able to put down the uprisings for a time, but eventually they'd be overwhelmed."There has to be a way to fix this," Brendon said, purposely trailing away, encouraging the Butcher to offer a suggestion. Brendon knew full well what would fix the situation, but there was no way he could put forth the option, not when he was already regarded as a traitor for what he'd done with Frank. Butcher, on the other hand, was safe from reproach; he could suggest things Brendon could only think of."The only way to 'fix this'," Butcher said, "is to get rid of Beckett. Half the Dandies here have lost faith in him; he can't even control his own fledgling!" Butcher's eyes wandered over Siska's chest again. "He endangers us all, and for what? Lust? Stubborn pride? Wentz should have been put down as soon as he began causing problems.""So there's others who'd agree with this plan?" Brendon asked slowly."You know there is," Butcher said. "You'd wave the fucking banner.""This isn't about me," Brendon said. "It's about all of us. There's no point in doing this if there aren't enough people to stand together.""I'll get the others, no problems there," Butcher replied. "The hard part will be finding someone to take over. It can't be someone divisive, they have to be strong, and they need to understand that the good of the city comes first. They need to be a rallying point for the rest of us.""I know someone," Brendon said. "He has a great deal of experience in putting the needs of others ahead of his own petty wants. After all, he disowned his boy because it was in his best interest."Butcher looked up sharply at that. "Jon didn't want the job the first time it was offered to him. What makes you think he'd take it now?""A lot has changed," Brendon said. "Like you said, this city is falling apart. Jon's not about to sit by and watch it happen."Butcher was quiet for several long minutes. Brendon was exhausted, the sun must have been high in the sky by then, but he forced himself to stay awake. If Butcher could do it, having given much more blood, then so could Brendon."He's probably asleep by now," Butcher said."He's not likely to be here, even if he is," Brendon replied. "You'll have to see him tomorrow. Go to his safe house right after nightfall; bring as many people as you can. It'll convince him.""Great plan, except for how I have no idea where his safe house is," Butcher said. Brendon just smiled."I can help you with that," he promised.-*-Jon woke late the next evening, wrapped in sheets that still smelled the slightest bit like Spencer. The boy hadn't slept in the bed while he'd been there, but he'd sat on the edge of the mattress while they'd talked, he'd rubbed his palm against the bedclothes, nervous, as he'd tried to figure out what to say. The faint traces were enough to calm Jon down before he'd dropped off to sleep. He just had to remind himself that he'd had far less for so very long.The cat was curled up beside him, its long hair no doubt shedding on the pillow. Jon should have probably retired to his private rooms to sleep, but he'd been exhausted and in need of something more than the silence and solitude of the room behind the bookcase. Even if the only company he had at the moment was that of a cat.Jon stretched as he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the muscles shift in his back, smiling a little at the burn of knots coming loose. Mulligan looked over at him, mewling plaintively as Jon shifted the mattress. The vampire shook his head and stood, leaning down briefly to scoop the cat up. His soft fur tickled along Jon's side as he padded, naked, out of the bedroom. He caught sight of Spencer's backpack as he headed toward the kitchen, lying abandoned on the floor near the sofa.He carefully turned away from it and busied himself looking for the expensive cat food Spencer had insisted he buy. He was filling a small ceramic dish when he heard something in the hallway. He paused, tilting his head a little and listening for the sound again. Sure enough, he heard it once more, the sound of shuffling shoes and soft whispers.Jon set the cat down on the floor with his bowl and stalked toward the front door. He threw it open without bothering to look out the peep hole, an angry expression on his face."Son of a bitch," he muttered, slamming the door as quickly as he'd opened it. There were certain things his considerably long life hadn't prepared him for. At the top of the list was waking to find half the Dandy population standing on his doorstep. The doorstep to his safe house. His secret safe house."Goddamn fucking Brendon," Jon growled, stalking toward the bookcase, intent on finding something suitable to wear. Maybe he could leave through the window. He was 260 years old; he could probably do it with minimal damage, if he found something to break his fall."Jon, open the door!" The Butcher called from the hallway, punctuating his demand with three hard knocks. "A lock isn't going to keep me out! Spencer doesn't actually live here anymore!"Jon turned on his heel, hurrying back to the door and throwing it open once more. He glared at the vampires in his hallway but reserved the brunt of his anger for the Butcher."Although I don't know that hiding him away would actually count as him living here. Maybe the barrier doesn't go up if they've been kidnapped.""How the fuck did you find me?" Jon demanded."Goddamn fucking Brendon," Butcher said with a smirk."I'm going to kill him," Jon declared. "Ryan will be sad, of course, but he'll learn to live with it. Humans have short lives and even shorter memories.""I'd think twice about that," Butcher suggested, slipping under Jon's arm to enter the apartment. "Brendon's been right before, he might be right again someday." He headed straight for Mulligan, scratching the cat behind the ears. Jon was happy when the cat growled, looking up to glare at Butcher before turning his attention back to his food. At least someone understood loyalty."Is my doorman still alive?" Jon asked, ignoring Butcher's quip about Brendon."Alive, yes. Happy, no," Butcher replied. "You can have the elevator key back if you'd like." He reached into his pocket and tossed the key back to Jon, who caught it easily."What do you want?" Jon demanded, enunciating each word so there would be no mistaking how angry he was."Firstly I'd like you to get dressed. Honestly, it's past sundown and you've just rolled out of bed. If I can give half my blood to Siska and still get up on time, you have no excuse." Jon raised an eyebrow in silent question at that, but Butcher ignored him. "Secondly," he said, "we need to talk.""About?" Jon prompted, just to try Butcher's patience."Beckett," Butcher said flatly. "Go."Jon could have pointed out how incredibly impertinent it was for Butcher to be giving his elders orders or he could have physically forced the other vampire to leave, but instead Jon found his curiosity getting the better of him. He hesitated just to make it clear that he was at no one's beck and call, and then turned toward the door behind the bookcase. He dressed in record time, grabbing the first thing he laid hands on in the closet, and hurried back to main apartment. He didn't trust Butcher not to snoop around if left alone for too long. As it was, Jon found him poking at Spencer's backpack with the toe of his shiny loafers."Well?" Jon said, expectantly."Pete killed the envoy," Butcher said matter of factly. Jon stood there, shocked and unsure of what to say."Felix?" he asked, though there was little need of clarification. There were two other envoys currently in the city - Ryland and Suarez from Victoria - but Butcher had said the envoy. That could only mean Felix."He was dead before he could even step foot off the plane," Butcher said. "That's not all - Nate and Michael were injured. So was Siska."Jon looked up sharply at that. Butcher took his mentoring very seriously, he rarely went anywhere without his fledgling at his side. Siska hadn't been in the hallway."How?" Jon asked."Staked," Butcher said. "Wentz missed his heart by an inch. Michael pulled him away at the last second.""He has good reflexes," Jon commented, filling the silence as he turned the thoughts over in his head. "What will happen to Pete?" Jon asked after a moment."Nothing," Butcher said, disgusted.It wasn't a complete shock. After all, they'd gone through this with Brian two years earlier. No one knew what Pete was doing there in the first place, but the fact remained the same: he'd killed someone close to Brian, leaving a newborn fledgling, not yet risen, an orphan. Jon had never seen anyone so angry before. Brian was ancient, the oldest on this continent for sure, and he had allies and resources the likes of which Jon had never seen. To be cut off from that was terrifying."He's dangerous, Jon," Butcher said softly, coming a few steps closer and giving their conversation an air of privacy. Jon knew it was only an illusion - there were too many vampires with exceptional hearing just outside the door for that to be true."He's Beckett, and he leads this gang," Jon stressed."Only because you wouldn't do it," Butcher pressed. "Nicholas wanted you, not him.""He gave me the choice," Jon said. "I chose not to. You shouldn't be bringing this up, Butcher. It was a lifetime ago.""For your boy, maybe, but not for us," Butcher said. "We have long memories for a reason.""Because we're not meant to die," Jon exclaimed. "Not so we can stage a coup eighty years after the fact!""Are you seriously standing by him?" Butcher demanded. His eyes narrowed as he took in Jon's defiant stance, the angry clench of his fists at his sides. "He isn't worth your loyalty. He certainly hasn't returned it.""Maybe not," Jon conceded. "But you're asking me to go against centuries of tradition.""There's a first time for everything!" Butcher said."For tearing our gang apart?" Jon asked. "For encouraging Dandy violence? We've never done that before, and you want me to put my fingerprints all over it?""There wouldn't even be any violence," Butcher stressed. "Brian would support you. What Brian does, Gabriel does too, the dutiful fledgling even at 250. Maja's grieving; she'll fall in line with the others. This city could be yours without even having to lift a finger!""And what about the Dandies here?" Jon demanded. "Allies in other cities are all well and good, but it's this city that I have to worry about.""There are twenty Dandies in your hallway," Butcher said. "That's just over half of us. The others will either fall in line or they won't. They're free to run to Victoria with Beckett if they want. I won't feel sorry for them when the urge to return takes hold. If they think for a minute that Beckett isn't endangering them, they're far too stupid to last long, anyway.""Is Brendon out there?" Jon asked. "If he is, he's being uncharacteristically quiet.""There isn't much good will toward him these days," Butcher explained. "If he'd come tonight, half the vampires outside would have thought he was Gabriel's puppet. Gerard may be gone, but he's sown the seeds of discontent. We'll never truly be rid of him.""If Brendon was a puppet, Gerard would have hardly drawn attention to him," Jon said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Butcher expected him to take over the gang with so many ridiculous people?Butcher didn't reply to that, just stood there silently, letting Jon work through his options. Everything he'd said was true, of course. Beckett wasn't seeing the big picture, had let personal desires override what was best for the city and those who lived in it. He'd allowed slights - real and imagined - to govern his decision-making process. They'd already lost one ally due to Beckett's inability to let go of Pete Wentz, and they were most likely about to lose another. It wouldn't take long for the other gangs to try to gain a foothold. If they did, news would spread to other cities, making their enemies bold, willing to risk the attempt."This has the possibility of ending very, very badly," Jon warned. Butcher smiled."He can't put us all down," he said. "And if we have to, I'm sure Brian will take us in. It won't be easy, but we'd be able to bide our time until it was safe to come back.""If it's all the same with you, I'd like to avoid that," Jon said dryly. He was reaching down to shoo Mulligan away, who'd decided the trousers of Jon's impeccable black suit was the best place to rub his head, when he heard the sound of a cellular phone vibrating against something in Butcher's pocket."Yes?" Butcher answered. He was silent for a few moments before a dark look came over his face. "Are we going to discuss Wentz? No, I didn't think so. Yes. Goodbye." He snapped the phone shut and, for a moment, Jon thought he was going to throw it. "We've been summoned," he said. "There's a meeting at the house in an hour; we're all expected to attend. I'm supposed to track down our missing people and let them know.""Well, they're right outside," Jon said. "So that was remarkably easy. I'm going to get them.""Have you finally learned hospitality after all these years?" Butcher asked."No," Jon replied. "But we're going to make Beckett wait awhile. Call Brendon; tell him to get down here. It shouldn't take long; we already know he remembers the address."Butcher smiled and flipped open his phone. He dialed as Jon headed to door, punching in the security code and throwing it open once more.They waited over an hour before heading to the Dandy house, during which time Jon spoke with each vampire in turn, questioning them until he was convinced that they truly understood the severity of what they were about to do. He'd worried, briefly, that he'd have to turn some of them away, that they'd treat it as nothing more than a game to soothe hurt feelings, but that wasn't the case. He was happy to see the serious looks on their faces, their honest desire to fix the mess their city had become. Several of his supporters wouldn't be much help in a fight - they were young, like Nate and Michael, or weak like Bert or Quinn - but Jon would just have to trust the Butcher when he said there would be no fight.Jon wanted to contact Brian or Gabriel, if only to let them know he was about to use their names, but he knew it wasn't a wise choice. If this was going to happen, if he was going to earn it, he'd have to do it on his own. Anything that smacked of asking for help would only undermine what he was trying to do.Brendon took his time getting to Jon's apartment, coming up with Michael, who'd been posted in the lobby with the elevator key. Brendon smiled when he saw the turnout, taking his hat off as he came farther into the room."Your doorman is tied up under his desk," he announced."But he's not bleeding out on the floor, so he should consider himself lucky," Butcher pointed out.Brendon nodded at that, a small smile on his face as he continued to look around. The smug expression is what finally snapped Jon's patience. He moved quickly, leaving Nate mid-conversation, and grabbed hold of Brendon's shoulder, directing him back toward the bedroom. He slammed the door behind them, spinning the younger vampire around and backing him up against the solid oak surface."Not happy to see me?" Brendon asked. The words were light, laced with bravado that Jon didn't think Brendon actually felt. That managed to temper some of his anger."You had no right to put me in this situation," Jon said, resisting the urge to shake Brendon. His fingers dug into Brendon's arms instead, and Brendon was smart enough not to complain about the pain, or the mess Jon was making of his well-pressed clothing."This would have happened anyway," Brendon said carefully. "At least this way the slight is fresh in everyone's minds and they're willing to stand with you. You weren't there last night, you didn't see the way they were all clustered in the hallway, trying to catch sight of Siska on the floor. Nothing is going to happen to Pete, nothing of consequence," Brendon continued. "Beckett will harass him, maybe even scare him this time, but Butcher wants him dead. By all rights, he should have died the minute he started hunting us.""I'm not going to execute Pete Wentz," Jon said."But you're not going to stop someone else from doing it, either," Brendon pointed out. "You're not going to keep him safe at all costs. You know what's at stake, that's the difference between you and William Beckett.""Don't think you've gotten away with this," Jon said after a moment. "You still had no right to tell them where to find me. I can't bring Spencer here again, not if they know where it is.""Jon, after tonight you'll be leader of the Dandies," Brendon said. "Do you really think you'll be sleeping away from the house?"He had a point. Much of Jon's time would be spoken for, though he could work it out so that most of his duties were done after Spencer was asleep. He might be safe at the house, even though Jon wasn't particularly keen on exposing him to the rest of the Dandy population. Although there would be those who wouldn't go along with his leadership, the ones who would agree to his face and quietly go behind his back to spy for Beckett. Jon had no doubts that it would happen.Anyway, it was a moot point. It would take the boy time to get over what had happened. Hopefully by then everything would have settled in the city."There are still consequences," Jon said, leaning close."It wouldn't be the first time you put me over your knee," Brendon said with a grin."Keep digging that hole, Brendon," Jon advised. "It's what you do best.""You'll do what you see fit and nothing I do is going to change that," Brendon said. "There's no point in worrying about it.""Let's go," Jon said, deliberately not responding to Brendon's comment. "We've waited long enough. If this is going to happen, it has to be now.""Wouldn't want him to come looking for us," Brendon agreed. "That would ruin the surprise."Jon left the bedroom, Brendon right behind him, and headed for the door. The others got the hint and stopped talking immediately, falling into line behind Jon and the Butcher, who had easily taken Brendon's place as second in line. Jon was thankful that they didn't squabble, though he supposed they had more pride than to throw a tantrum like a pair of spoiled human brats.The Dandy house was clear across town, which was a large part of what had attracted Jon to the apartment he'd bought. It took a few minutes to sort out the logistics of stealing so many cars, and even then Jon wanted to laugh for the ridiculousness of it. A procession of Dandies, driving along in seven packed sedans. He vehemently vetoed the minivans.They left the cars in a row down the street from the Dandy house, trusting that someone would come to take them away as usual, and made the short walk to the gates that surrounded the property. Jon punched in the security code and led his people up the pathway. He knew this would be as much about appearances as it was about strength of will and he wished he could turn back and look at the vampires standing behind him. They'd make a pretty picture from a purely aesthetic point of view.Beckett appeared in the doorway, leaning nonchalantly against the frame. He watched the group with narrowed eyes and Jon heard his people fan out behind him, staying far enough back that he wasn't crowded, but close enough that there was no doubt whose side they were on."Did you find my strays, Jon Walker?" he asked."They found me, actually," Jon replied with a shrug."Well now, isn't this interesting," Beckett drawled. He pushed away from the doorstep, coming a few steps forward and standing at the top of the stairs."Maybe," Jon said. "But not unexpected. Not if you're being honest, Beckett.""Honesty?" Beckett laughed. "What place does honesty have in what you're trying to do?""Not trying," Jon corrected. "Doing. There are an awful lot of Dandies out here who have absolutely no confidence in you or your ability to lead them.""This isn't a parliament," Beckett spat. "We don't have no-confidence votes. You fall in line or you get put down, it's a fairly easy system, Walker.""It is," Jon agreed. "But only when it's applied equally to everyone in your hierarchy. Can you think of someone who hasn't fallen in line? Someone who's been allowed to get away with far too much in recent days?"There was movement behind Beckett then, the rest of the Dandies coming out onto the porch. They parted as Carden appeared in the doorway, holding a torn and bloody sweater. He handed it to Beckett, who threw it down at Jon's feet."We've had a conversation, he and I," Beckett replied.Behind him, Jon could feel the Butcher bristling at that comment. He stayed silent, though, for which Jon was glad."I'm afraid that's not enough," he said."I'm afraid it doesn't matter," Beckett snapped. "Have you even thought this through? You're going to give ideas to the others. How long do you think it'll be before the Hoods come for you? The Punks? Or what about one of them," he nodded to the people standing behind Jon. "How long until they decide they can do better?""They didn't choose me at random, Beckett, and you know it," Jon said. "Nicholas chose me as his successor.""And you turned him down!" Beckett said."I shouldn't have," Jon said. "I had no business disappointing him like that. Everything I learned, every single lesson, was to teach me how to replace him. I wasn't ready then, he saw it, so he went with you instead. Nicholas was a very smart man, I wouldn't be surprised if he knew we'd come to this eventually.""Nicholas Scimeca was not a Seer," Beckett argued.“No, but he was a great judge of character," Jon said. "And I think he had your number. He just figured it would have come up long before now.""Pretty words that mean nothing, in the end," Beckett said."Maybe not, but here's one that does: Brian. And two more: Gabriel and Maja," Jon said. He came closer then, two measured steps. "Brian's already abandoned us. I have no idea why Gabriel hasn't cut us off already, but he will, make no mistake about it. And then there's Maja, mourning the fledgling she sent us to keep safe. He didn't even make it off the plane. Who does that leave you, William? Victoria?" Jon laughed a little. "Does she even have enough people to make it count? She can't send you everyone, you know.""You're actually serious about this," Beckett said, amazement colouring his voice. "You really do think you're going to get away with it.""Yes," Jon said simply. "You've burned every one of your bridges, save one. You should have thought twice about that. As for your people," he looked over Beckett's shoulder, at each of the vampires in turn. "You're welcome to stay," he told them. "Or you're free to go. There are no grudges, no suspicion, whatever option you pick. The choice is yours to make, but know that there are going to be changes here if you stay.""Are you really taking advice from traitors?" Beckett asked, gesturing toward Brendon, who'd stayed quiet on Jon's other side."He's no traitor," Jon said, emphasizing each word, not only for Beckett but also for the others standing around him. "He did what he had to in order to keep you in check. Do you really want to rehash that whole situation? We can, if you'd like. Once I'm done with Brendon and Ryan, I can bring up Gerard and Frank. Me and Spencer. Butcher and Siska.""I never touched Siska," Beckett laughed."Maybe not, but you didn't do much after he was injured," Jon pointed out. "And now we've come full circle. This has been dragging for far too long. You don't seem to think much of outside allies, but I can contact some, if you'd like. How long do you think it'll take for Brian himself to show up on our doorstep? If he's not already on his way, that is. He has been known to see things well in advance. I know that Gerard would be beyond happy to lend a hand, and where he goes the Deimos is likely not far behind."Beckett didn't have a lot of options, especially when more than a handful of his own people - those Butcher hadn't felt comfortable approaching beforehand - were starting to look uncomfortable and shuffle a little toward the door. His hands were tied; with so few willing to stand with him and only one ally in another city, there wasn't much he could do. If he kicked up much of a fuss, it would attract more attention from the other gangs than was entirely safe."This is nowhere near close to being over," Beckett said finally."I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Jon admitted. It wasn't an insult, simply the truth: Beckett was nothing if not tenacious when he wanted to be.Beckett made his way down the steps with slow, deliberate movements, a look of such hatred on his face the likes of which Jon had never seen before. There was some movement behind him as Victoria's two envoys, Suarez and Ryland, followed."Everyone else is staying here," Beckett announced. "You'll never know who is loyal to you, Jon, not really. You'd better watch your back, anything could happen.""I'm sure it could," Jon said. He stepped to the side and his people cleared a path for Beckett and the envoys. He glared as he walked past them, no doubt taking names to make sure he didn't miss anyone. Jon wanted to watch them go but didn't, giving Beckett his back and focusing his attention on the vampires still standing on the steps. The look on Carden's face was furious, but he kept quiet. He'd be a problem, Jon knew, but he'd been prepared for that. He'd just have to keep an eye on him at all times and control the flow of information."I meant what I said," Jon told them. "There's still a place for you here.""Until we break your rules," Carden said. "Whatever those may be.""Keep your hands off things that don't belong to you and learn the difference between want and need, and we'll get along just fine," Jon replied. He waited until he heard the sound of a car speeding off down the street before making his way up the steps and inside the house. His people trailed along behind him, and the others, after standing there dumbly for a moment, followed suit.There was so much to do, Jon thought. He was surprised to realize how excited he was to get started.-*-Jon had never been so glad to be away from the Dandy house in his life. After two days of nothing but putting out fires and trying to get people to trust him, he'd finally left things in Butcher's capable hands for a few hours. He'd always enjoyed wandering the darkened streets, taking in the sights and sounds, feeding whenever the urge struck him, harassing people whenever he found anyone worth bothering. Not having a specific destination in mind made it all the more interesting, in his opinion. He never set out to end up anywhere, and tonight was no exception. That didn't mean he didn't recognize where he was heading, though, and didn't know that it wasn't one of his better ideas.Sampson Bridge was quiet, though there were still a few people below. Jon could hear their murmured voices and their heartbeats, could smell the beer and the pot. He stood there on the sidewalk regardless, leaning on the railing as he watched the dirty water breaking on rocks and trash. There was something almost hypnotic about it. On nights like this, he'd usually pull up a few stolen memories, relive them once again, find new and interesting things about their rightful owners. It was always thrilling to do, but Jon pushed the urge away.He couldn't afford to be distracted, not now that he'd dealt such a blow to the Dandy structure. The other gangs must surely have heard about it, were even probably starting to get over the shock of it in order to begin scheming in earnest.He felt the tug low in his belly long before he heard footsteps approaching. He knew who it was even before he recognized the movements, the scraping of sneakers against the concrete, the nervous rub of sweaty palms on stiff denim. Jon ducked his head to hide his smile, resisting the urge to move away from the railing, to turn and look at the boy he'd marked. Spencer took his time about closing the distance, but Jon didn't try to rush him. He enjoyed the feel of the connection between them and wondered how long it would take for it to grow stronger.Spencer leaned against the railing next to Jon, the boy's body mimicking his stance exactly, though the vampire wasn't sure if that was intentional or by accident. They stood in silence for awhile, both staring down at the water below."There is absolutely no reason for me to be here," Spencer finally said."I know," Jon replied."Good. I just... wanted that out there," the boy said.Jon laughed, finally turning to look at him. Spencer looked better rested, though still a little tired. His hair was in disarray from the wind, and the soft cotton of his blue t-shirt was creased."Ryan tells me you've had a few interesting days," Spencer said conversationally. He was making an effort, trying to find a balance between them, and that made Jon want so much to touch him that he slipped his hands into his pocket to keep from reaching out."It should have been done long ago," Jon confessed. "I just wasn't paying attention.""Or maybe there wasn't a reason to," Spencer mumbled, ducking his head and leaning over the guardrail a little, pretending to be interested in something in the water."Or that," Jon agreed. He did touch Spencer then, just a hand between his shoulder blades, nothing the boy couldn't shake off if he wanted to. Spencer sighed and turned away from the water, moving closer until he'd managed to fit himself along Jon's side."Pete's the one who told Ryan all about vampires," Spencer said. "What's going to happen to him?""If he's smart, he'll get out of that warehouse," Jon said grimly. "Someone will burn it down while he sleeps. Safe houses are only safe if they're secret."Whether it was the mention of safe houses or just some random thought pulled out of thin air, Spencer blurted, "I miss my cat." His voice was muffled by Jon's shoulder."Is that it?" Jon asked with a laugh."Maybe not all," he admitted. Jon smiled and ran his hand down Spencer's back once more before urging him to stand straight so Jon could lead him away from the bridge. His apartment wasn't far, and though it would no longer be suitable for long-term living, Mulligan was still there. He'd made Brendon see to his care, though Jon suspected he'd passed the duty off to Ryan. The younger vampire hadn't come home with cat hair all over his suit like he should have.They talked quietly as they walked, Spencer asking questions and Jon either doing his best to answer or to subtly distract the boy from what he'd asked. Spencer was too smart for that to last long, and finally learned to steer clear of certain topics. The conversation soon turned to Brendon and Jon made sure to let several secrets slip, hoping that the information would make it back to Ryan so Brendon would be forever pestered. He was laughing, Spencer begging to know why, when Jon sensed another vampire nearby. He was careful not to alarm Spencer as he shook his head, refusing to answer, and scanned the rows of houses on either side of the street. There was a tiny house on the corner, maybe fifty yards away, with yellow shutters, neat rows of tulips, and a Dandy standing in the driveway.It was Carden, looking for all the world as though he had every right to be there. He caught sight of Jon and turned to glare at him, no doubt thinking he'd been followed like an errant child. Jon slipped an arm around Spencer's shoulders, doing his best to convey the accidental nature of their meeting. It didn't seem to matter, Carden's eyes narrowed further before he turned away altogether, stalking up the driveway and slipping into the house and closing the door firmly behind himself.It didn't escape Jon's notice that there hadn't been anyone around to offer an invitation.He stared at the house for a moment, brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. The area wasn't suitable for a safe house, and it was obviously occupied...."What's wrong?" Spencer asked."Nothing," Jon said, forcing a small smile. "We're almost there, come on. There's a cable bill I'd like you to take a look at."Spencer groaned and shook his head before covering his face with his hands.Jon laughed at the deep blush creeping over the boy's skin. He led Spencer around the corner, and resisted the urge to turn back toward the little house. He was determined to enjoy his time with his boy, but Jon knew the mesmerist would never be far from his thoughts. End.Note: I fully admit that after this story, some of the pairings might not make a damn lick of sense to anyone who isn't me, or writteninsable. That's okay. If it's not your cup of tea, feel free to imagine that the series ends here.