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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to everyone who is reading this fic and my others.
THE WORLD IS MINE


Summary: Xander outlines his plans for Spike and Buffy with Angel. Angel is not everything he appears to be in this story. I hope that’s okay with you readers.

Faith and Frank have a talk and come to an understanding…..maybe.

Buffy and Spike have fun at the office (much to Rupert’s dismay). Later, there will be fun ‘dinner’ plans for our couple at Buffy’s place!



A/N: The lyrics in fancy parenthesis are from ‘Hurt’ by Nine Inch Nails. Thank you.


Chapter 10: ‘Hurt’


{I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that’s real}


“So who is this British fuck anyway?” Angel Crawford asked his other boss, Xander Harris casually.

While Xander mulled over his response, Angel studied him with a discerning eye. Angel was fully aware of Xander’s rather obvious obsession with Buffy Summers. He himself had harbored such an obsession for her also, in high school that is.

Angel Crawford, on the surface, appeared to be little more then a mediocre private eye. Not much more then a ‘B’ list private investigator with average clients and an even more average reputation. However…..

That was on the surface only; underneath, Angel was a hard core lackey for one Xander Harris. A ruthless ‘butt monkey’ for the even more ruthless drug czar of Sunnydale and LA.

It was Angel that had orchestrated the assassination of one Robin Wood and it was he, also, that had caused a lot of upheaval inside of the Sunnydale borders. Not to mention the upheaval in one Buffy Summers’ life.

After all, Xander paid Angel very well; just like he paid all of his hired guns. Even if some of them, like Angel, were the clandestine of their kind.

Angel wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed of life, but he knew the extent of Xander’s feelings for Buffy. If he himself had shaken off those feelings some years ago and Xander had not? Then so be it.

On the other hand, Angel was also fully aware of some other cold hard facts. If his own wife, Darla, had ever gotten wind of just who was paying the majority of the Crawford bills and why he was paying them? Well, Darla Crawford would dump Angel, her husband, in a New York minute. That he could not have under any circumstances.

“So, do you want me to take out this Brit and….” Angel began cautiously. For all of his bravado and machismo, the big PI did not relish another cop’s blood on his hands.

“Eventually,” Xander mumbled matter-of-factly. “I think we should play some cat and mouse games with Buffy first though,” he added with a smirk.

“Can I ask you something,” Angel interrupted carefully.

“Ask away,” Xander grunted casually as he poured another shot of whisky into his glass.

“Why don’t you just let this ‘thing’ of yours over Buffy go? Just move on and marry your girl, Anya, and be done with it?” Angel inquired bravely.

Xander turned and faced his ‘employee’ with a definite frown on his handsome mouth. Harris did not appreciate any declension in his ranks and he certainly despised any kind of defiance. This was defiance on Angel’s part, most definitely. It had to be squelched; immediately.

“You know, Angel,” Xander began silkily.

If Angel didn’t know better, he’d of thought that Xander’s tone was probably like the serpents in the old Bible story of the Garden of Eden. Smooth, silky and very, very deadly.

“I’ve never thought of you as the ‘thinker’ type. Not ever,” Xander continued in an even voice. “You’re more of a ‘doer’ type, aren’t you?”

Angel nodded slowly as he tried to clock his secret employer’s mood. He was fully aware of how volatile Xander Harris could be; especially when it concerned Buffy Summers, for some reason.

“Well, I’m the take charge guy,” Xander chuckled derisively. “The guy who ‘has’ to take the action and make the decisions for this motley crew of ours.”

Xander poured Angel another drink and gave him a sly wink with his right eye.


“You see, Angel,” Xander continued with a heavy, world weary sigh, “I don’t want to destroy Buffy Summers.”

Angel snorted and raised his right dark brow in question. “You don’t,” he asked in confusion.

“Not really,” Xander replied casually.

‘If this crazy fuck doesn’t spill his guts soon, I’ll blow my own brains out!’ Angel thought to himself.

“I want you to ‘play’ with Buffy for a while,” Xander finally stated with a shrug of his massive shoulders.

“In fact,” Xander continued smoothly, “I want you to dance around the bitch for as long as you can. In my place, of course,” he chuckled wickedly.

“You’ll start by giving Buffy some silent advice,” Xander grunted, taking a long drink from his glass.

“Silent advice; or warning?” Angel asked nervously. This was getting more and more cryptic and if there was anything Angel hated it was the cryptic shit.

“You know very well that Buffy has a little sister she adores and a mother she worships,” Xander explained coolly. “I know very well just exactly where ‘they’ are right now. In the City of the Angels. I also know just how upset dear Buffy would be if she thought her precious family was in any danger,” he finished with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“You want me to hurt Dawn and Joyce Summers,” Angel rasped in disbelief.

In all of his years of association with Xander Harris, Angel would never have suspected that the big man would take his war with Buffy this far.

“Jesus Xander,” Angel muttered harshly, “they are your family too and…..”

“I didn’t tell you to hurt Dawn and Joyce,” Xander spat in reply, slamming his glass on the table in front of him. “I’m telling you to give Buffy some ‘cause’ for thought. If she thinks her fucking family is in danger from us; what do you think she’ll do with her newest loser of a fuck buddy!”

‘Christ, he’s completely deranged,’ Angel realized as he watched his superior strut about the room like a brazen rooster.

‘Rooster equals cock which translates to prick,’ Angel mused, ‘how fucking appropriate is that for you Harris?'

“And if you hurt your Anya in the process?” Angel stammered, again nervously, avoiding Xander’s dark eyes. “I mean, don’t you think Anya might be a bit ‘hurt’ herself when she finds out how much time and effort you’re putting into your Summers’ vendetta?”

Xander glared at Angel angrily, then suddenly broke into a wide grin. “Since when did you become a family therapist, Crawford? Been taking classes at night,” laughing loudly at the ridiculous thought.

Angel Crawford was little more then a big, arrogant thug; everybody knew that. Well, except maybe his clueless wife, Darla Crawford. She thought her husband was God’s gift to the world for some stupid reason.

“So, uhm, just how do I use Dawn and Joyce Summers to ‘hurt’ little Buffy?” Angel stammered slowly. He focused his attention on the picture of Anya on Xander’s table. There was no way he could look the bastard in the face right now.


Faith wiped all signs of the tell-tale white powder from under her nose. She stood up from her bedroom vanity and tightened the tie on her black silk robe.

When she turned to head into the master bathroom which was connected to the bedroom that she shared with her lover; she stopped in her tracks. Frank was standing in the bedroom doorway; arms crossed over his massive chest and that ‘what now’ disappointed look on his face.

“When did you get here?” Faith asked her lover casually as she sat on the end of their huge bed.

“Just in time, apparently,” Frank muttered in disgust, flopping down next to the woman he desperately loved for some reason.

“Been ‘eating’ powered donuts again baby?” Frank asked sarcastically, unable to keep the hurt and bitterness from his tone.

“Where did you get that shit?” Frank muttered harshly, although he knew exactly where Faith had gotten the coke. His brother, Xander.

“Hmpph, that’s pretty fucking rich, Frankie,” Faith laughed derisively. “Your whole empire is pretty much based on ‘that shit’ as you put it, and your brother is king of the shit pile! You going sensitive on me, baby,” she spat sourly as she wiped the last of the white evidence above her pouty upper lip.

“Speaking of Xander,” Frank mumbled, changing the subject from coke to his brother. “I want you to ‘stay’ away from him from now on, understand?”

Faith actually looked kind of stunned, momentarily, Frank thought with satisfaction. He knew, of course, that Faith knew that he knew that she was…..

“Oh fuck it all,” Frank growled, “you know what I mean Faith. Knock off screwing around with my brother, immediately or I’ll break that pretty neck of yours and…..”

“My God! You’ve finally grown some balls baby!” Faith broke out into loud raucous laughter and Frank felt all of his bravado quickly slip away.

When Faith fell over on the bed, peals of laughter shaking her lush body, something in Frank just snapped.

“Yeah, I guess I have finally grown a pair, sweetheart,” he roared angrily as he yanked Faith back up to a sitting position.

Frank felt smugly pleased as Faith’s laughter ceased instantly when she saw the look of hatred and anger in his dark eyes.

Was that fear in Faith’s pretty brown eyes? Yeah, it was, Frank decided, again satisfied that he had actually gained his lover’s fickle attention.

“You’re going to quit fucking my brother, understand Faith?” Frank repeated harshly, shaking her roughly.

“When did you get so jealous, lover? You’ve always shared your toys with big bro before.” Faith stammered; her brown eyes locked with his.

“It’s not about me or even you this time, Faith,” Frank sighed heavily, his voice sounded so sad and pathetic, even to him.

“It’s about Anya,” Frank muttered as he released Faith’s arms and stood up. He stumbled over to the mini bar in the bedroom and quietly poured himself a drink.

“Want one?” He asked the silent brunette on the bed.

“No,” Faith whispered in reply.

Frank slowly walked back to the bed and sat down, much more gently this time, next to his woman.

“I love you Faith, I do,” Frank murmured between sips of his whisky. “I know I don’t own you, or control you; no one can control you, but…..”

“It’s Anya, isn’t it?” Faith asked bluntly, the resentment in her tone made Frank cringe a bit.

“Yes, it’s Anya. I don’t want her hurt anymore, Faith, especially after her and my brother's wedding. Xander owes Anya, at least fidelity; he owes her. She helped make my brother, and me. You…..” but Faith cut Frank off right there.

“Anya is almost as big a bitch as I am, honey,” Faith hissed. “Why the sudden concern over ‘her’ feelings?”

If Frank didn’t know better, he’d swear that his girlfriend was what? Jealous?

This was a new, more sensitive side to Faith that Frank had not witnessed before. He liked it; liked the sense of power it gave him.

“Yeah, Anya is ‘almost’ as big a bitch as you,” Frank mumbled. Before Faith could counter, he took her in his arms and held her tightly to him.

“Give up Xander, please Faith,” Frank whispered into her ear. “For Anya’s sake, but for mine too I’m tired of hurting and hurting us, baby. I love you Faith, I do.”

Faith pulled back from Frank, just far enough to look into his dark, sad but beautiful eyes. The Harris boys had such beautiful eyes; especially Frank, or so Faith felt.

“I’ll stop ‘being with’ Xander,” she stated evenly, her gaze never broke from his.

Frank pulled Faith back into his strong embrace and stroked her lovely long dark hair, lovingly. “Thank you baby,” he murmured tenderly, trying to hide the sorrow in his voice.

Frank Harris could always detect a lie, even when the one telling it was looking him right in the eye. Even when the teller was such a consummate liar like his lover, Faith.


{The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything…

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end…

You could have it all
My empire made of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt.}



All day, at the station, Buffy and Spike had sat in the same office; had lunch together, with Rupert of course and went over the Harris case. The makeshift desk they had given Spike was across the room from Buffy’s, but that did not keep him from watching her for most of the day.

Buffy would be concentrating on her paperwork and suddenly ‘feel’ a warm gaze her way. When she looked up, she would find Spike looking at her; that incredibly sexy smile of his held promise.

‘You’re doing it again,’ Buffy said accused him silently as she returned the smile.

‘Doing what?’ Spike seemed to ask, his left scarred brow quirked up in innocent question.

Buffy glanced over at her boss, Rupert Giles, who merely rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that day. Then he removed his glasses and rubbed them, thoroughly, on his handkerchief…again.

Spike chuckled lowly and winked at Buffy, apparently having noticed his uncle’s reaction to the flirting going on between them.

“About finished there Princess?” Spike purred, ignoring his uncle’s exasperated glare.

“Just about,” Buffy murmured softly, her green eyes locked into Spike’s blue ones.

“I thought maybe Chinese take out tonight, sweetling,” Spike stated evenly, again ignoring Rupert’s grunt of disapproval. It was always business with Uncle Rupes; Spike was well aware of that.

“Sounds terrific,” Buffy giggled happily as she slammed the paperwork folder on her desk closed. “It’s nearly 6:00; let’s blow this joint!”

Spike threw his own paperwork into the desk drawer and eagerly followed his lover out to the office door.

“See you tomorrow Giles,” Buffy called behind her as she exited the office. She gave her supervisor a cheery little wave as she left.

“Don’t expect us too early Rupes,” Spike crowed gleefully following Buffy out of the office.

“Oh good Lord!” Rupert sighed loudly as he shook his graying head in exasperation.


“Buffy,” Spike moaned in pleasure as he thrust his cock into her sweet little cunny. One more thrust and both he and Buffy were sent reeling into major orgasms.

“That was by far the most amazing time yet tonight, sweetheart,” Spike purred into Buffy’s ear.

They were snuggled up together in Buffy’s bed, basking in the afterglow of their last round of love making.

Once they had left the office; picked up the Chinese takeout and some wine, the couple had hurried back to Buffy’s place. Before they could set up for supper, however, Buffy and Spike had been distracted by each other.

The uneaten Chinese food had been left on the kitchen table, all but forgotten, while Spike stripped Buffy’s of her clothes. They had barely made it to the bedroom before Spike had Buffy naked and writhing beneath him. He was naked and writhing too, of course, by this time so it all worked out very nicely thank you.

“Yeah, it was amazing, wasn’t it,” Buffy giggled in response.

“I know you were hungry, sweet,” Spike murmured as he gently stroked Buffy’s luscious neck. “Sorry I ruined dinner by sweeping you off to your bed here,” he added with a wicked little smile.

“No you’re not,” Buffy purred in contentment at the feel of Spike’s wonderful fingers on her bare neck and shoulder.

“Besides,” she continued with a nice big stretch of her arms, “we can always reheat the food, right?”


A/N: Well, there this one is. I wanted to have ‘some’ Spuffy in this so I ended the chapter with the Spike and Buffy interaction. This chapter was mainly posted to reveal some of the other character’s plot lines.

I chose to start it off angstsy (thus the title of this chapter) and end it on a sweet Spuffy note.

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.





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