A/N: okay, this is longer, so sorry, because I know it's demanding of your time, especially as it doesn't even get to the thing it was meant to get to - that drama comes next chapter now.

But who doesn't need a 'getting heaps of money spent on me' montage?

Tim had been reluctant to leave Xander's apartment. He'd felt incredible, and not just because of the way he'd felt when Xander had controlled him that way. If anything, he didn't know whether to be freaked out by how good it had been. He'd never considered that he'd like – more than like – being called a slut. He was used to names. Simon called him that sometimes, and plenty of the guys on the cam chat, and it did nothing but make him grit his teeth. But when Xander had said it, there'd been a feeling underlying the sound of it. Almost as though the word was simply a synonym for 'good boy', or 'Angel', and held the same kind of meaning and value.

Anyway, it wasn't just the mind-blowing sex. Afterwards, Xander – and he was getting more comfortable calling him that inside his own head, almost as if they were friends, or something – had held him close, wrapped long arms around his body and tickled his neck with kisses and nuzzles while a random show was playing, unwatched, in the background. Tim hadn't cared, had been fully focused on the novel sensation of having someone touch him in a way that wasn't demanding, or expectant.

Xander had made him chicken salad at lunchtime and even a fruit platter later. And had never even suggested he was going to take more in any kind of tit-for-tat – even if Tim would happily have let it happen in that case. And when Tim had finally had to admit he needed to leave, it felt as though Xander had been equally as unwilling to let him go, pulling him back in with more nuzzles, and stroking his hair like he was a cat. When, really, it was Xander who was more like a big cat – albeit a Tiger – curling and pressing and purring.

He'd finally called the car for Tim, and managed to partly hide the sulk, although not completely, and Tim liked how it made him just the smallest bit less intimidating. More real. Maybe Tim wasn't the only one with flaws.

"Where've you been?"

Simon was pissed. No surprise. But even more pissed than the morning, when he'd sworn at Tim for going out and told him he'd have to work tonight and tomorrow to make up for missing so many sessions.

"Out."

Tim tried to keep his voice confident, but it wavered despite his best efforts. It always did. It was why Simon thought he was a 'pussy'. It's why...it was why other people thought he was weak, and needed to be controlled. It was why people thought he was dumb. Slow, even.

It wasn't the time to think about the past, though.

"It doesn't matter, Simon. I'm here. Rent will be sorted."

"You'll be lucky. You probably lost all your regulars. I told you it would happen. You'll have to do more sessions to catch up and get new ones."

"I'm not doing that."

"You are if I tell you to."

There was no point getting into an argument at that moment. Tim went to shower instead, embracing the delicious soreness in his muscles from Xander taking him. He wasn't sure yet about thinking of Xander as his Dominant, although he could see enough to know that would be where it would have to go – that was where Xander was foreseeing, or maybe even just seeing already. Tim chuckled to himself as he thought of how whole-heartedly Xander had apparently jumped into this thing between them, but the merriment turned into seriousness when he realized he was, too. Without a doubt, Tim was already seeing a future that had Xander in it, and he was sure he should be terrified by the speed and the depth of those feelings, but he couldn't bring himself to be. There was a safety about Xander that Tim had never experienced before – a trust that had blanketed down like fresh fallen snow and the short times he'd spent with Xander felt cocooned and protected under it.

He didn't bother fully rinsing away the lubricant that Xander had pushed inside him earlier with such care hidden behind that greedy persona of arrogance. Simon did have one point, that Tim would need to try and bring people on board – so tonight's session couldn't be one of his relaxed, lazy plays. He'd have to do more, and suddenly the ache wasn't feeling so welcome.

* * * * *

'Do you have plans for today?'

'Nothing till work l8er sir'

'Get ready'

Tim was already up, thankfully, and Simon was out. He showered quickly but carefully as he was even more tender after the night before. It'd been true that he had fewer people signed up, and even less actually bothering to leave tips, so he'd had to pretty much do everything the way they wanted. And people always wanted more, and rougher.

He wouldn't let it get him down though, even as it felt like he was bruised to fuck as he hiked up his torn skinny jeans. He had a moment where he wondered if Xander wouldn't like him in such scruffy clothes, but then he sighed when he realized he didn't have much choice. Most of his clothes were at least a bit shabby, and it least the tears in this pair were meant to be there. Besides, no way was he forcing them back down now.

There was a knock on the door just as Tim fitted the small studs he wore intermittently in his lobe and helix, and he bounced to answer it, greeting Xander with a wide smile, forgetting his discomfort. He wasn't sure what the next step was. Should he drop to his knees? A lot of those websites he'd looked at had a lot to say about kneeling for you Dominant, though Xander hadn't said anything about it.

Before he could decide, Xander had pulled him in, hands cradling his face, and kissed him, hard and surprisingly passionate for a Sunday morning, making Tim giggle.

"Something funny, Angel?"

But he was smiling, so Tim just grinned back.

"I like it, Sir."

"Good. You can expect a lot more like that. Come on, we're going out."

Tim followed Xander down to the car. He had no idea what type – though it was the same as the one that had taken him to and from Xander's the day before. It wasn't as big as a limousine, he thought, though it had backwards seats and a black glass-like barrier between the driver and the passengers. Xander slid Tim across the smooth leather to the seat right next to him and clicked his seatbelt into place, slinging his long arm over Tim's shoulder in a way that felt really secure, and made it easy for Tim to squirrel into his side, even going so far as to kick off his battered sneakers and curl up on the seat.

Eventually, Xander ruffled his hair.

"You really are the cutest. We're here."

Tim had almost been in a daze, just enjoying Xander's warmth, and it took him a moment to come back to himself and push his shoes on. By the time he was done, Xander had the door open for him, the driver standing behind him with a knowing smirk, and he took Tim's hand and guided him onto the sidewalk.

"I'll await your call, Sir," the driver said and, with a nod to Tim, he was gone.

Tim turned to finally look at where Xander had brought him.

"Cinerarius? Are we going here, Sir?"

"We sure are, Angel. I'm in need of a few treatments, and I bet you'd like to freshen up that hair of yours."

"But, Sir, there's no way...I can't afford it here," Tim's voice was quietly shamed. He knew Xander had money – his apartment proved that – but Tim didn't move in that kind of world.

"Timothy," Xander took his shoulders and then tilted his chin up so he couldn't help but look right into ocean-blue eyes, "what are you?"

Tim didn't know what he meant, and he could feel tears welling that he couldn't get something right so early on, but Xander bent to drop a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"You're mine, Angel. And I look after what's mine. No, shh," he said when Tim opened his mouth, "I won't hear anything about it. It's part of who I am, and what I want as your Dom. You will make me happy if you let me take care of you. Understand?"

"Ye- Yes, Sir. Thank you."

"Good." Xander ran a finger down Tim's cheek making him shudder and lean forward. "Such a good boy for me, so responsive. Come on."

Tim walked into the busy, high-class salon holding Xander's hand probably a little too tight, really feeling the inadequacy of his clothes now. He didn't have time to think about it too much though before a tall dark man with narrow hips and smooth black hair knotted in a thick plait sashayed over and planted a noisy kiss on each of Xander's cheeks.

"Darling, right on time. And who is this tiny piece of adorableness?"

Tim glanced to Xander for guidance. The man was something like a whirlwind and definitely overwhelming.

"Kohana, this is my new submissive, Timothy."

Tim stared, stunned that Xander would just come out and say it like that, like it was something people just introduced themselves as.

"Oh, darling, don't worry yourself," Kohana smirked, "half the people here are in the lifestyle in one way or another. Though you'd be right to be careful at the next monster truck rally you go to." He laughed as if he'd made a great joke, but then his beautiful face transformed into 'all-business'. "Right, I have you for a cut, and then I'll do you, Xander, while our sweet boy gets his color done by Frederika – she's the best darling – and I'll get the elves to do your nails while you're waiting for that to take. Come, come."

Tim found himself in a high chair, looking at his reflection while Kohana played with the strands of his hair and cradled his own chin, pondering.

"Your last cut was terrible, sweetie, I'm sorry. Do you trust me to fix it?"

Tim nodded, still overwhelmed, grateful when Xander, who was seated to his side, reached a hand over so Tim could close his eyes and grip his fingers.

He kept his eyes closed for the time it took Kohana to complete the cut, though he did enjoy the sensation.

"Open your eyes, darling," Kohana trilled eventually, and he allowed them to flick open, and to take in the brand new reflection staring back at him.

His hair was still messy, but stylishly so now, cut close to the back and sides but with plenty of length left up top. It meant only the longer bits were still blue, and the newly revealed sides were back to his boring sandy brown, making him pout.

"I'm guessing you're eager for color again, Frederika!" Kohana called before turning to Xander. "You like? It makes more of his delicate bone structure. Look at that neck."

Xander was, with a lascivious light in his eyes that made Tim's newly greatly exposed neck pink.

"Thank you," Tim finally managed to whisper, "I really like it."

Kohana smiled warmly at him, ruffling the long top before moving over to Xander to start on his cut.

Tim was distracted when an older lady with white blonde hair approached behind him. He could see, as the glass sheets of her shoulder-length hair swung, that she had a rainbow dyed under it, and his mouth dropped in amazement.

"You like?"

"It's marvelous," he breathed.

"I could do something similar for you. Though it would have to be less subtle."

"Oh, no, not for me," blue hair was one thing, but, pretty as the rainbow was, he wasn't ready to draw quite that much attention, "I'll stick to blue, I think."

"As you wish," she smiled, whipping out a book of samples and flicking the page to the blues.

Tim decided on a darker shade than he'd had before, and Frederika got to work with the bleach prep. By the time he was waiting for the bleach to take, Xander was done. His hair looked almost the same, if tidier of course, though Tim doubted any cut he chose could either detract or enhance how perfectly handsome he was.

"You ready for a manicure?" Xander asked.

"Really?"

"Of course, Angel. Got to keep those pretty fingers in top condition. You could put some color on if you like."

A stern-faced young woman with a trolley had appeared by Xander's side as he spoke, but her face broke into a smile as she glanced at Tim.

"Let me guess," she said in accented-English, looking Tim up and down, "Blue paint?"

"Yes, please," Tim giggled, offering his hand as she waved a file.

By the time they were done, Tim felt like a million dollars, his nails glossy and electric blue, and his hair a navy with lighter highlights near the front, styled by Kohana after Frederika had finished with him. He tried not to feel awkward as Xander paid for everything with a black card, and pressed what looked like a thick wad of cash into Kohana's hand, especially when Xander returned to his side and told him they were going for a late lunch before more shopping.

He saw the glint in Xander's eyes as he could clearly tell Tim wanted to protest, but his stomach rumbled loudly, poorly sustained even on the coffee and muffins the salon had supplied them with.

"What are you hungry for, Angel?"

Tim didn't let himself answer the obvious – 'you' – and considered the question. He had to work later, so he didn't want anything too heavy.

"Could we have subs, maybe, Sir?"

Xander snorted, but nodded, and held his hand as they walked to the next block, to a deli-style restaurant.

"It's what I was going to suggest, actually. This place does amazing sandwiches."

Tim looked at the menu in fear, the options swimming on huge blackboards above the counter.

"Um?"

"Would you like me to order for you?"

"Yes please, Sir," Tim whispered gratefully, leaning into Xander's side.

They found a round iron table near the back of the deli, and Xander fished out several wrapped sandwiches.

"So, pastrami, turkey, or mozzarella?"

"Um, turkey please, Sir."

Xander passed over the thick sandwich and a soda and unwrapped his own, which looked like turkey too.

"Turkey's your favorite too, Sir?" Tim asked before taking a small bite out of one of the four sections his sub was cut into.

"It's easier to stay lean on white meat. Though you need to bulk up a little so more protein for you wouldn't hurt."

"I've always been skinny, Sir. Might take more than a sandwich."

Xander grinned at Tim's cheeky tone and passed over a cheese stick.

"Perhaps, Angel, but it's my job to make sure you're healthy now, and I bet you don't eat enough."

Tim shrugged, a little put out. Not because he was being called on his eating habits – Xander was right that he didn't eat enough; he didn't have the money to – but did it mean Xander didn't like the way he looked?

"I see that pout. Why? Words," Xander demanded.

"It's just...I'm sorry I'm too bony, Sir, I know it doesn't look nice."

"Angel, you're perfect. Right now, and if you manage a bit more cover. You'll always be perfect."

Tim blushed and lowered his head, thrilled, focusing on his food, happy to please his Dom.

Nevertheless, he only managed two sections, and the cheese stick, before he was stuffed. In his defense, the sandwich was huge, and Xander had only eaten three of his.

"Good job, Angel. Well done for trying."

Xander wrapped the remaining food and place it back into the paper sack, taking Tim's hand and leading him out of the busy store. As they travelled down the block, Xander stopped them at the mouth of an alley.

"Wait here, Angel."

Tim waited, uncertain, as Xander entered the alley. He still had the paper sack, and Tim saw him leaning over a bundle of rags. Tim meeped when the bundle moved and revealed a sleepy gray-haired head, which accepted a sandwich and a soda from Xander's outstretched hand. Tim watched in wonder as Xander passed out more sandwiches to other people that rose up from beneath worn blankets and, by the looks of it, a few notes too.

"How did you know there were people there, Sir?" he asked when Xander had joined him back out on the sidewalk.

"I volunteer at a soup kitchen, and George is often there. So I know that alley is where he makes his base when he doesn't get into a shelter. And if he isn't there, there's always others. It's well protected from bad weather. So I always get extra food when I visit that deli."

Tim stared up at Xander in wonder, tightly holding onto his hand. It felt good to know he was with someone who looked after people just because he could, with no ulterior motive.

"Have you been doing it for long, Sir?"

"No, actually. I started because a good friend of mine, one of the submissives from the club, was homeless for a while, and I realized how important it was to help. I only did volunteering in the Big Brother program before that."

Tim didn't have much chance to be even more impressed, because they arrived in front of a jewelry store. He could tell, because it had one of those tiny windows with very thick glass set into the brick of the front wall, behind which was a dummy neck and décolletage, clad only in a thick choker that he'd guess was real diamonds.

"Do you like it, Angel?" Xander asked as they waited for the heavy door to open.

"It's pretty, Sir. A bit gaudy though, for day-to-day."

Xander chuckled, pulling Tim into his side as the door opened.

"Greetings Mr. Miller," the hulking security guard intoned, as Xander returned his greeting and they entered the glittering enclave of the small store.

"Xander," the handsome gray-haired man behind the glass-topped counter said. "It's been a while."

"It has, Roland, hello."

"How can I assist you today?"

"I'd like to get my boy some jewelry. Earrings."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Angel, I saw those pretty little studs. They look very sweet on you. I'd like to buy you something special."

"Thank you, Sir." Accepting Xander's generosity was easy when he saw the pleased smile it garnered.

Roland drew them over to a cabinet and pulled out an array of earrings, which Tim stared at in wonder. They were all beautiful, and most of them looked very expensive. He couldn't possibly choose, but his eyes had clearly given him away.

"This one?" Xander asked, plucking out a small crescent moon helix piercing that looked as though it was clad in tiny diamonds and sapphires. "Blue moon?" he added with a chuckle.

Tim turned to him with a small nod.

"If I may, Sirs, this piercing goes rather well, and each one would be interchangeable between helix and lobe."

Roland lifted a small pin that had three stars in a row, the center, larger one, a deep sapphire blue, and the smaller two a paler shade.

"You like, Angel?"

"It's very pretty, Sir."

Xander left him to put them in and went to pay Roland, bringing back a small bag with his old earrings carefully encased in small velvet cases.

When they'd thanked Roland and returned to the sidewalk, Xander turned Tim to him, raising a hand to run his fingertips over the glittering piercings.

"Beautiful. Why do you like blue so much, Angel?"

"It's dumb...Sir."

"Nothing about you is dumb, my sweet. I won't make you tell me though."

"What it means," Tim rushed out. "When I was about twelve, I found out that blue meant sad. I got silly. Started insisting everything I had was blue. It felt as though it meant something to me. And then I guess it just became my thing."

"Why were you sad, Angel?"

"It's...it doesn't matter, Sir. It was a long time ago."

Xander gave him a searching look, but sighed, obviously deciding to drop the subject for the time being.

"Come on. I want to buy you some clothes."

Tim bit his lip, wanting to protest. He hadn't seen the price of the jewelry, or the salon for that matter, but he knew Xander had spent more on him today than his family had probably spent on him in over ten years. But he didn't. It was obviously making him happy, and Tim was already finding a huge amount of pleasure in making his Dom happy – he suspected, just as much as Xander found in doing these things for Tim.

As they arrived at a fancy boutique, with huge plate glass windows offering a smorgasbord of expensive but boring looking suits and preppy casual wear, Tim wrinkled his nose. But he didn't want to upset Xander. The man always dressed very well, and undoubtedly from stores like this, and it suited him, incredibly so. But, even if it wouldn't suit Tim, he wasn't going to throw Xander's kindness in his face.

Xander's phone rang as they approached the door.

"Okay, Angel, that's my sister, I need to take it. Go and see if there's anything you like, I'll be in in a few minutes."

"Okay, Sir." Tim planted a weak smile on his face and pushed the heavy door open.

The moment he walked inside he was made certain he didn't belong here. Not just because the outfits weren't what he'd ever go near, but because of the sneer that seemed like an automatic reaction from the prissy looking assistant. And matching ones from a pair of highly fashionable browsers with their noses in the air. Most people would school their faces after having a reaction like that, but not these gems. Tim tried not to let it bother him, but he knew his face had gone too pink, and he felt hot, wishing his over-washed blue Henley wasn't missing buttons on the neck and the dark ravens in flight across his pec weren't visible in the gap.

He took a breath, approaching a table sparsely populated with neatly folded t-shirts and twisted scarves. He picked a scarf up – it was nice fabric, soft – and he couldn't help but notice that it didn't have a price tag attached. That kind of store then. He tried to fold it back up – it wasn't as thought he was much of a scarf-wearer anyway – and thought he had something that was a fairly close approximation of the others, moving away to look at some sweaters hanging from a rail to the side. Of course, he clearly heard the assistant tutting, and moving to the table to refold the scarf, though it looked the same to Tim when the man had finished.

It was bright in the store; everything a little too white and clean, the bass too heavy, making Tim's already tense head ache even more. There was another table, with a few pairs of folded jeans, and he picked up a pair, holding it against himself. They were his waist size, but the legs were too long, and he was careful to refold them exactly like they had been. That didn't stop the assistant's noises of disapproval and approach to refold them, again.

He was looking at some hanging shirts when the man finally approached him.

"If you aren't going to buy anything, can you stop touching everything?" he said scornfully.

"I might be buying something?" Tim suggested, confused.

"Oh, I doubt it, sweetheart," the assistant sneered, looking him up and down.

Tim couldn't help the unbidden tears from rising, and bit his lip hard to distract himself. He knew this place wasn't for him, but the guy didn't have to remind him. He was relieved beyond anything when Xander finally pushed through the large door, sliding his phone into his pocket, and took in the scene.

"Mr Miller, Sir, how wonderful to see you."

Tim hadn't expected that, and blushed harder that he'd managed to embarrass Xander in a store he obviously came to often.

"Phillipe, hello. Is there a problem here?"

"Oh, no, Sir. We do sometimes get people coming in thinking they can fake class, I'm just getting rid of him."

Xander's jaw dropped in shock, and then screwed up in anger.

"Angel? Is there a problem here?" He held out an arm and Tim gratefully rushed to curl against his side.

"No, Sir. I'm not sure they have what I'd like though," he whispered, though he had a little gratification when it was apparently Phillipe's turn to blush, and have his jaw drop in shock.

"Okay, Angel. Let's find somewhere better suited to your taste." Xander turned them away, only pausing to throw over his shoulder, "And, Phillipe, I can assure you, if I ever catch you speaking about a customer like that again, I will ensure you no longer have a position here."

"Are you okay, Angel? Really?"

"Yes, Sir. It was uncomfortable, but I don't really blame him. I really don't belong somewhere like that."

"Only because it's way too fuddy duddy for someone as vibrant as you. I'm sure we can find something better suited."

A/N: a word of confirmation - if you've read 'Differences' you might be confused by Xander's comment about his 'homeless friend'  - just know that I've already decided the published version of 'Differences' is going to make a lot more of that situation. If you haven't read it, it's fine, and you can just take it as confirmation that Xander's a caring kinda guy