Spoilers: All of BtVS. Begins three years after Chosen and then turns AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Dream of You
Xander threw his coat across the back of the soft, leather sofa and tossed his keys onto the glass end table. He began rummaging through the heap of mail he picked up on the way in, tossing the junk into a wastebasket and flinging the more important envelopes onto the kitchen table. Bills, bills and more bills.
Loosening the tie he was forced to wear for the benefit of the higher ups during the usual monday meeting, he rolled his head side to side, stretching his neck muscles and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. God, he hated Mondays. Almost three weeks without a day off was taking its toll and Xander was showing signs of finally crashing from the exhaustion. The promotion to Site Manager and the money thrown his way that came with the title was nice, but the expectation of always having to be there was more than he could handle at times.
He glanced at the application held in place on the refrigerator by a magnet and took a large drink from the bottle. Maybe it was time to be daring. He shook his head. He’d have to think about it a little while longer.
Xander grabbed a plate of leftover pizza and headed into the living room, passing the flashing answering machine on the way. They’d better not be calling me into work. He put down his bottle and plate, flipped the power on the remote control and then pushed the button on the machine.
“Hey, Xander. Haven’t heard from you in a while so I thought I’d call. Hope you’re doing okay. Buffy says she misses you, and you know I do. Keep in touch, okay?” Click. The machine shut off and Dawn's voice disappeared. Xander sighed.
That wasn’t his life anymore. Things had changed for him in the three years since the Hellmouth was closed. He cut himself off from everyone (mostly), moved all the way to Vermont where as far as he could tell, there were no vampires, no slayers and no demons to attach himself to. He lived a normal, simple, somewhat secluded life, give or take the one night stands that never had a chance to become more. Xander didn’t want more. A relationship wasn’t on his agenda.
The only thing that had changed more than his location was his openness to explore all sides of his sexuality. He’d gone out one night to celebrate with one of the male clients the company was contracted to build for, and was surprised when he found himself in the corner, playing tonsil hockey with the man. He was drunk, no doubt about it, but the fact that he’d whacked off that night in the shower with thoughts of bulging male muscles instead of soft, feminine curves told him there might be something more to it.
It was a small town, though, and word traveled fast. He was afraid of what other people might think and even more so of losing his job if there were any less than accepting partners in his construction company. He decided not to explore his newfound curiosity unless he was certain it would be kept under wraps. The first step in any life change was accepting it. Xander finally admitted to himself that he was interested in exploring sex with men. Although, the thought still sent nervous chills through his body.
He shrugged and let out a tired breath, forgetting his cold pizza, focusing more on the piece of paper attached to the refrigerator. He needed a vacation and maybe it was time he took one. He grabbed the page, sat down at the table and began filling out the application.
I can do this. He stood in front of his fax machine, threatening to press the send button. No, I can’t. Xander, what do you think you’re doing? He grabbed the application and read over it again. Blond hair, blue eyes. Black jeans and leather. That part he’d left out.
It had been a couple of years since he’d thought about Spike. As much as he hated to admit it, he was more than impressed by what the vampire had done for them. Who would have guessed Spike would save the world? Xander also didn’t want to admit that the last few months before the final battle, he’d learned to accept him. Actually began to like him. The banter and snide comments between the two were more for shits and giggles than actual distain for each other. Spike, he could now also admit, was the first man Xander had ever pictured kissing.
He put the paper back into the machine and this time pressed the button. No turning back now. All he had to do was wait out the next couple of days until the agency called him back.
He heard the phone ringing as soon as he put the key in the door. Fighting with the lock, he turned and twisted, rushing to make it inside the apartment. Three days had passed and he’d heard nothing back from his application. Come on, come on, don’t hang up!
“Hello,” he answered on the sixth ring, just before the machine picked up.
“Mr. Harris? This is ‘Dream of You Escort Service’ calling about a recent inquiry you made.”
His heart pounded wildly against his chest. The call. “Yes, this is Mr. Harris.”
The arrangements were set, vacation approved and Xander was already packing for Las Vegas. He was scheduled to be at the airport the following evening, luckily giving him little to no time to change his mind. He was really going to do this. Nervously, he fell asleep, anticipating the upcoming weekend.
What the hell was he doing? This was too weird, even by his standards. Vampires, okay. Demons, the norm. Xander Harris flying across the entire map of the US to hopefully have his homosexual cherry popped by some anonymous stranger? No less, a professional? Xander began to panic. What if he didn’t cut it? What if he couldn’t go through with it? What if he… Shut up, Xander. This is exactly what you need.
He landed in Vegas shortly before dark, met by a stretch limo the agency had provided. The drinks offered on the plane had calmed him enough to accept that this was actually going to happen. He had one purpose for being here, and he fully intended to get what he came for. As long as he didn’t chicken out.
His suite was larger than his entire apartment. Although his was a nice, lush, roomy place, this, was something else. This was living in the lap of luxury. A man could seriously get used to it. He ventured the suite, taking in the full extent of his accommodations, before raiding the mini-fridge of all the tiny bottles of alcohol. He was a ball of nervous energy. Sheesh, you’d think I’d never been laid before. He was left on his own with no plans for the evening, so he decided to take advantage and rest up for the big day ahead of him.
He woke to the sound of the phone, where he was given his agenda for the day. Breakfast, followed by a full body massage, facial, manicure, body wrap, sauna, lunch… Xander looked at his written list. Yep. Definitely turning into the female in this situation. Did that mean? Did he have to? He hadn’t thought about that! Did it mean he was automatically supposed to be the bottom when he… Panic set in again as he began pacing the length of the suite. Do I make the first move? Does he? Do we just have the naughty male sex and then leave? And exactly how would it happen? Whenever he pictured himself with another man, which admittedly had been more often than not as of late, he assumed he’d be the one to… not to… Fuck.
It was 6:00 PM when Xander stepped off the elevator, dressed to impress. Changing his outfit several times, yep, definite trip to the head doctor as soon as I get back, he finally decided on snug fitting Levi’s button fly 501 jeans and a white dress shirt, tucked in place with a belt. On his feet were new dress boots bought just for the occasion, along with a waist length black leather coat.
He sat nervously in the lobby, tapping his fingers along the padded arm of the chair, waiting for his ‘date’ to arrive. When a short, bald, middle-aged man appeared in front of him, saying his name, he froze. Where’s the blond hair? Blue, penetrating eyes? This wasn’t what he’d paid for.
Xander contemplated not answering. He could just stand up and walk away. Pretend not to be Mr. Harris, and then what? Slink away, wasting two grand on a back massage and manicure? Damn.
“Yes, I’m Xander Harris.”
“Very good, sir. Your escort is awaiting you in front of the hotel. Do you have any other questions before your evening begins?”
Xander shook his head as his heart flip-flopped with relief. No way in hell was his first time gonna be with a Danny Devito impersonator. The other man sensed his embarrassed apprehension and cleared his throat, turned around and waited for Xander to follow.
They reached the long, white limo parked directly in front of the lobby and Mr. Devito opened the door.
“Enjoy your evening, sir.”
Xander leaned in to step inside and received the shock of his life.
Xander tripped on his feet and landed heavily in the seat, keeping his eyes on the other man the entire time.
“What the… how?” He gulped down air, trying to remember to breathe.
He immediately received the eyebrow and the head tilt. “Alexander Harris?” Spike’s voice, too.
“Oh my god! How? How did you get here?!”
The blue eyes gazed curiously at him. “Took a car same as you, I suspect.”
Xander’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “I took a plane… but I mean here, in Vegas. Deep breath, Xander. “What are you doing here?!”
Spike sat back, sprawling in his seat, acting like he owned the place. “If you’re asking ‘bout my life story, I assumed that would come over dinner. Makes for friendly conversation and such.”
“I don’t understand. How did you get here?!” Xander slowed the question, trying to make Spike understand, the way you would explain something to a five year old.
“I heard you the first time,” he answered, sounding a little annoyed. He was looking as if he was ready to bolt. “Alex? Is it alright if I call you that?”
Xander watched, stunned and more than a little confused as Spike tipped out a cigarette, brought it to his lips and lit it. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Definitely entered the world of totally insane. He shook his head no and watched as Spike began to smoke. Same eyes, same hair, same clothes right down to the long, leather duster. But it couldn’t be! Spike was dust! His ashes were buried in the bottom of the hellmouth! And he wants to call me Alex?
“What’s that?” Spike was staring, watching him closely with interest.
“My name. It’s Xander.”
Spike shrugged. “Pegged you for an Alex.”
“Okay, call me crazy, but you are Spike, right? I’m not just imagining things?”
“Well, yeah? At your service, mate. I didn’t think they were supposed to tell you that, though.”
Xander shook his head again. “Huh? Who wasn’t supposed to tell me what?”
“My name. They usually don’t tell you. I think they figure it adds to the ‘mystery’ effect of the date. I guess, if you’re into that rubbish. Me? I like to know a little about the person I’m gonna shag. Name included.”
Xander slumped back in his seat, speechless, listening to Spike talk about shagging him like it was just another thing. Call the crazy farm and check me in. “Uh, Spike? Do you know who I am at all?”
He crushed the finished butt into the built-in ashtray and nodded. “Course I do.”
“Okaayyy?” Xander said slowly.
“You’re Alexander Harris from Vermont, you spent a boat load of dosh for a chance to shag a blond haired, blue eyed man, remarkably described just like yours truly. ‘Bout right?”
Xander opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. He began glancing around the limo, searching for something… anything to help ease his confusion. “Where the fuck do they keep the liquor?”
Spike chuckled. “Now you’re talkin’!” He flipped open a small cabinet under Xander’s seat and pulled out a large bottle. “Will this do?”
Xander nodded and as Spike began searching for the glasses, he snatched the bottle from the other man’s hand. He uncapped it and tilted it to his lips. Spike’s brow rose again, watching with amusement. Xander eased off and handed the bottle of Jack Daniels back.
“You don’t know the part about how I came from Sunnydale?”
Spike shrugged and took a large gulp from the bottle. “Sunnydale? Where’s that?”
Xander sighed and closed his eyes. It was a joke. Someone was playing a huge, incredible joke on him.
“Sunnydale. In California. The last place I saw you.” He opened his eyes, realizing he didn’t want to miss Spike’s reaction.
Spike took another drink and casually answered. “Sorry, mate. Never been to California.” Another head tilt and Spike’s eyes gained a flicker of understanding. “Is that what all this is about? You think I’m some bloke you know from… Sunnydale was it?”
Xander nodded, waiting for the padded white truck to show up.
“Oh, bloody hell, thank god. There for a minute, I just thought you were goin’ round the bend. Sorry, mate. Must just look like someone else then. Been living here in Vegas my whole life.”
Xander looked him over from head to toe, trying to find anything that would convince him it wasn’t the Spike he knew. But what was he supposed to say now? Oh, by the way… not only am I loosing my mind but I also think you’re a vampire I knew three years ago who burned up trying to save the world. That’ll go over well.
“Sorry. Yeah, you’re just the spitting image of someone I knew. Someone I kinda… lost a few years ago.”
Spike nodded as if he understood. “Ah. Boyfriend?”
Xander laughed out loud. “Hell no! We didn’t even like each other. Well, not really.” Amnesia. He has amnesia. Can vampires have amnesia? “He was a… he was in love with my best friend.”
Spike made an ‘oh’ expression with his lips. “Sodding triangle, was it.” He tipped the bottle up again. “Never ends well, that. Someone winds up getting buggered in the end. And not in the good way either.”
Xander grabbed the Jack Daniels and took another drink. “No. Wasn’t like that. I just, didn’t know it myself… how I felt, at the time. Just decided a little while ago that maybe guys were… okay.”
Spike lit another cigarette. “In the closet, are you?”
Xander almost choked. “No! No closet. Not even a tiny closet. Just… not sure about the whole guy guy thing yet.”
Spike’s snicker turned into a smirk. “Better be bloody sure, mate. You didn’t pay all that dosh to play footsies under the table. Got plans for you.”
Xander gulped but didn’t say anything. This was all too weird.
“Okay. So about this bloke. What, he run off with the best friend or somethin’?”
Xander cleared his throat and looked down. “Died. In a fire.”
Spike’s eyes widened. “Bugger.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to…”
Spike. The evil vamp apologizing to me. The light bulb in his head lit up as the thought occurred to him. Vampire. If he’s a vampire, it has to be him! Xander shrugged. “It’s okay. Seems like a lifetime ago.” He looked around, trying to find… a cross? Yeah. Like they would leave crosses lying around in limousines. “I uh, don’t even think abut him much anymore.” A mirror. No mirror anywhere. Damn. Maybe he could just touch him. Excuse me. I just want to hold your wrist for a minute so I can check for a pulse. Xander began to chuckle, finding the situation ridiculously funny.
His gaze focused again on the other man sitting across from him. “Nothing. Sorry.”
“Well, alright then, Xander. I think we’re here. You hungry?” Spike almost seemed relieved.
Xander cocked his head. “Are you? Hungry?”
Spike rubbed his hands vigorously together and stepped out when the chauffer opened the door. “Point me to a steak. I’m famished!”
If the blond had been watching Xander’s expression, he would have seen the look of pure humor. Spike, asking for a stake. Could this night get any stranger?
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