*****

The soft cotton against his face smelled fresh, like laundry detergent and warmth. In other words, not like Xander at all and it wasn't enough. Spike growled at his own sorry state. He was sitting on the bed that he had started to share with Harmony, holding a pair of Xander's boxers to his face lovingly as if they were the boy himself.

Everything was going horribly wrong! How could he be in love with the Slayer's lackey? The whelp never spared him a glance, even when he wasn't too busy tripping over his own feet or falling to his knees for his demon-bitch to do so. Spike snorted. They did have things in common. They were both sad, pathetic and almost completely unable to defend themselves in an attack yet could never stop getting their sorry asses into trouble. The vampire was not thoroughly comforted by this thought. He rose from the bed and headed for the door of the crypt. He needed to get out, take a walk. A *real* walk. One that didn't end with him spending two hours smoking outside of the brat's house hoping to catch a sign of him through the basement window. That wasn't even a factor anymore. Spike growled again. Even that had been taken away from him, as he had found out ungracefully that morning. The whelp had finally gotten off his ass and moved out. He now lived in a pretty decent apartment, far far away from mummy and daddy where the demon-bitch could have her wicked way with him whenever she saw fit. That wasn't even what bothered Spike. For some reason, thinking of Xander and Anya together didn't bother him as much as it should. Xander didn't love her. She had said so herself. They were almost as close as him and Harmony. What bothered him about the bloody apartment was that he no longer had an open invite! He couldn't drop in on the boy whenever he pleased anymore.

‘And what exactly would you do if you could Spike?' he thought disgustedly to himself. ‘Maybe steal some more of his knickers and start a collection?'

At this thought, the vampire realized that he was still clutching said knickers in his fist and he flung them back towards the bed in fury.

"I will NOT be reduced to this!" he bellowed to the empty room. The past few days had been the most humiliating of his unlife.

What had he been looking for? What the Hell did he think he was going to find when he returned to that hate-filled house that Xander had called his home for all of his life?

The night before last when he had tried to comfort the boy, Xander had shied away from him. ‘Shocking Spike, really did ya think the whelp would cry on your bloody shoulder? You've tried to kill him for fuck's sake!' After a few minutes of awkward silence Xander had risen. He hadn't looked back towards the house, he had just picked up a pile of envelopes beside him and had headed down the walk. No thank you. No good-bye. He had glanced back towards the vampire once, his eyes were full of suspicion and confusion, but Spike knew that there was some gratitude there too.

****

Xander wasn't used to getting much comfort. In his childhood he had always turned to Willow. She was the only one who could hold him, sooth him. But it was different now. He was supposed to be a "man". He couldn't cry in front of anyone, he was required by society to deal with his problems inside his head in a manly fashion. Sure, there were loopholes in this rule that said he could allow his lover to see him weak, but Anya? Yeah like that was happening. She thought that sex was the answer to everything. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing but there needed to be something else there. Something that Xander knew he needed, and it was missing to a woeful extent. So naturally, when Spike had laid his cool hand on his shoulder, Xander had immediately balked. Well, ran if you wanted to be specific. He knew from experience that Spike couldn't possibly mean well, it wasn't in his nature or something. Right now though, he had way too much on his plate to worry about what Spike was planning now. He had a demanding job, a demanding girlfriend and now, extra patrolling and researching hours because Buffy wasn't in the emotional condition to do it herself. Not that he could blame her for it, but it was definitely taking a toll on him. In short, Xander had no time to go chasing Spike around asking what blackmail would keep him silent. If the deadboy of the bleached variety was going to get off on telling everyone about his crying episode then fine, at least fangless would be getting off somehow. He probably needed it.

Now Xander was throwing on some old clothes and heading out to patrol with the rest of the scoobys. Hopefully Riley would be kind enough to show this time, lest they all get their asses kicked. He wasn't used to having fresh bruises every night. Not since the summer that Buffy had left them to fend for themselves. They hadn't been quite so sad back then. Maybe they were getting lazy with Buffy always there to fight for them.

*****

‘Why do I want him? Why do I bloody want him?'

Spike paced back and forth in front of the crypt entrance, sure that if he left he would make a beeline for Xander's new apartment. It hadn't been hard to find. So far he had been able to keep away from it. The last thing he needed now was to waste his night staring at that bedroom window that was just too small, wondering what was going on in there, if the demon was on him or if it was one of those rare nights when his only company was his right hand.

Why did he want Xander of all people? He couldn't understand it. The Slayer was an annoying bint but she was definitely shaggable, not to mention those "muscles he'd never even dreamed of" which would be an added bonus. He would want to shag her if he didn't have to listen to her talk, the chances of that were dim though. And even *Harmony* was less annoying then that bitch.

Alright so not Buffy, but even the demon fuck-toy would make more sense as a mate for him. She could accept his ruthlessness and match it with her own. And Hell, if there was ever a girl who wouldn't use the headache excuse... But she was needy, and not in a cute Xanpet way. She was more high-maintenance than *Darla* and Hell, if the product is not worth the maintenance then you *don't* maintain it!

Then there was Red, who he would bite in a heartbeat and he'd even told her as much. She was clever and sweet, but she pitied him. And the last thing that he could stand would be looking down into a pair of caring eyes that *pitied* him. Maybe that in itself was why Xander appealed to him. The brat had the sense not to pity him. He knew that if Spike got the chip out they would all be on the breakfast menu in a matter of seconds. Spike remembered the first night he'd spent at Xander's house. Though he had been roaming free around Giles' place because the idiot Watcher though he was harmless, Xander insisted on tying him up. He still had the sense to fear him though right now he had no reason to. And even though Spike had acted so pissed about the whole thing, the truth was that he took it as a compliment. That night the only thing Xander would have had to worry about had he let Spike loose was the vampire crawling into his bed beside him, not that Spike would *ever* admit that to anyone. Also, Xander really needed someone like Spike. Xander wasn't a strong person. He had his moments, but when the world came crashing down he needed someone who would hold him, not shag his brains out. He needed comfort, and how the fuck was Anya giving that to him? There was only one thing she was giving him and pretty soon that wasn't going to be enough. And fuck, Spike knew about comfort. He hadn't spent more than a hundred years with someone who wasn't right in the head using her to get his rocks off. He'd even brought her to Sunnyhell to get well. Had never even thought of leaving her. And look how wonderfully that had turned out.

Finally Spike stormed out of the crypt, having been unable to come up with an acceptable alternative obsession that made more sense then the whelp. But he still wasn't going to go and hang around a deserted apartment. No, he was going to find a pack of demons and take out his aggression on them. Then he could return having blown off some steam and take out certain other aggressions on a bitch that went by the name of Harmony. And he was not even going to *think* about what had happened that morning. Oh bugger he was.

Spike had returned to his crypt after Xander had left, wondering what the Hell had upset the boy so much. He couldn't come up with anything. His relationship with Anya was still blazing away and it would have surprised the vampire greatly if Xander would really cry over her. He found himself desperately wanting to hold the boy and wishing that he had done so the night before. Eventually he had grabbed his blanket and ventured out through the sunlight to the Harris residence. He had assumed that no one would be home and he hoped to find some clue about Xander's unhappiness. What he had found was...nothing. Bloody fucking nothing! The basement had been completely cleared, nothing was left except for the stripped sofa-bed. His undead heart lurched, Xander was gone and he had no idea where. Miserably, he lay down on the bed and tried to breathe in the scent Xander had left behind. He missed the sound of the door opening upstairs.

"What are you doing in here?" came the irritated voice.

Spike shot up in the bed. "Me, I was uh...what are you doing here?"

"Picking some things up for Xander," the ex-demon crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the vampire. "He's going to kill you when he finds out you were here!"

"Yeah," Spike scoffed, hopping off the bed, "I'd like to see the whelp try?"

"Were you sleeping on Xander's bed?" Anya demanded in a slightly disturbed voice.

"Uh...yeah well, I came to see if I'd left any bloodbags here and I got tired. What of it?"

Anya rolled her eyes. "Come on, I guess it's my duty as a good girlfriend to kick you out."

"Where did the brat go anyhow?" Spike asked, trying unsuccessfully to sound nonchalant as he followed Anya upstairs.

"He's got a new apartment!" she almost squealed. "It's so big and nice. We've still got two rooms left to have sex in before it's all christened!"

Spike snorted and muttered, "Enjoy it while it lasts."

"What? While what lasts?"

"While Xander keeps you up as his shag-toy, that's what!"

Anya paused. "Why wouldn't he want a shag-toy?"

"Well luv, let me tell you this way. Ever noticed ‘ow your pet stares at soldier-boys ass when you're not looking. Wait, that's right, you're not looking. Ummm remember how hard Xander was when Angel grabbed him by the neck and offered him to me? Wait, you weren't there that time either."

Anya looked at him septically. "Xander's not gay."

Spike smirked at her. "Shows what you know. Did he ever tell you how he offered me his neck?"

Anya just raised her eyebrows.

"Yep that's right. Told me he was moist and delicious."

She shook her head. "Xander only has eyes for me. And the occasional play-boy model. Besides, even if he did like guys too, he hates you."

"Kay. How ‘bout this one? The loverwiccas are perfectly capable of doing a de-invite spell on houses. Keep out specific guests. Ever asked yourself why your mutt's never got them to take my name off the guest list?"

"Cause you're harmless," Anya said uncertainly.

"Yeah, right, takes one to know one I suppose," he smirked. Anya pouted slightly. "Not that he doesn't *like* you pet but face it, he's got a type and you're not it."

"You don't know him," she protested. Spike just shrugged. "I'm going to go talk to him. I'm going to tell him he's not gay!"

Spike laughed as the ex-demon stormed out the door. "You do that pet!"

*****
Part 2:

After this strange encounter Spike's mirth faded and he headed to the kitchen, still assuming that no one was home. He searched through the scraps of paper lying on the kitchen counter. Xander *must* have left a number or an address for his folks! What kind of son was he? Eventually after sifting through a pile of recipes and notes Spike finally came across a small scrap of paper upon which someone can scrawled a number and an address. He didn't have time to wonder why the paper was so carefully tucked away instead of being taped on the fridge or something because right at that moment a woman that Spike recognized to be Xander's mother entered the room carrying a basket full of laundry.

"Anya! Are you here yet?" she yelled at the door before turning and noticing Spike. "Oh hello, are you that boy who was staying with Xander in the basement."

Spike quickly pocketed the address. "Yup, that's me luv! Just came by to..." He trailed off, not being able to think of a legitimate reason for him to come by his "friend's" deserted house.

"Anya couldn't come so you volunteered to do it?" Xander's mother asked without warning.

Spike glanced around the room, searching for some sign of what he should answer to this. "Yesss..?"

"Oh good," the woman was visibly relieved. "Here," she took a pile of laundry from the top of the basket and handed it to a very confused vampire. "These were still in the wash when he left, I thought I should get them to him."

"Right," Spike said hesitantly.

"Thanks so much!" she said cheerfully, and without another glance headed off into another room. She was just happy that she's manage to give the laundry to someone before her husband could find it and rip it apart.

Spike glanced around the door to make sure that the woman was actually gone. Shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of the situation he grabbed his blanket and held it with his right hand while cradling the clothes in his left and went out into the sunlight.

Back at the crypt he sorted through the clothes. There was a T-shirt and a few pairs of boxers. Xander had probably been trying to keep his laundry to a minimum, knowing that he was planning on making an exit. The only question in Spike's mind was why the boy had been so hasty in his departure.

Feeling slightly sick with himself but not being able to hold back, Spike had brought a pair a boxers to his face an inhaled. He sighed to himself. Of course they held no hint of Xander's scent if they had just been washed. He ran his fingers over the cotton and brooded. ‘I'm one sodding step away from my bleedin' sire!'

That night he had headed to Xander's apartment. He was halfway up the stairs to the second floor before he realized that he couldn't get into it. Disgusted and beaten, he had resorted to keeping watch over the window until dawn.

But he wasn't going to act like that tonight! No way! He was the Big Bad goddammit, and he was out to rustle up some trouble! The vampire strode confidently through the graveyard, daring any demon to try to jump him. There was going to be *no* thinking of Xander Harris tonight!

"Wills! Look out!"

Bloody Hell!

Spike leapt behind a gravestone just in time to avoid being seen. The sight that greeted his eyes was Xander being picked up and thrown against a wall by a hungry looking vampire. Willow aimed a stake at the demon's back but before she could strike, the vampire spun and knocked it out of her hand and then pushed her to the ground, forgetting about Xander. The boy delivered a hard kick to the vampire's spine and it toppled over onto Willow howling with rage.

"Uh oh," Spike heard Xander mutter softly as the furious vampire advanced on him again. Willow still lay on the ground, shaking her head to regain her bearings. Quick as lightening, Spike reached out from behind the tombstone and grabbed Willow's abandoned stake. He only had one shot, he aimed and threw the stake full force at the vampire's back. The demon burst into a cloud of dust seconds before its fangs would have pierced Xander's neck.

Xander and Willow both rose, stakes in hand, smiling at each other. From their parallel positions it looks to each of them as if it had been the other who had staked the vampire.

"Well, that's the last of them," Xander said wearily.

"I got two!" Willow exclaimed.

"Willow the Vampire Slayer!" Xander said, putting her arm around her shoulders and leading her away. "It would really be nice if Riley would show up next time, unlike you I'm not tough when it comes to the vamps. I'd rather just scream like a woman and run the other way."

Willow giggled. "Not me, nope suree! I laugh in the face of danger!"

Spike watched as they walked away, Willow chattering about her new-found slaying skills. The vampire felt a pain in his chest as the boy retreated, looking a bit worse for wear. Couldn't anyone see that he needed to be protected? Now the sodding Slayer wasn't even there to do it. Bitch.

"I'll protect you pet, with me around you have nothing to fear," he growled to himself. "Nothing to fear at all."

Spike turned and walked in the opposite direction from the Slayerettes, adrenaline fulled by the closeness he felt to the boy. He had saved Xander's life. That was something he had never done for a mortal without an ulterior motive. That was a frightening step to take and he had done it without thinking.

He felt the sudden need for something else. Something *more* than a couple of pairs of boxers. Something that carried Xander in it no matter what it smelled like. He headed to the only place he could think of. The thought nauseated him, but at least he could be fairly certain he wouldn't run into Xander again there. At least not in the middle of the night.

Spike quietly opened the door to the Summers residence, making sure not to let it creak. He wasn't really sure what he was looking for as he padded down the front hall. The house reeked of the Slayer's flowery perfume, it hung in the air like a cloud of dust. Through the garden though, there was a faint trace of Xander. He clung to that as he continued through the house. He heard water running in the kitchen and veered away from it. He swore silently to himself. How was he going to explain this if he was caught? Slutty was hanging onto sanity by a thread and he didn't want to be the one to push her over while he was neutered.

He waited in the dark living room, pondering how to get out of the house without having to go by the kitchen again when there was a loud shriek from upstairs.

"Buffy!"

And then there were footsteps thundering upwards. Not knowing what was going on and not caring as long as it gave him a chance to run he broke for the front door. He was almost though the front hall when something on the side-table made him screech to a halt. It was a picture of Xander, Buffy and Willow taken a few years ago. Red had long hair and Xander was thinner and younger looking but still delectable as usual. He glanced around quickly, there were sounds of a struggle coming from the kitchen but no movement near him. He grabbed the frame and smashed the glass with a punch and then removed the picture carefully. He paused, looking at it again and then ran his thumb over the boy's face. He smiled and turned towards the door.

"Spike, what the Hell are you doing in my house?!"

The screech stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Uh.." he stalled, trying to slip the stolen picture into his pocked as he turned to face the Slayer. "Right then you caught me. Your basement's full of....junk and me being in need of.....junk..."

"You were stealing?" She was standing with her arms crossed and a bloodied kitchen knife in her hand, looking as no-nonsense as ever.

"Well yeah, can't exactly work the counter at burger barn can I?" he was still trying to nonchalantly shove the picture into his pocket.

"Wait," she interrupted him, lunging forward and grabbing his arm. "Is that a picture of me?"

Oh God!

"No! It's-"

"Oh my God Spike, you're stealing a picture of me?"

The vampire was left with his mouth hanging open, not knowing what to reply. Buffy eyes softened suddenly and she glanced around. Her expression became hard to read.

"I....hang on."

Buffy headed off into another room leaving Spike standing in the front hall, completely confused. She returned moments later with a fistful of pictures. Oh bloody Hell.

"You can take some more if you want," she said shyly, extended the pile to him.

"Now look Slayer-" Spike started furiously, but then he noticed the top picture. It was a more recent one with the whole gang. Xander was wearing a tight blue T-Shirt and Khakis. Spike sighed to himself. "Give me that," he said grabbing the pile.

Spike sifted through the snapshots as Buffy continued to look on with a nervous, flattered expression on her face.

Aside from the top photo there weren't any others that interested the vampire. Apparently Slutty hadn't been spending enough time with her delectable friend to have a good store of pictures. Buffy in her room, Buffy standing by the water, Buffy and her Mom, no, no, no. He paused as he came to a photo of Buffy and Willow. Red was wearing an uncharacteristically revealing tank top-no stay focused! Spike ordered himself and continued on.

"Oh that one was Willow and I on the first day back at University," Buffy said, referring to the last picture Spike had discarded. She continued on with a nervous story, not seeming to notice that Spike had put said picture in the ‘no' pile. Finally he neared the end, growling to himself at this waste of time which had made him look like the Slayer's lapdog. He stopped as he reached the last picture. It was just Xander for once. He was stretching up to catch a frisbee thrown by someone in the distance. He was wearing a wife-beater and the muscles in his back were flexed in effort. It was beautiful.

"You can barely see me in that one," the Slayer protested, interrupting his reverie.

He shoved the no pile back at her and turned to go without replying.

"Don't say thank you or anything!" she yelled at him.

He looked back over his shoulder and smirked. "Thank you Slutty, I've got lots more burning material now!" And with that he slammed the door in her face and hurried off, desperately hoping that he hadn't given her any upsetting ideas.

As the sun rose, Spike was sitting in his crypt gazing at the three pictures which now stood on his bedside table, he had put them in cheap Walmart frames. It was humiliating for him to enter that store and actually have to *pay* for things. Not even being able kill the pimply teenager who had rudely demanded if that was all, was just adding insult to injury. It was worth it though. Now every time he rolled over he would be able to gaze into the face of his pet. At the thought his cock started to harden and his rubbed himself gently through the denim of his dark jeans. God he wished Xander would just walk through the door and drop to his knees....

"Spikey!" Came the sing-song voice as the door slammed.

Heh, that'll do.

Spike quickly opened the table drawer and swept the pictures into it.

"Harm!" she came into the room licking her lips as he leered at her. "Honey, I've been waiting for you all night."

End