“So… tell me again where the slayer is?” Spike snarls between angry drags from his cigarette.

 

“God, Spike. I thought Xander was slow but you are even… “ Xander flinches slightly but only Spike sees it. Willow frowns for a second then goes on with her tirade as if speaking to a nearly deaf child: “Buffy. Is. In. L.A. With. Dawn. Visiting. Their. Father.”

 

“Yes, I did get that. Willooow.” He drags out her name in mockery. “But I want to know why!” He yells a bit too loudly.

 

“Because… because he is their father?” Xander chips in and Willow looks at him, forehead scrunched up. “I really don’t think that's the reason for their visit.” She finally says.

 

“Anyway, interesting bloke this father is… nothing in mind but shagging the … DUCK!” Spike shoves Willow out of the way to get to “Huh… shagging the duck?” Xander.

 

The next moment the two boys are on the ground in a tangle of limbs, Spike’s elbows on either side of Xander’s head and his hips resting between Xander’s spread thighs, Xander’s arms around his waist.

 

Brown eyes stare up into midnight blue ones which are twinkling with mischievous laughter.

 

“Eeep?”

 

“Wish I had time right now pet.” Spike grins, gives Xander a loud wet peck on the forehead and is back up on his feet in the next moment. He launches himself into the fight against… erm… around ten fledglings with a joyous yell. Xander just stares after him. What the hell just happened?

 

Willow’s scream for help rips Xander from his reverie and he is up on his feet and running over to her. A vampire attempts to drag her away but Xander manages, after a bit of struggle, to dust him. Of course, Willow’s immobility spell helped.

 

He looks over to Spike who fights against seven fledglings at once. They are teaming up in pairs now, systematically attacking him from at least two different sides and the Master vampire struggles to keep them at bay.

 

Another vamp falls to dust but with him also goes Spike’s current stake. When the blond grabs for another tucked in the waistband of his jeans in the small of his back, he exposes his chest and one of the vamp gets a kick in that makes Spike double over, going down on his knees screaming like a wounded animal.

 

“Wills, it’s a trap, they only want Spike. Fuck, run!” He calls to her and shoves her away.

 

“And what are you going to do?” She cries out, tears making her eyes glisten like a dark green lake in the midday sun. “I…” Xander’s subconciousness, his white knight, fights against the flight instinct, encourages Xander to help his injured … comrade.

 

His heart starts to pound even faster, his hands getting sweaty as always when he knows he is close to making a right, but pretty dumb decision.

 

“I’ll help him.” He says gravely and takes a step in Spike’s direction but Willow clutches onto his arm.

 

“Wait!” She screams and her eyes lose focus before they fade to black. The previously inviting green sea after sunset, suddenly dangerous and bottomless.

 

Spike’s scream of frustrated rage makes Xander shudder down to his bones or maybe it’s Willow, draining the energy from his body, making him feel cold inside.

 

There is a loud slapping sound and what can only be categorized as a whoosh, the flash of golden light and then… eerie silence.

 

Xander turns around expecting to see the blond vamp, smirking and lightning a cigarette in an after battle habit, but there is no Spike.

There is nothing but slowly fading clouds of dust and something on the ground that reflects the moonlight. Xander walks over there, dreading what he might find, or more, might not find with every step until… yes, the buckle of Spike’s belt, silver alight.

 

Xander kneels down and grabs for the clothes, duster, jeans, t-shirt, button-up shirt, boots… everything’s there but no Spike.

 

The loss he feels is unexpected but it feels kinda right. Spike was their … comrade, fighting on their side even if his motives weren’t from the depth of his soul.. erm.., weren’t to do good just because it was good to do good but… anyway.

 

“Scoobies got you in the end, hm?” He whispers to the dust on the satin shirt. “But I never thought it would be Willow finishing you off.”

 

“Oh god… Xander… I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to … I really didn’t want this to happen… I mean…”

 

“It’s … Wills, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” But you won’t get my absolution for what you did. He thinks grumpily.

 

“I just wanted them to explode, not… him! Xaaander…”

 

“I want to go home.” The brunette says and stands up, taking all the clothes with him.

 

Half an hour and listening to several redundant excuses later, he is in his basement. The packed duffel bag waits against the bed, as it has for days now, tomorrow night he would – finally - sleep in his own first apartment.

 

He lays Spike’s clothes down on the recliner he used to tie the vamp to when he was newly chipped. Heavily he slumps down on the edge of the bed, staring at said recliner, remembering how Spike bitched about it…

 

“Bloody hell!”

 

Huh? Xander shoots straight up the bed, frantically looking around to find out where the voice came from.

 

“Spike?” He whispers and in his head he mocks himself… I can hear dusted vampires.

 

“The last time I checked I would have said yes but right now I’m not so sure, mate.” He hears the tiny voice again, so low but unmistakeably Spike.

 

“Here whelp, on the bloody bondage chair!” Xander jerks around, staring at the chair in horror.

 

“Oh my god!” Xander squeals and gets down on all fours, crawling over to the chair.

 

“What the bloody hell happened?” Spike yells, a high pitched, desperate tone in his voice.

 

“I… oh god… Spike… damn, you’re cute!” Xander grins and then realizing what he said he blushes a pretty dark shade of red.

 

“No, I am not cute! I am …”

 

“About three inches tall.” Xander says in awe.

 

Spike groans in despair, drags the edge of the duster’s collar tighter around himself in an attempt to either hide or protect his tiny frame.

 

“… tell me I’m dreaming Harris… please, I beg of you!”

Slumped in defeat, shivering from shock, if that is possible for a vampire, Spike sits and looks up at Xander, as if the boy had all the answers to his questions. Xander is still staring at the little Vamp in awe.

 

“Wow.” He says at last. “You’re not dead.”

“Wish I were though. Well, technically I am, but final death would be better than this.” He shrugs his tiny shoulders in a helpless gesture. The boy feels a sudden pang in his heart at Spike’s admission. It sounded so honest and he doesn’t doubt the vamp means it.

 

“Come on…” Biting his tongue, he catches himself just before letting a casual insult slip from his lips. “Spike. It’s only for a while.” He frowns inwardly at his white knight, who encourages him to say something reassuring. “Erm… I bet Willow can fix this and if she can’t, Giles will…” He trails off, realizing how much doubt underlies his words.

“Red did this?” Spike fakes surprise, little scarred eyebrow cocked.

“She just wanted to…”

“The hell she just! You and I, we both know there is something coming up on the horizon of her future and it’s not the bloody sun.” He spits, and Xander can’t help but nod. Yeah, Willow has gotten kinda overboard since…

 

“Be a mate and give me something to cover up?” Spike interrupts his way of thinking and Xander nods, getting to his feet. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get you something… erm… a handkerchief?” Xander holds up the clean but wrinkled piece of white fabric.

“Anything will do right now.” Spike murmurs uninterestedly and takes it from the large, slightly unsteady hand that holds it out for him. He struggles with the handkerchief, which for him is as big as a 7 by 7 feet blanket. Xander looks away from the expression on Spike’s face. Big bad is near tears.

 

Finally Spike is tucked into it safely. “Better?” Xander asks and flinches, waiting for the snarky answer. To his surprise Spike’s only reply is “Yes.”

Spike turns away, he doesn’t want to see the look of pity in the youth’s eyes.

 

On Spike’s back there is a large red stain; blood is seeping through the handkerchief.

“You’re injured, Spike.” Xander states, voice hoarse, from seeing the red stain spreading further.

“’S nothing.” Spike shivers and it’s the last straw for Xander, he has to do something. This indifferent, tame Spike makes his skin crawl. It doesn’t feel right.

“I don’t think so.” He says, and lowers his hand down to the chair directly in front of the three inch Spike. “You up for a lift to the kitchen?” He says, and grins at the frowning blond. “Come on Spike, get on my hand. I won’t let you fall. I promise.” Words uttered without thought but they both get the honest meaning behind them. This is Xander helping and comforting Spike. And it feels good – to both of them.

 

Spike still looks suspicious, but nevertheless, climbs on the big calloused hand.

“OH!” Spike exclaims and Xander looks down at the blond. He looks like he took a spin in the tumbler, the hair tousled and his skin smeared with dust, the wrinkled white handkerchief now with red stains on his side where the blood has already made its way around, but over all that now: A look of pure bliss on Spike’s face.

“What ‘Oh’?” Xander asks, smiling because Spike is. He lifts his hand up, carefully cupping it around his tiny weight, using his other hand to make it even safer for Spike.

“This is – bloody hell – like a big, pulsing electric blanket! All warm and soft and…” He stops himself, ashamed by his poncy eruption about a warm hand. The youth holding the small vampire in his hand, chuckles a bit, making Spike bounce up and down on his palm, against his efforts to keep his hands still. “It’s okay, Spike. I’m glad that not everything of this state you are in is bad.” And where did that come from? “I think we’d better get some blood in you, so you can heal before you get blood stains on your … electric blanket.”

 

Slowly Xander makes his way over to the kitchen. “Hope you don’t get travel sick.” Xander jokes and Spike laughs for the first time, despite the spell and his injury. “I won’t puke on you, you git!” He replies and looks up into Xander’s concentrated face, the tip of the youth’s tongue poking out through his lips.

 

“So, here we are.” Xander says finally and lets the back of his hand rest on the counter so Spike can climb down, which he does, even if he only reluctantly leaves the surrounding warmth. Xander gets out a very sharp, pointy knife and a blood bag, lays both on the counter while he searches for a cup on the shelf. Fascinated, Spike stares at the blood bag, nearly as high as he is himself. Xander sets the cup down besides Spike, comparing their height and finding the vampire isn’t even able to look over the rim without effort.

 

“Erm…”

“Can I pour the blood into a bowl and swim in it?” Spike asks, eyes as big as… well saucers his size.

“Erm…”

“Always wanted to swim in blood!” Spike says dreamily.

“Spike… it’s pig’s blood.” The blond’s face contorts into a mask of distaste. “Ah yes. Right. Never dreamed of swimming in pig’s blood.” The hopeless expression slips back into his eyes and Xander takes the knife.

“Tell you what Spike… you only need a tiny amount of blood. Only a droplet or two and the bag is way too big and it would all go to waste and … ouch.” Spike jerks around just in time to see Xander put the knife back on the counter and then his nose is filled with the smell of fresh human blood. Involuntarily, Spike moans.

 

Xander holds out his ring finger, a tiny droplet of blood welling up from where he pierced himself with the pointy knife tip. “I swear you are drooling.” He says smiling and looks how Spike slowly comes forward. “You won't pull back, will you? You’re not teasing, right? It’s all for me?” Tiny blue eyes look up, surprise, mistrust and want mirrored clearly.

 

Xander wants to point out that he wouldn't go to all this trouble, just to tease the bleached blond, wants to joke how Spike would burst before he himself would even feel dizzy from blood loss. But he doesn't.

 

"You want me to … pour it into … something?" Spike looks up, slightly bouncy from excitement, despite his injury, game face to the fore that just looks cute now it's all so small and not frightening at all. Of course, Xander wouldn't say that out loud.. Thoughtfully – a look that really doesn't go with the game face – little Spike nods and looks around searchingly. Finally Xander produces a spoon from one of the drawers and puts it down on the counter top. He lets the two big droplets of blood drip onto it before sticking the finger in his own mouth and isn't that just kinda strange? Spike, in the meantime, is on his knees, his hands cupped, he dips them into the ruby fluid and up to his mouth where he greedily slurps it up.

 

Xander watches the tiny figure closely, the look of pure bliss on the blood-smeared face, blood-smeared hands and arms up to the elbows, blood stains that are not getting bigger anymore on the make-shift tunic. Eventually, when the spoon is all shiny again, Spike staggers to his feet, swaying as if drunk and looks up at Xander, eyes content, like a summer sky blue. "Ta, m…" Mate, Xander guesses Spike wanted to say but lets out a quick burp instead that makes the youth chuckle and Spike smiles nearly … shyly?

 

"Would give a virgin for a hot long soak in a tub." Spike sighs sleepily and Xander frowns just for a second before he raids the cupboards again, getting out a small oval lasagne dish, the rim about an inch high.

"You think this'll do?" Xander asks holding it out for Spike's inspection. The blond’s eyes light up. "Sure, yes that would be…" Just in time he catches himself again from showing a bit too much enthusiasm than would be good for his big bad reputation. "…good."

 

Without another word, Xander turns on the water and waits for it to warm, testing it with the inside of his elbow for the right temperature, then filling the dish. He sets it down and grabs the two empty packs of cornflakes, sets them up so Spike will be shielded from any curious looks, giving the little big bad a bit of privacy.

 

Spike has watched what Xander's doing with half narrowed eyes, not sure what surprises Xander has for him next. To show he cares for the not-so-big-bad is enough for Xander Harris, passionate vampire hater, in one day and it already confuses the hell out of Spike's brain. While he thinks about the unexpected changes in the boy, staring at the make-shift bath tub, he hasn't even realized that Xander has gone to the bathroom and came back with a bar of soap and a dry washcloth as a towel substitute. "Think this'll do best," Xander says and sets the soap down beside the lasagne dish. "You can take as much as you like from it and we don't risk you choking on bubbles." The 'we' Xander used rings loud in both their ears and Spike nods curtly once, before he disappears behind the cornflake packets. Seconds later, the splatter of water and a deep contented sigh can be heard. Xander grins to himself. Mission accomplished. Huh? Which mission?

 

Twenty minutes later, Xander has set up the highest drawer of his bedside cupboard as a make-shift-crypt for Spike with the help of a small dark blue towel and several handkerchiefs, partly folded as pillows, some as blankets. He also made himself ready for bed, slipping on a comfortable t-shirt and boxers. He finds Spike, tucked into the washcloth, sitting on the edge of the counter, legs hanging down, staring down at the floor with a far away expression on his face. To Xander he looks like someone about to commit suicide, sitting on the edge of a high building, getting up the courage to jump.

 

"Will it kill you?" He asks carefully, so as not to startle the vamp, even though he must have heard Xander like a human hears an elephant storming towards him.

"Don't think so." Comes the mumbled reply. "But it'll hurt a lot." Spike chuckles. "Was waiting for you to give me a lift." He says, cocking his eyebrow in a suggestive manner, to lessen the effect of him needing to ask for help.

"Well, come on then. Time for good little vamps to go to bed!" Xander jokes and regrets it as soon as he hears Spike growl.

 

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" He relents. "It's just a saying. I was not making fun of you." No, Xander really wasn't. He would never make fun of someone for something they are not responsible for. He knows how much that hurts, hearing others joke about something you aren't able to change. Like your drunken parents. Or your clothes, when you don't have money for new ones.

 

Spike has already climbed onto his hand again, so he makes his way over to the bed, setting the vamp gently down in the drawer. Spike wonders again what happened to the Harris he knew, when he takes in the nearly lovingly set up  sleeping arrangements.

 

"I'll push the drawer nearly closed, so you can feel…" safe, he wanted to say but instead continues. "…on your own. If you need anything, wake me." I'm just here, beside you. He clamps his mouth shut and tells his white knight to shut up too, Spike is not the damsel in distress; he is a shrunken vamp for god's sake! He climbs in the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders, turns his back to Spike.

 

Some seconds later: "Harris?"

"Mhm."

"Thanks… mate. I… I am in your debt."

"Night Spike."

"Yes, right."

Barely four hours later Spike wakes, with a start. Scared, he presses himself deeper into his covers and into a corner of the unfamiliar room. He finds himself naked, which isn’t unusual for him when in bed, but he can’t see his duster and the white blankets remind him of the initiative. He clamps his mouth shut to stop himself from screaming, holds his hands over his ears to block out the penetrating rattling above him.

 

When the alarm clock starts to let out its furious cry, Xander can’t believe it. He feels as if he hasn’t slept at all. Groaning, Xander turns over and grabs the angry clock which is rattling and jumping all over the surface of the bedside cupboard, vibrating from the loud ringing sound emitting from it.

Eventually he turns it off.

Blessed silence.

 

The old-fashioned alarm clock is the loudest Xander could find, as he always has problems waking up in the morning after the late night patrols. Not everybody has slayer or vampire constitution.

Vampire!

He sits upright suddenly in the bed, looking at the nearly closed drawer.

God. Spike!

 

Carefully, he knocks on the drawer. “Spike? It’s Xander. Are you okay? I forgot to tell you about my alarm clock. Sorry.” There is no answer but Xander doubts Spike is still asleep after the alarm went off. He must be scared.

 

“I’ll open the drawer now. Alright?” Again there is no answer so Xander just pulls the drawer slowly open.

 

The room around Spike starts to move, the ceiling sliding back slowly, the wood making a gnashing sound that makes him shudder.

 

“Hey Spike, it’s Xander.” The youth says again, voice low and gentle. And when Spike sees the oversized finger tip, his memory of the last night comes crashing back to him. Brown caring eyes look at the tiny figure intently and Spike groans in despair.

“It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

 

Sadly, Xander shakes his head, indicating that this is the reality, that Spike really was the victim of a bad spell that made him 3 inches tall.

 

“You okay as far as…” Spike nods and slumps back down, hugging the handkerchiefs around him.

 

“I’ll go shower, back in a few. I still have to go to work.” With that Xander goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving the vamp alone in his misery. For just a moment Spike considers his possible day time activities in this …state he is in. No. He wouldn’t stay here, couldn’t be alone. Who knows what may happen to him if the witch or the watcher’d come to get him? He looks at one of his white blankets thoughtfully then rips into the fabric.

 

Under the shower Xander considers what to do with Spike. He dreads to take the vamp with him to his work but also he can’t leave him here on his own. Wills has a key to his apartment and if she came by and found MiniSpike she could be tempted to try all kinds of stuff to… oh god, does he really think that badly of good old Wills?

 

Sadly, he has to admit to himself that yes, he does and that Spike is right with his assumption that something is coming and it won’t be the nice kind of coming for sure.

In the end, he eventually says to himself, Spike can still decide for himself. We’ll see what he says.

 

Out of the shower and dressed, back in his bed-/living-room/kitchen, still rubbing at his hair with a yellow towel to dry it, he stops short. Spike stands on the bedside table, a handkerchief around him like…

 

“Are you going for Arabic rich man or religious sacrifice?” Spike’s lips quirk up.

 

“Usually I am the one doing the sacrificing and I don’t have the turban, do I?”

 

Xander goes over and takes one of the little torn off pieces of fabric. “Hm… could make you one! Just look over there and tilt your head…”

 

“Oh no mate! Not the hair! Never the hair!” Spike yells in mock-shocked voice.

 

“Thought Deadboy was the one oh-so-sensible about the sticky things on his head.”

 

“Comes with the … “ Heritage. Spike nearly says, but stops himself just in time. “… poofiness.” He concludes lamely.

 

“Yeah, right.” Xander frowns, thinking about his job again and what Spike will think of him after he knows what Xander does. Not that Xander cares about Spike’s opinion about his life or job or whatever. And whether it’s just because Spike is the only non-oestrogen laden …person in Xander’s proximity.

 

Well, there is Giles but Xander doubts Giles has room for oestrogen or testosterone when he is saturated by all his British stuffiness and his staid watcher-esque behaviour and Ripper really isn’t friend-material.

 

"Xander? Is there any chance you could…um, what I mean is, I don't want to be…" Spike takes a deep breath and tries again. "Would you allow me to accompany you on your lengthy, but necessary, sojourn to the place of your employ, thus enabling me to make use of such facilities, as may be needed, without being placed in the ignominious position of having to ask for.." Spike trails off when he sees the look of shock on the youth’s face. “Wot?”

 

“You did this thing…”

 

“Thing?”

 

“Called me by my name.”

 

“So?”

 

“And I didn’t understand one word of what you said.”

 

“Erm…I was asking if you..”

 

“Shit.. I am late for work!” He suddenly exclaims after he takes a look at the alarm clock just behind Spike.

 

“Harris, I need you to…”

 

“Spike…” Xander searches through Spike’s duster until he finds what he searches for: the pack of cigarettes.

 

“You really think now is the moment to start smoking?”

 

“HUH?” Xander takes out the cigarettes and stuffs them back in the duster pocket, he lays the pack down besides Spike and then gets Spike’s clothes together in another duffel bag, grabs them and slings them around his shoulders onto his back. He hurries to make a quick clean up of the bathroom and living room/kitchen area and then stands before Spike. “Get into the pack.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Wide, blue eyes stare in utter disbelief at Xander.

 

“I am not coming back here and I have to take you with me and I don’t want to crush you, so you have to get into the pack that offers at least some protection and I’ll put it into my shirt pocket.” Xander indicates his chest, just over his heart.

 

“You’ll take me with you?”

 

“If you get into that pack in the next three seconds: yes. Otherwise: no.”

 

“Bossy git!” Spike hisses and climbs into the pack, which Xander takes and puts, as promised, in his chest pocket. “Ready?” The youth asks, when Spike pushes open the lid of the cig pack so he can see where they are going.

 

“Yep. Off we go.” And Spike grins, then shuts the lid again to keep himself safe from the rays of the barely rising sun. “Not so stupid this boy.” He murmurs to himself, before he settles down on the bottom of the pack and lets himself be lulled to sleep by the boy’s movements and his slightly faster than usual, but regular, heartbeat.

 

Xander is scared and excited at the same time, none of the scoobies know about his job or that he’s going to move. It’s not that Xander wouldn’t tell them. They just didn’t show any interest and he is still disappointed in them. At least Wills could have asked once in a while how he is doing. They are too stressed by their own life. College and all. He understands. Really. It just… well yes, kinda hurts.

 

The bleached blond may find it kinda comfortable right now but as soon as he is restored to his old self he’ll be back to his bad ass attitude and Xander can already hear the snarky comments and the mocking laughter. Whatever. Doesn’t mean a thing to him. And his white knight insists on helping the Minivamp… just can’t help it.

 

The journey to work takes him about half an hour. It’s near the docks but not quite in the docks district. Close to the city’s core but not quite in the center. As usual, he stops for a second before he enters the big grey building, strains his ears for unusual voices or signs of a fight, he looks up to the emergency bulb and finds it not lit up, meaning everything should be alright. So he steps inside.

 

“You stink of vampire, toyboy. Got yourself turned have you?” Broum has him by the throat, nearly lifting him off his feet, his back to the door. Spike is awakened quickly by the suddenly increasing heartbeat. It pounds like it wants to beat its way out of Xander’s chest and the boy reeks of shock and confusion, and just a bit of fear.

 

“Let me go, I have not been turned! I came from out there!” Xander indicates the sidewalk, on which, the sun shines down with all the power of her early morning rays.

 

Fuck, Xander knows, has always known there was something off about Broum and his wife Garld, suspected they were demons of some kind, even if their appearance – two middle-aged average people – gives nothing away.

 

“So what, you did the nasty with one of that bunch?” Broum frowns at him.

“Didn’t think you were that…”

 

“What, so dumb as to do that? I didn’t.” Xander shoots back, on defensive mode.

 

“Actually I was going for ‘Didn’t think you were that audacious’.”

 

“Oh.” Garld chooses that moment to appear from the back of the shop, grinning widely until she comes closer to him and also smells ‘vampire’ on him.

 

“Oh boy, what did you get yourself into this time?” She asks concerned and Xander has to chuckle. These two are the parents he always wanted to have.

 

“Well since I now know that you know… I have to erm… you know I am friends with the slayer?”

 

Broum and Garld start to laugh, then Garld tugs at his arm, whispering. “Of course we know that. We are informed about your life.” She says and sniffs at him again. “Soooo, you wanna tell us why you reek like a vampire? An old one nonetheless?” She smiles warmly.

 

“Erm…” Xander makes a gesture as if writing something down and Broum nods, and goes over to his desk, getting notepad and pencil. Xander takes it, writes down a few sentences and gives it back. Broum takes it and reads it, clamps his hand over his mouth so as not to laugh out loud. Garld takes the notepad from him and reads it too. Her eyes dance with laughter, but she contains it better than her husband and makes an encouraging gesture.

 

“Well, I have a vampire with me, Willow… you know Willow?”

 

“We don’t know her but we know about her.” Garld says with a frown.

 

“Well, she did a spell and it went wrong. A … friend, the vampire, his size was decreased down to about three inches.”

 

“And where is he now?” Garld asks, getting this curious where-is-the-cutie-look. Uh oh.

 

“Erm here.” Xander points to his pocket and then looks around, searching for a place away from the eyes of potential customers and without direct sunlight.

 

“Can we use your office?” Xander asks Garld and she nods, turning and going there, the two men hot on her heels. Garld sits down on her chair and Broum takes the one in front of her desk.

 

Xander turns away from them, getting the pack out and opening the lid. Alarmed, the vampire stares at the youth in full gameface. “Spike,” Xander says, taking a deep breath before continuing. "… we're at my work place. My boss and his wife want to see you. They're demons too…" He trails off when he hears the low snickers from Broum and Garld.

 

"Can't say I like it. But don't have a choice, do I?" Spike murmured, displeased.

 

"Okay then." Xander says and turns around to the desk. He carefully sets the pack of …Spike *snicker* down and the vamp climbs out elegantly.

 

"Name's Spike." He says and tries to be as cocky as always, as nonchalant and cool as he appears when he is in his normal size. Broum takes in a ragged breath and hisses "William the Bloody" under his breath.

 

Garld just squeals as foreseen… "God, aren't you the littlest cutie?"

The male occupants of the room groan in unison.

 

"But he is cute… and little… isn't he?" Garld asks and looks from one to the other with a frown. Then, suddenly, she remembers something and pulls open a drawer and gets out… Dawn.

 

Xander's frantic head shaking doesn't even make her reconsider it. Spike growls, more out of confusion than anything else, when Garld presents Dawn to him.

 

"You have a doll looking like Dawn?" Spike exclaims, irritated.

 

"Yes! And oh my god. She fits perfectly doesn't she? Just the right size, don't you think?"

 

Spike looks at the doll more closely. "She is a bit too tall." He eventually says uncomfortably, subtly trying to look taller than he was.

 

"Oh wait I have to get the other ones!"

 

Spike's eyes widen. "The other ones?"

 

Xander's hands come up to hide his face. "Oh god."

 

Spike turns sharply. "You, whelp, will tell me immediately what is going on here!" He says, with an authority one wouldn't think he still possesses.

 

Garld comes back and then Spike is as speechless as Xander.

 

"How… I mean… I just.. and..so fast!" Xander trails off, stunned by the accuracy of the figures.

 

Broum just chuckles and relaxes back into his chair, determined to watch the scene going on.

 

"You're not doing some obscure voodoo shit are you?" Spike growls redundantly, because he already knows there is no chance of danger from these two. M'reit demons just aren't any danger as long you don't come between them and their children. And Spike hasn't seen any children, so he considers Xander and himself safe.

 

Garld laughs. "No voodoo. William." She smiles at him and holds up the doll of the watcher. "You think I've got him right?"

 

"Name's Spike!" Spike snarls, vehemently, then cocks his head, taking in the doll. "He is a bit fatter around the middle." He says, smirking and makes a step towards the doll, grabbing its waistband. "Are these anatomically correct?"

 

"Oh no!" Garld pulls the doll back out of Spike's reach.

 

"No they aren't or no I am not allowed to check?" Spike quirks.

 

"There is no need for you to check it, even if you did, it's not like you could compare and really…" Xander trails off when Spike just looks at him, an eyebrow cocked, lips in an amused smile.

 

"God, tell me you haven't seen Giles' … delicate bits!" Xander cries, holding his hands a few inches away from his ears so he can clamp them down and block out everything Spike might say next.

 

"I was chained to his bath tub, wasn't I? Haven't seen a second bathroom in old Rupe's flat." Spike bites his own lip when he revises the sentences he just said. Damn, had he really admitted to being chained to a watcher's bath tub?

 

Broum takes in a hissing breath. "Can't help saying it, but these 'friends' of yours, toyboy, sure have dubious methods." He says, an angry tone underlying his words.

 

"I.. he.. we.. it was for his own good." Xander stutters, feeling weirdly embarrassed under the disapproving stare of his boss. Spike snorts and Garld tries to chase away the uncomfortable tension between the men by showing off the other dolls.

 

"Here is Willow – the witch." She says, and presents a red haired doll that looks pretty much like Willow, but the eyes don't seem right somehow, Xander thinks. Too dark and too hard somehow, not the friendly light in them like from the Willow he has known since he was little and remembers so fondly, way more like the woman Willow is today and maybe the eyes aren't so wrong at all. Xander frowns and watches as Garld lays the Willow doll on the table and Spike kicks it.

 

"That's for making me.. little!" He kicks it again, then: "Can we have a pyre? It's not like it’s the real witch, but it’d sure be great to see her burn." He grins evilly, eyes sparkling and Xander feels oddly amused by the words, even though he knows he should feel repulsed by the idea.

 

It's kinda like when your kid learns their first bad word and yells it out loud in a family meeting – everybody laughs and even though you know you should really talk to it and tell it why it's wrong to say something like that, you can hardly suppress the smile when you do.

 

Garld pulls out a Buffy mini, a little Anya doll, even Cordelia in smaller than life size and Spike just stares and you can practically see the drool forming, with one wicked idea chasing after another.

 

"Wow, Garld – these are so great, thank you so much." Xander finally manages to say, taking the Cordelia doll in his hand and stroking back the long dark brown hair, tracing the plastic face with a soft smile that makes Spike want to puke.

 

"So, Lady, where is mine? Maybe I can use the clothes and get out of the white – it makes me sick-er." Spike looks expectantly at Garld, whose gaze darts to Xander and then to her husband.

 

Xander feels ill suddenly – he'd never thought about Spike when he asked Garld to build the dolls for him as gifts for the Scoobies for Christmas. He'd given her photos and descriptions, even a newspaper article with a photo of Cordelia, slime drenched with the headline: Sewer system of L.A. has unexpected dangers.

 

Never had the thought of giving Spike a gift come into his head, there where no pics or anything of Spike when he sorted through the material he could maybe use, so he didn't contemplate the vamp for one second. He swallows hard.

 

"Erm.."

 

The telephone on the counter in the store rings and Broum stands up, gives Xander a strange look, as if he's figuring out something new and unpleasant about the youth, then he drawls: "Well, toyboy, looks like you’ll have to find a new present for Spike here, looks like the surprise is spoiled." Broum leaves the room with a pointed glance to his wife, satisfied by the deep flush on Xander's face.

 

"Oh! William – " she giggles. "I mean, Spike – I just finished Cordelia last night and wanted to start with your mini-version.." she frowns then smiles apologetically. "With your plastic-mini-version today. I am glad you're here – now you can help me with everything and you won't be too bored whilst Xander and Broum do their stuff."

 

Spike smiles at her – he'd get clothes his size and he'll even chose them, get them handmade exactly like he wants them to be, so it doesn't matter.

 

Doesn't matter if the whelp hadn't ordered a doll of him. Would be creepy even to see himself in plastic. Yes. Glad, the whelp didn't attempt that. Big Bad is unique. And as long as there – who was he kidding – it did twinge a bit but he had to admit, Harris and himself, they weren't on the best terms and all he'd give Harris for Christmas was a new improved, especially deep piercing, insult. But at least he'd have thought about the whelp, he'd have been creative and would have invested time and that has to count for something – doesn't it? He looks up and glares at Xander.

 

"TOYBOY!" The deep baritone voice has Xander up and moving in less than a second, or maybe it is more that Xander finally has a reason to leave Spike, who has forced him into  an unexpected conscious analysis with the accusing look he has given him.

 

As soon as Spike is alone with Garld, his shoulders slump and he looks up sadly into the warm grey eyes of the woman that, like many others, doesn't look at all like you'd imagine a demon.

 

"Sssh, William. Give him time, he's learning." She whispers and cups her hand around Spike's small back. Spike lets himself lean into the touch and sighs when warmth envelops him.

 

"What do you say, let me measure you and lets decide on some fabric and then you can go to sleep while I sew your new clothes together, agreed?" She reaches in one of the drawers under the desk, grabs the tape measure and shoves the half-finished plastic mini-figure of a darker, broader man to the back, as far as it goes, hoping Spike hasn't noticed the movement.

 

Upon seeing the tape measure, Spike leers at Garld, suggestively raising eyebrows and biting his lower lip. "How do you want me, baby?"

 

Garld laughs, her eyes twinkling. "I want you in the best clothes you can get around here." She says, and makes a gesture for him to get out of the pieces of handkerchief he has folded, not without some talent, and knotted around himself as a makeshift toga.

 

She does flinch, when she takes in his naked form and Spike grins at her, not in the least embarrassed about his unclothed state, sure of his looks and effect on women.

 

Garld however flinches because of what she can see are the signs of malnourishment, there are still bruises and scratches on the mini-vamp’s body, which can only be from the fight Xander wrote down about earlier, which was the cause of the shrinking. The skin seems a bit too white and too thin and the bones are better defined than the muscles on the tiny vamp's body.

 

"I am sure we can get you some blood around here which you can have before you go to sleep. You must be hungry." Spike looks at her, not really expecting that as an reaction to his body and for the first time in a while he glances down and *really* looks at himself, taking in his rib cage, his drawn-in belly and outstanding hip bones, knobbly knees. Oh.

 

"Blood'd be good. The fight.., was injured.., must have been more injured than I thought. Lost a lot of blood an' all." He says, trying to justify his appearance and Garld nods curtly.

 

"Good, then let's get this over with fast so you can get some blood. Wouldn't do any good to draw this out longer than necessary."

 

Xander stands in the door jamb, watching Garld and Spike, who are unaware of him. They are pretty involved in their measuring, Spike actually giggles when Garld tickles him with her fingernails accidentally, or more often now, on purpose. He just wants to tell Spike that he has to make some deliveries and will be gone until noon, just so the vamp knows, but now he doesn't want to disturb the easy companionship and good mood the two are in, so he turns away and leaves without saying anything. He grabs the boxes from the counter and does not meet Broum's curious gaze before leaving the shop.

Somehow this all went wrong and he wants the old Spike back, the one that's not vulnerable and who's snarky and annoying and strong and confident and who doesn't need help from him, isn't dependent on him, 'cause really – this is too much responsibility and he’s already managed to piss off Broum and to shift out of Garld's attention span.

 

He climbs into the delivery van and turns the key in the ignition, shudders when Cher cries out 'if I could turn back time' and decides no radio for him today, shuts it off and concentrates on manoeuvring the van out through the narrow gateway.

 

Maybe if he brings back some lunch, they'll be okay with him again.

It’s 1 pm when Xander arrives back at the shop. In the back of the van sits a big old-fashioned sideboard which he collected from a customer who wants it restored to its original state. He takes the bag with the Chinese food he bought on the way and goes inside Broum’s shop.

“Hey, I‘m back and I brought lunch with me!” Xander calls out to Broum who sits behind the selling counter, sorting through papers. The demon looks up and smiles at Xander. “Oh, great. I’m starving – I could eat a human.” He says. Xander stops short, suddenly unsure whether it’s a joke or not. Broum just starts laughing. “No worries, toyboy. We don’t eat humans. M’reit demons aren’t a dangerous species.”

Xander blushes. “Sure, knew that, would’ve never thought you were and…” He stumbles and feels stupid again. He knows that Broum and Garld aren’t dangerous, aren’t demons who would be on Buffy’s slaying agenda… well, wouldn’t be at the top of Buffy’s slaying agenda. He sighs inwardly. Why does it get so complicated now? Colliding loyalties and all.

Garld comes out of her office, almost noiselessly she pulls the door shut behind her. “Oh nice, Xander, is that Chinese I can smell?” She grins and grabs for the bag in Xander’s hand. Xander laughs and lets her have it. “Yeah, Chinese. Thought we could eat together, if you want and… “ He stumbles and looks down.

Garld narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t be silly, boy, course we want!” She sends a hard look at Broum who in turn rolls his eyes at her. “Gotta sit down and talk, toyboy.” Xander shrugs helplessly. “’K.”

Garld starts unpacking the bag, little white Chinese food boxes quickly take up most of the space on the small office table. They sit down and each of them grabs what he likes and starts eating. Xander seems miles away, nobody talks and the silence is uneasy. They often eat together and talk about business or personal matters, not that personal like demon heritage or so, but...

Garld kicks Broum under the table. “Ow!” He scowls at her. She shows her fairly human looking teeth and he gives in. “Toyboy... Xander, we gotta talk about a few things. About demons and death and slayers and the good side and bad side of being a slayer or demon hunter and...” Garld sighs and rolls her eyes. Broum pauses and looks at her, irritated. “What?!”

“You’re getting it all wrong! He’s done nothing wrong!” Garld reaches over and puts her hand on Xander’s. The human has sunk down on his chair as far as possible and looks thoroughly miserable.

“Look, Xander, you’ve done nothing wrong in the past. But your past is past and you asked for a chance to prove yourself here. You meant by your work. And you do magnificent work. But Broum and I, we want you to, well, think about your views of life, your values.”

“Ah hem.” Slowly Xander nods.

“We thought you knew that we are demons. You didn’t, did you?”

“I... no... I didn’t think about your origins at all. You’ve been just normal people to me. My boss and his wife.”

“And now, Xander, what are we now? Not normal people anymore? Demons?” Garld’s voice stays warm and friendly but her eyes show her concern.

“I... don’t know. You’re demons but you’re good to me, you care about me more than... a lot of people I know and everything, but the last few years with the slayer, we fought demons, still fight demons and mostly don’t have the time to ask if they’re good or bad or whatever. I can’t just... I can’t just throw everything overboard and be a new person overnight...”

“We understand, Xander, we do understand. It’s hard for you but since you brought William with you, we see that you’ve already started to differentiate between demons. That’s great.” Garld smiles at Xander who shyly smiles back. “And about William... what are you going to do now?”

“I keep him, of course!” Xander says eyes wide. Broum starts laughing and Garld soon follows.

“Course you keep him, toyboy. We want to know what you wanna do so he becomes his old size again.”

“Oh, oh, right. I, erm, I wanted to settle in tonight and talk with Spike. About the circumstances and everything. I wanted to ask Willow, if she can make Spike big again, but I’m not so sure about her. Maybe Giles could help but I can’t imagine a reason why he should help Spike at all. Maybe Spike knows someone who could help...”

Garld and Broum listen and nod to Xander’s suggestions. When he stops talking, Broum says: “That sounds okay so far. I know some people and I will ask around a bit, too. I’ll tell you if there is any news.”

“Thank you. Thank you both. For the help and the clothes for him and everything.”

“You’re welcome, Xander. It’s all right.” Garld smiles at Xander.

They rest of the meal goes by in the easy companionship they shared before. After they finish, Xander puts the empty boxes in the trash, the boxes with leftovers in the fridge.

“I’ll go and look after Spike now. Call me when you need me.”

“Sure, toyboy. Don’t forget your work over the cute little blondie!” Broum yells after him and starts laughing. Garld slaps her husband on his arm, but starts laughing too, when Xander turns around and looks at them horrified: “Cute little blondie?!”

***

To see Spike sleep, cuddled into what might have been Garld’s sewing basket on a shelf, half under a piece of drapery, affectionately put there to protect him from the midday sun which was just a warm glow behind the heavy blinds at the window, makes Xander’s heart ache but produces a tingling feeling in his belly. Once again he thinks about how close Spike came to ‘really dead death’ and finds himself again feeling happy about Spike still being here.

“Spike?” He calls out to the sleeping vampire who is awake instantly. Three-Inch-Spike sits up and stares at the gigantic Xander with wide eyes. This time recognition sets in almost without hesitation. No frightened panic this time, just ocean-deep disappointment. Encouragingly, Xander smiles at Spike but the blond just rolls his eyes at the youth. “So, through with work? Ready to go home to the basement of doom?”

“No and no and furthermore: won’t go there ever again!” Spike is stunned for a moment, then: “What do you mean? You’re not going there again? We’re not going there again? I’m not going, well getting carried, there again?” Ah, back to the panic. Great, Spike.

Grinning, Xander sits down on Garld’s stool and is now pretty much eye-to-eye with Spike in the sewing basket on the shelf. “I moved out.”

“Oh what! That’s great! Wait, on second thought: You idiot!” Spike springs to his feet and starts to pace in the basket. Xander thinks he would look just like the old Spike if there wasn’t the screaming yellow nightgownish-y thing Spike wears and of course his size. “How could you! I mean where are we gonna stay! Can anyone be sooo stupid?! Give up a roof over the head and...”

There is a lot of more cussing from Spike and Xander gets a little sad but otherwise... he never shared his plans with anybody. The last person coming to mind there is Spike and all. He watches Spike ruffling through his hair until it stands up in all directions.

“Shut up, you... chick. I’ve got an apartment. Here. Right over your head.” Spike lifts his head and looks at the shelf above the one his basket stands on. “Well, a bit further above your head. Second floor of the building. Apartment. Two rooms, plus bathroom and kitchen.”

Spike looks back at Xander with an expression somewhere between curiosity and doubt. “Well, that’s great then. Smart boy. Thought of everything, didn’t you. At least about getting a new apartment before giving up the old one. Really smart.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop it Spike! I didn’t take your brain black-out from two minutes ago seriously. See... you’ve got a way smaller brain now and...” Xander stops suddenly, regretting instantly what he just said, that he reminded Spike of his size, because Spike is watching him with golden eyes and full vamp mask on.

“Hey... sorry, I didn’t mean it... I just...”

“Did you just call me chick???” Spike growls.

Xander, who pretends to be frightened by the enraged vampire, stutters: “I.. didn’t mean chick as in girl... I meant because of your yellow skirt—ehm shirt-y-ish thing and your hair... it’s all fluffy... baby-chicken?”

“You’re soooo going to pay for that!” Spike growls and jumps out of the basket, he stops short on the edge of the, for him, five-floors high shelf. “Later!” He says grimly, not completely covering the sadness in his voice.