Sometimes, the images my mind comes up with are too real.

When I spend the whole day at work fantasizing about Spike,

I feel myself living in these dreams.

I drift deeper and deeper into my little world and after a long day I am too exhausted to make the effort of differing dreams and reality.

The only thing that stops me from throwing myself into his muscled arms is the squealing annoying ex-vengeance demon jumping into mine.

Tearing me out of the loved and safe ambience I conjured up.

Painful.

And all I can give to him instead of the possessing kiss to the pouting lips is a look pregnant with forced hostility.

Shaking off the unwanted blond I manage to sit down without breaking into tears and cry out my … yearning for the undead.

How can I go on like this?!

I simply go on.

At night, after I fulfilled my duty as a caring husband to the never sated, too loud moaning, too much demanding wife with the help of sex toys and excuses of exhaustion, I lie awake and pretend to be with him.

No.

No sweaty wank fantasies go around my head.

Just being with him would be fulfillment.

Complementation.

I wish to lie down with him, side by side, one hand entwined with one of his and bask in content, trust, confidence.

Because these are the things I never have but will always desire.

So, congrats to myself.
I wrecked the fucking car.
MY fucking car.
Total destruction.

Why?
Don’t fucking ask!
But I will write it down anyway.
It’s not like I could talk about this with Anya.
She would just interrupt me after a few words and complain about money we – she lost through this.

It’s all Spike’s fault.
Pffft.
Okay, it’s not entirely right.
I was the one transfixed by his long fingers closed around the gear lever.
Yes, I was driving.
Yes, I should have shifted gears by myself.
Yes, I was telephoning whilst driving.
Yes, Spike was so kind to shift gears for me.

When his pale slim hand gripped the leather clad stick hard, working it expertly with short controlled shoves...
I just lost it.

The mobile phone slid out of my suddenly numb hands, fell down between our seats, we both tried to pick it up, we knocked heads and the last thing I remember is Spike pulling me towards him, protecting me with his own body.

When I woke up, Spike’s scent was surrounding, overwhelming me.
Everything was silent, the night air chilling.
Trembling, nearly sobbing in fear to just wake up from another damn daydream of mine, I opened my eyes.

Blue, dark as an ocean before dawn, a wave crashing over - into me.
Concerned.
Caring.

One hand held my head still, the other was sliding over my torso,
I still pretend
it was not just a search for broken ribs.
Touching.
Caressing.

I moaned.
Loud.
Wantingly.

“Ssh, Xan.” He whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek.
My name in his rough timbre, accent making it sound... precious.

How was I supposed to stay silent?

Eyes still locked with his.
I moaned again, exaggerating in his ears, begging in mine.

He smiled down at me, mocking me good naturedly.
“Don’t be such a baby, the Gask’ha demon last week hit you harder than this and you didn’t say anything!”
He remembers that?

Fuck, doctor’s comin’.
Hate hospitals.

'Home'again.

At least I don’t have to wear the embarrassing hospital gown anymore.

I just had to stay for one night there “to make sure your brain isn’t damaged or in any danger to get damaged by the concussion”.

Something about water and pressure in my head.

Kinda too late for preventing brain damage.

I can’t have an intact brain or much of it.

I am married to an ex-vengeance demon and lusting after a master vampire.

Two witches and a slayer as my –no not anymore best, just – friends, a watcher as a pseudo Daddy.

Pffft.

Anya visited me in the hospital.

As I’ve foreseen she was pretty angry with me.

“Did you do it on purpose or were you drunk?” was her greeting.

I shook my head no to both her assumptions, stunned by her aggressive approach.

You would think, she would be worried about my health or something.

She nodded, a hard jerking motion, then: “I will not support these little games you are playing.

You can have a new car when you have saved enough money to buy one by yourself.”

Huh? Games? Playing? Me?

Crazy much, my ‘lovely’ wife?

I tried to say something against her accusations but manage only a sound like “Hugrguh?”

She took that as a clue that I actually relied on her buying me a new car and stomped out of the hospital room, slamming the door.

Alone again after her sudden retreat.

No more visitors for me the whole day.

Just after sunset, the nurse comes with the papers to sign and I am allowed to go.

Well, allowed to be pushed to the exit in a wheelchair.

One of the most humiliating moments in a man’s life.

Being wheeled by a elderly woman when you are actually able to go.

Followed closely by the moment you look up and realize, a beautiful master vampire, leaning relaxed against something which appears to have been a DeSoto once is watching you being wheeled by said elderly woman.

And it is not the humiliating moment #1 because it was one of the best moments in my life too.

I just couldn’t stop the face splitting grin, as blinding as my face allows, from emerging.

The effect is ... marvelous.

Spike’s cool smirk melted into a warm smile.

A pure “welcome” smile.

Like the sun coming up.

And who thought, I would ever associate Spike and the sun?

My stomach did the funny flopping thing when he came towards me and I think, I blushed a nice shape of purple when I took his outstretched hand.

I stumbled a little, being my clumsy self, when he pulled me out of the wheelchair.

The pressure of his cool hand on mine increased, making me feel safe, wanted.

And if I block out all the memories and all my doubts, I even felt loved.

Anya is back from work in a few.
Have to stop.

Tonight.

Patrol.

Paired with Spike as always.

Smoke. Leather. Copper.

Spike.

Far too near to me.

I am thankful that my want of him is not the burning need

to fuck him.

Think he dismisses the always present arousal, the bulge my semi hard cock makes in my jeans, explaining it with my youth

or just thinking, I am a horny bastard.

Well, until tonight.

Stepping into the Magic Box, a six pack of beer under my arm, calling Spike names, okay, more nicknames, basking in his presence.

A crying Anya, wobbly chin stubborn set, screamed out her frustration to the girls, including Dawn and the glasses scrubbing watcher,

screamed that “Xander refuses for weeks now to give me orgasms with his cock or his mouth!”

The urge to just grab her and snap her neck - a satisfying sound – was nearly overwhelming.

I suddenly felt for my father.

Sometimes you just lose patience.

My face is reddened more by

anger than embarrassment.

I now wonder, if I would have simply snapped her neck when she still was a vengeance demon?

Demon. Not human.

Something I kill without second thought every night.

Something easy to get rid of.

Dust and gone.

Like Spike.

No, not like Spike.

He has more personality than most of the humans.

More insight. More perception.

More beauty.

I am not angry that Anya complained.

She just shouldn’t do it in public.

Not in front of other men, not in front of customers.

I turned my head to look at Spike, to get my daily dose of humiliation from the person it hurts the most to receive it from.

Cutting through bones with his accent,shredding my heart with his sharp words.

I was prepared for a smirk,even for barely contained laughter or for a disgusted expression, but never ever for the concerned look in his dark blue eyes.

The anger for Anya forgotten, totally confused I just turned around and flew out of the store.

On my way “home” I had the creepy feeling that someone was following me, but I have seen no one.

So now I am lying on the couch, the six pack missing four bottles already and the two left will follow soon.

I am determined to sleep on the couch, there is nothing Anya could do to make me sleep in the bedroom.

And all I feel is relief.

Relief that I don’t need to pretend to be too tired to get it up, that I am okay with bringing her off without getting off myself, that I am okay with her.

When Anya came home last night
she woke me up.

She tried to coerce me into the bedroom, promising sex.

Sorry babe, hot soft folds don't even get me up.

She saw the beer and thought I had accidentally passed out on the couch.

If she had an idea how much I actually can drink...

Looks like resistance to alcohol is a family thing.

I grinned and she said I was a drunk like my father.

She nearly got me to show her, how my father really was, nearly beat her and I know I wouldn't have stopped until she wasn't able to talk and walk for a while.

Instead I grabbed my jacket and went out again.

Congratulating myself for not losing control.

I hadn't even closed the door behind me when a zippo lighting up made me aware of his presence.

Without a word he fell into step with me and we went to the next store.

Spike is pretty good at stealing bottles.

I only paid for two six packs.

"Somewhere quiet." I said.

"Crypt."

"'k."

So that's how I got here.

We didn't talk about Anya.

Why should we?

She laid the cards on the table for fucking everyone.

Spike doesn't ask for the why I don't want to have sex with her.

He waits until I tell him deliberately.

When he thinks, someone pretends something, then he presses until that someone just has to admit the truth.

I don't pretend anything

I just don't want to talk about it.

He knows that.

He respects that.

Pretty wasted, I passed out somewhere between sunset and midday.

I vaguely remember grabbing Spike's hand when he put a blanket over me.

His other hand stroked through my hair when I begged him to never leave me.

Or something.

I hope I dreamed that.

Or that Spike was drunk enough to just ignore it.

I wonder where he is now.

Could need some more sleep to get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach and the headache.

And I like Spike's bed and his blankets.

They smell of him.

Like Spike.

Even.

A whole week of living in a crypt, living with Spike.

A whole week of passing out drunk, of Spike waking me with food, of showering in the sewers under a damn cold water pipe.

A whole week of temper tantrums, begging, pleading and fighting with Anya, Buffy, Willow even Giles.

A whole week of easy companionship, of peace, of just being.
No expectations,
no duties,
no rules.

Two days since having a raging hard-on whenever Spike is around. Not able to hide it.
No want to hide it.
No need to hide it.

Two days since seeing Spike with a raging hard-on whenever he is around me.
Not able to hide it.
No want to hide it.
No need to hide it.

One day since Spike told me that Anya smelled of Giles’ cum.

One day since I believed him,
trusted him.
No need for him to lie.
No need for me to lie.

"Should make it even then." I said and kissed him.

And he devoured me.
Hungry.
Greedy.
Overwhelming.
Spike love.

Yeah, love.
We don’t say it but we both know it.

No whining, no fuzzy feelings, no uncertainty.

Just plain and simple me and him.
Want. Need. Take.

And god, did I take!

Everything he offered was absorbed by me, my rough hands on every inch of his forever young skin,
My mouth worshipping that never ageing body with words and kisses and licks.

Finally finding the fulfillment I longed for.

Fucking me through the mattress again and again, demon and man showing me Spike love.
Demanding more.

Slow, long strokes, shallow moves, deep breaths, stopping, starting all over again, stopping holding his gaze every second, lazy pleasure, unbreakable intimacy and... forever.

Xander love.
Offering more.


Needing more.
Now.

Wow, more than two years since my last entry.

So much has happened in the meantime.

I never moved back in with Anya,

I only went back once to get some of my things, comic book collection and personal documents.

I didn’t take anything else, I wanted a fresh start without any baggage.

I faced off with Giles that day, as bluntly as I could I just asked: "So you’re fucking Anya now?">

I didn’t know the watcher could blush, or even stutter.

Frantically polishing his glasses he got back some dignity and told me he was in love with her.

I am still proud that my face stayed expressionless, even when I just wanted to roll on the floor laughing.

When I told Spike, he did just that, rolling on the bed laughing, that is, and in no time I joined his rolling and the laughter died down to moans and soft whimpering when I took his balls in my mouth, one at a time, shifting them around with my tongue.

Giles and Anya left for London a week after Buffy’s funeral.

They were very relieved, I think, they had big fights because of Anya’s pregnancy and the chances of raising a child on the hellmouth.

They gifted us with the Magic Shop, it’s good work, Spike and I enjoy it.

The training room is now my work room, I work with wood, build everything the customer requests.

Spike is totally in charge of the books and there is no danger of him getting ‘too involved’ with magic.

And he opened the shop to… hm… slightly different customers.

Willow is still in custody, a white wiccan something down under.

Tara and Dawn moved there, they are a ... big support for each other.

Tara is allowed to visit her every four weeks for a half day, she always phones me then, tired, sad and frustrated and tells me the news, well, actually she tells me the same every time: Willow has still not got back her grip on reality, she doesn’t acknowledge Tara’s presence, only the magic in her and talks to it, tries to lure it out of her.

The visits always end after only one or two hours, when Tara is too exhausted to hold her barriers up.

Dawn will not be allowed to visit Willow ever, the energy contained inside her is without protection.

The wiccan tried to put a protection or a binding spell on her but the key’s energy removes them immediately.

Looks like it has learned after the ‘tabula rasa’ incident.

Spike and I are mated since 37 days.

And Wesley hates me even more than before.

He nearly died of watcher-y curiosity and jealousy.

It’s not my fault that the vampire lore limits the mating ritual - a big orgy fuck actually – to the members of the vampiric family and the human to be mated.

Angel refuses to mate in general.

Sad really.

I nearly feel for Wesley.

But at least he has that huge dick every day.

I am so completely happy.

Spike is the fulfillment - in any sense – I hoped for in all my life.

Since we’re mated, our relationship is even more intense.

To feel him embedded so deep inside me - body, soul and heart – leaves me at peace and smiling like an idiot.

But that’s just what having Spike does to you…

Dear Spike,

I am sorry to waste all the blood.

I know you are angry.

BUT:

Now, after more than 7 years with you

I don’t want to wait anymore.

The mating slowed down my ageing process

but now I feel it’s time.

Only a year or two and I will look like your older brother,

not like your consort anymore.

So I decided it was time.

In all the years our mating anniversary was something cherished

and you were never late and

I know you won’t be late tonight.

So this is the right way.

You don’t live with William the Bloody for so long

without learning one or two things

about blood, pain and death.

We discussed this so often and you were always against me helping us to reach our goal: forever.

It’s your choice,

turn me or let me die.

Don’t you dare to “save” me.

You know I want this, want you, with my heart, my soul, my body, forever.

If you don’t turn me, it’s okay, but let me die.

I couldn’t live with the knowledge

that you denied me forever, couldn’t live with the lie we lived for more than the last seven years.

If I die tonight, there is just one thing I regret:

You knew, and, after the mating, even felt, how much I love you.

But I never said it out loud.

I wish I could tell you now.

I love you Spike, forever, either way it will end.

Yours.

Whelp,

You, you… stupid idiot…you… why did you do it? damn you! ... to take this from us!

I was late, too bloody late. … You are so cold. … I did get the chip out, I can turn you now, see? … no, can’t see anymore… can’t look at me anymore … you fucker.

It just took an hour longer than I planned. Why… bloody fucking hell, why couldn’t you wait! … just an hour and we could have done it my way. … 7 fucking years, 4 month and 17 days since you kissed me… that is just too damn short, a blink of an eye for us, for forever… you damn… whelp, you knew! you knew I love you ...

I would never let you go and now… now you lie there… your all cold! … you never were this cold. you’re my nummy, my warmth, you're mine! … you are not allowed to go.

Mine, do you hear me, MINE! You can’t hear me anymore, can you? … Nummy… what now? … What shall I do? without you. Here. Alone in our home. Our. You are part of this, this is yours and mine and … what… am I without you… am I without you?

Where did you go? … did you go where you belong white knight? … heaven … can you come back… no… witch is all nuts… so where do I go without you?... wanna go with you… don’t wanna be without you… want you to open your eyes… brown and deep… like coffee and whiskey… so good to look in your eyes… and now… nothing anymore… all gone… wanna go with you… meet you again… where do you go, pet? luv? nummy?...

Suicide closes the doors to heaven pet… didn’t you know?... where… are you lost somewhere in between?... lost?... are you scared?... oh god, luv, don’t be… protect you… I swore to keep you safe… couldn’t, couldn’t… always want to keep you safe… never lost again.

Promised… promised you!… do I go there too?... not all bad anymore, am I?... we’ll see… nummy… won’t we?... you’ll be there, won’t you? …meet me there?… wait for me pet? luv, wait for me there?...

I’ll be there… soon see you again… won’t I? see you again?... wait nummy… I’m gonna find you… find you there and take care of you… keep you safe… forever - we still have forever if we find each other there, won’t we? still have forever, luv?... gonna see you there... wait, just a moment… no longer lost then… my nummy, mine …somewhere in between… yours forever…

Spike