prestory

Return To Memory

by
Raihne

Part Five

Everyone was talking at once again until Giles finally screamed "QUIET!"

They all stared at him.

The usually calm Englishman cleared his throat and blushed a bit, "Well, then. Back to the demon. The Kr'j'ghcil demons are not extremely powerful magically, however their blood is a component in many spells to do with dimensional travel and granting."

Xander head shot up from the book he was looking at, "Granting? What's that?"

"Well, simply put, it is a form of wish fullfillment without the twists involved with usual spells, but it is also temporary unless the blood is consumed, since you were drenched in it, but did not swalow any, I would imagine that when the last of it has rubbed off or been absorbed, then you will naturally shift back to your own world."

"That powdery stuff is demon blood?" Xander wrinkled his nose, "That is so gross!"  

"Yes well." The watcher put the books away and made an all-done type motion with his arms, "That is, as they say, that. You will shift back within a day or two, until then. . ."

"You c'n stay wit' me." Spike spoke up and stood, shrugging his duster into place upon his shoulders. "C'mon, we're leavin'."

Xander followed the vampire with a quick wave to the people behind him. He knew he should say something, but he didn't quite know what to say. 'sorry' just didn't seem to cover it.

They walked up to a nice looking apartment complex and Spike unlocked the front door, leading Xander up to the top floor and opening the penthouse. The shaggy haired boy followed the vampire inside and couldn't surpress a "whoa."

"Nice i'nt it?" Spike tossed the keys into a bowl on top of an ornate wooden table. A table that looked very familiar. "Lex carved that. Loved wood 'e did. Always found 'at kind o' ironic."

"Actually, I carve too, I have a table a lot like this at home."

The vampire didn't say anything, just hung his duster on a similarly carved coat rack and stalked into the next room. Xander followed, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

The living room was a clash of styles, young geeky chic and gothic punk. Black leather furniture, all but for the soft, plush, green armchair that looked closer to a loveseat with only one cusion than a chair for it's width. Walls were painted a dusty gold color. The entertainment center was a glass and metal monstrosity while all of the tables and other smaller furniture were natural, carved wood. The walls were decorated with pictures of comic book heros and were those. . . yep. His Babylon 5 collectors plates. But the curtains over the blackout shades were black, webbed lace, and the lamps and chandelier were black, rob iron and twisted in a medieval looking way. There were candles everywhere and the bookshelves were full of everything from Byron to Batman. There were six different gaming systems hooked up on the enertainment center's shelves and a superman symbol throw rug graced the black, fuzzy carpet in front of a beanbag sporting the X-men. That would be a pefect seat to play video games from. Xander nodded absently. He'd lived here, well sort of. It was obvious.

"You done gawkin'."

He blushed and turned to Spike who was standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Um. . ."

"Been a long night, not lookin' ta deflower you 'r an'thin', jus' wan' some sleep."

"With me?"

"Get's cold, at night." He supplied lamely.

Xander took pity on him. After all it was his presence that was hurting Spike enough to throw him off his game. He walked into the bedroom and stripped down to his boxers, sliding quickly into the bed to avoid any vampy staring.

Spike climbed in on the other side of him and turned off the light, instantly going as still as, well, the dead.
After a good hour of slow controlled breathing, Xander felt a soft touch on his chest. He kept his eyes shut and forced himself to stay still.

"Not right Nummy." Spike whispered, "'m doin' my part yeah? Fightin' the good fight 'n all. Shouldn' have ta loose you twice. 's not fair Nummy. Not a'tall."

The boy felt his lip tremble and turned toward the vampire, burying his face in Spike's chest sleepily to hide the fact tht he was still wide awake. No it wasn't fair. But Xander didn't know what to do. There was nothing he could do. He had to go back. There was his job to think about, and his friends would be frantic, and his Spike, who he was starting to see in a different light. He couldn't stay, no matter how much he wanted to. They were in the middle of war with Adam for crying out loud! And Anya. . . well Anya had probably split the moment he disappeared, on her never ending quest for orgasms and money. A girl had to have priorities. But he had to go back. It was a secret he'd take to his grave, the fact that at that moment, he really didn't want to.

No sun shone through the window to wake him in the morning. In fact, his internal clock told him it was night again by the time he pulled himself out of bed. The smell of food carried him into the kitchen where Spike was whipping up omelets.  Xander didn't realize Spike even knew what a frying pan was for, other than a handy dandy tool for cracking skulls. The proof, though, was standing right in front of him, in an apron, a purple apron.

"Smells edible." Xander quipped.

Spike shrugged, "Had ta feed y. . . Lex, didn' I. Not like you could cook worth a damn. Woulda' lived off twinkies and soda, daft bugger."

"As the voice of experience I can honestly say man cannot live off of twinkies and soda alone." Xander promised, "Man must also have cheese doodles and pop tarts."

Spike made a disgusted face and slid a plate before him. A plate covered in omelet and sausage and biscuits even, no plain toast for him, no sir.

"You really CAN cook!" Xander said, awed, after the first bite.

The vampire sat across from him, blood in a crystal goblet type thing the screamed 'Dracula', 'Anne Rice', 'Anita Blake' or any of those cheesy Vampire royalty tales.  "What's with the. . ." He motioned.

Spike rolled his eyes, "Lex. The burk got all antsy 'bout me drinking blood in 'is mugs, so he went out an' got, what he called, the vampire glasses."

"That makes sense."

"Ta th' Alexander Harrises of the world it might." Spike glowered, "Fer the rest o' us it's completely barmy."

"You're just pissed 'cause it make you look like a Jean-Claude wanna be."

Spike snorted and drank his blood, ignoring the human before him as long as he could, which wasn't really long at all. "So, 'm I gonna get another kiss? Or d'ya wan' ta pretend it didn't happen?"

Xander choked on his food and blinked hard to clear the tears from his eyes. "Um. . . yes?"

"Yes ferget it, or Yes, more?"

The boy's lips quirked, "Please sir, I want some more."

Spike was out of his chair and devoring the lad's mouth before Xander could react. Then he didn't want to. Blood breath aside, Spike's kisses were like twinkies and chocolate and christmas all rolled into one with a side of lusty goodness and ooooooooh God, tossed in for good measure. A guy could get addicted to kisses like that! And kisses like that could give a boy other ideas as well.

"Bedroom."

"You sure luv?"

Xander delved deeper into his mouth and Spike lifted him off of the floor, backing him into the bedroom and pushing him back onto the bed, falling with him and landing in a nice possition, right on top of him.

"Spike!" Xander groaned.

"Want you."

"Yeah."

"Now!"

"Yes!" Xander agreed whole heartedly, locking away the tiny bit of sanity that hadn't melted at 'The Kiss' where no part of him could hear it's protests. He reached up for Spike and gave. Control, Himself, even a bit of his heart, Xander gave.

He didn't realize how much Spike offered in return for those gifts. He wouldn't know until much later, and he didn't care. Because right at that moment, Spike was licking his way up Xander's belly and sternum and neck, and Xander was more than happy to let the vampire taste.

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