Reasons For Living

by
Narcolepticcat

4.1 Foolish Love

Xander leaned on the counter of the Magic Box. The last time I saw this place it looked like Sarajevo. He stared at the table; Buffy, Giles, Willow, Anya, and Dawn sat round it. He thought about the days he hated to think about, stared around at all the magic stuff. He thought of the dream he'd had the night before, on the boat. Just a few swings of the blade and... Willow looked comfortable amidst all the gadgets and whosits. Xander smiled and felt the weight leaning on him shift a little bit.

Spike sucked on a little, white, plastic nicotine inhaler as if it were the last meal he'd ever suck. He shoved off from Xander's side, made for the door, and fished in his pockets for the real thing.

"Bloody hell. I'm going outside."

Xander left the counter and moved to the table, heard the new bell over the door ring and then the slam as it shut. Anya tapped her finger on a book, irritated at the blank stares and cowed silence.

"Well, I'll say something." Anya waved her finger at the body closest to her. "Could this little Scoobfest not happen elsewhere? I have green pieces of paper with the faces of dead presents."

"Presidents." Dawn held back a smile.

Anya rolled her eyes, continued, "Anyway, I have money to fucking count."

Xander watched this exchange, amused. "Whoa, Anya, that's not ready for prime-time language, even for you."

Anya's nostrils flared and Xander could feel her inner ex-vengeance demon. "That's it, I've had it. Get out."

Xander laughed and pushed out a lopsided grin. "I haven't said anything."

Anya crossed her arms, looked at the Scoobies who remained silent and waited for her to do something. She sighed defeatedly and slumped back in her chair. She said, "It was more than enough, really."

"Anya, unwrap your panties from the bunch they're in and be in the now. Xander is here, granted, Spike is what, part of the ordered pair, but so? Anyway, yay," Dawn said.

Giles leaned back in his chair. Willow and Buffy looked at him, tried to gauge his expression. Xander looked at Willow and Buffy and followed their eyes to Giles. The three of them combined could make nothing of it. Giles' expression stood unchanged by the attention, unreadable as ever.

"At least some things never change, hmmm," Xander said.

A moment of silence passed; Dawn found the tabletop fascinating, Willow looked up to the rafters, Buffy stared tried to stare Xander down. When he didn't blink, she did.

"Fine, I'll bite. Why are you back? And why are you living the life of Trent?" Buffy said.

Xander started to laugh. "I guess I'd rather have nine inch nails than nine inch stakes?" Willow groaned and eyes all around rolled back into heads. Xander chuckled, regained composure. "Seriously, you spend most of your time living at night where there's pretty people, you have to - you know - be a pretty night
person. Besides, I'd kill the me you remember if I met him today."

Willow gulped. "Kill?"

"Sorry Will. Willow. I don't really deserve to call you Will anymore, I've done things." Xander said, found Willow's eyes and held them.

Buffy interrupted, "Things? Like, slayage? What? How bad could you be? You may look all children of the night, but you're still Xander. Aren't you?"

"Sometimes. Not anytime recently."

The door opened, the bell plinked and Spike reentered the shop. The smell if not the actual smoke found its way in after him. Xander looked over his shoulder, smiled, motioned for Spike to stand by him.

"When was the last time I was Xander, baby?"

"You mean ‘get on the Banana Boat’ Xander? Xander-proper? Outside guess, three years? Maybe." Spike thought, counted.

"Yeah, that's about." Xander remembered and his eyes lit up. "No, there was that bad week last summer."

"True enough. Yeah, I guess you lot don't much approve of new and improved Xander?"

Spike looked around. He stopped when Giles spoke up and pulled off his glasses. He’s going to wipe them off with the tail of his shirt. Giles bunched up the bottom of his shirt around his glasses’ lense and spoke. Xander and Spike, without a look to the other, both broke into grins.

"It's not that we don't… approve. It's certainly not that I don't approve, God knows. I've been. Well, rebel without a cause more often that I care to admit, but it is quite an astonishing transformation."

Spike smirked, "That's what happens to little boys when their bollocks finally drop."

Dawn and Buffy sounded a chorus of "ewww". Anya rolled her eyes, for once not to condescend, but to agree. A half-smile flitted across Giles' face; he put his glasses back on. Xander just stared at the vampire in a sad impersonation of total embarrassment.

He rolled his eyes and said, "I can't believe you just said that."

"Why not, love, y'know it's true. Truer words've never been spoken. To be or not to be, you are the question."

"Whether 'tis nobler of the kissage or the gropage…" Xander said.

Spike leaned down from behind Xander who turned his head up and their lips crushed together, mouths opened just enough. Xander's hand found the back of Spike's head, Spike's hand found Xander's chest. They held the pose.

"So many things that are so very wrong are so happening right now," Buffy said as she tried to look away.

Xander and Spike broke their embrace and turned toward Buffy and together chimed the ultimate comeback:

"So?"

Interlude: Days Go By

Author’s Note: Seven years before Xander and Spike returned to Sunnydale the boys were still waiting to leave. All they could do was mark the time until they got the hell off the Hellmouth. One question was always on Spike’s mind and for Xander the calendar was always the answer. And the time killer was always pretty obvious…

"How many days?” Spike said.

Xander stalked across the apartment, the one he once shared with Anya, to the calender covered in red x’s, the days counted down one mark at a time. He held his finger to the calender, scanned down. “Eleven.”

“Eleven bloody days, love. How are we supposed to make it?”

“On the sofa, probably. The bed, maybe. The shower is a yes, the kitchen counter is a yes. The floor, if need arise. How else? The park? Maybe again. Hmmm, there’s lots of ways we can make it.”

“I mean,” Spike said, “how are we supposed to keep from killing them before we leave?”

Xander turned to Spike, his eyes shocked, but not really. “Gee, Spike, we just don’t. Kill them.”

Spike’s tongue was cool, wet and dry, flicking across Xander’s back. Xander arched up to it, Spike pulled away, almost broke the contact. Xander moaned. Spike held Xander face down, their bodies connected. Spike inside Xander, Xander around Spike. Their rhythm constant. In, out, press, pull, push, pull, in, out.

Xander flexed tight around Spike. Spike growled, low, deep; sunk his dick in deeper. Xander rose to his knees, Spike pulled out, away.

“Hey, get back in there.”

Spike pushed in free of hesitation, felt the man beneath him struggle to stay up. Spike’s dick throbbed in and out, longer, slower, pushed the button deep inside Xander who came onto the hard floor beneath them. He clamped down around Spike, in one, two, three thrusts. They collapsed. Spike lay on top of Xander, slid around his side, his dick drained still inside Xander.

“Bloody hell. It amazes me every time we do that.”

Xander sighed a lover’s sigh and pressed his lips to Spike’s, slow, full of intent. Twisted his body away, for a moment, straightened himself, pulled Spike closer, spent dicks touching, a sequel greenlit into preproduction. Xander ran his fingers into the vampire’s hair, where roots showed, and grabbed hold, a gentle tug, a tease of a bite on Spike’s lip, and they were into principal photography, man hard against vampire, vampire hard against man.

“I know I’m not a vampire and all, but,” Xander said, “can I come in?”

“Bloody right you can, pet.”

Xander rolled on top of Spike, Spike’s back flat on the floor, his legs hooked around Xander’s waist, dicks pressed together. Spike spread further, Xander spit into his palm, gripped his dick. He aimed his head, purple, expectant at Spike’s hole, sought purchase. Rubbed it there for a moment, craned down to kiss Spike, felt the real sigh of permission, the truth, and drove forward slow.

Spike bit his lip, began to chew through the pain with dull, human teeth, felt himself open, swallow Xander whole, gameface always one growl away. Can be all ugly-pretty when he can’t see my face, but not like this.

Xander pushed harder, longer, almost in. He felt Spike open, watched him chew at his lip, wanted to feel that pain, saw the furrow of the eyebrows that said, “Be careful with me.” Careful with Spike. Spike careful with me. Careful. And he hit home. All the way, hard heat deep in cool. Spike lay still, Xander hovered over him, waited. Flexed his hips, his dick swelling. Spike shook, his whole body tense, every muscle taut. Xander backed out, slow, slow, slow. Spike rolled his head up against the hard floor, looked away. Xander grabbed his head, pulled it forward, up, kissed him as he pushed back in, slow.

My head’s going to explode. My bloody, body, Jesus I let you do this to me. Make me want to live so I can die happy. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Xander moved faster now. Lapped up the blood from the vampire’s chin. In, out, damn, out, in, yes, in, Jesus, in, out. Pushed hard, quick. Wrapped his hand around Spike’s dick. Felt the vampire throb in his hand, pulled down, pre-come spreading over his head as the foreskin slid back. Held the foreskin down, squeezed the head, torture pleasure, good.

Spike grinned, a little growl, a smirk. The whelp, the man, pulled him back, bared his head, squeezed, pressed. Began the slow tease, the one that happened fast.

Xander throbbed again, harder, felt the vampire jump as he found the spot, the place inside. Again, again, again. The vampire tightened around his dick, his grip tightened around the vampire’s dick. Xander pushed deeper, deeper, pulled harder on Spike, up, down, in, out, up, Jesus, out, damn, in, up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Both came, sudden, hard. Hot come filled Spike. Cool, warm come filled Xander’s hands, their chests. Bodies. Together. Both.

“How many days?” Spike said.

Xander caught his breath. “Does it really matter?”

They lay in a pile, a cool, warm, hot, pile. Arms and legs tangled, face to face on their sides. Xander swallowed, gulped, kissed Spike. Spike kissed back. They broke.

“No, not really,” Spike said. “Long as we’re leaving. Long as it’s together.”

“It is, Spike, it is.”

4.2 All in Me

“You left in such a… hurry. And we noticed, Xander gone. Bad gone. Nowhere to be found gone. And we noticed, Spike gone. We weren’t sure whether that was good or bad, actually, but. Gone, both bodies. Together?”

Dawn spoke for the Scoobies, her voice high, curious. Each of the Scoobies looked to Xander for some reason, then to Spike as if he could make Xander say something. Xander who sat, monument still. Xander who wasn’t quite who he had been, but wasn’t quite different either.

“And you’re back now,” Willow said, a smile peeking out from behind somewhere. “But why now, why back? Why leave?”

The question Why leave? no one wanted to ask, but Why leave? everyone wanted answered, popped out of her mouth Why leave? before she could stop it.

“I guess because…” Xander began.

Giles held up his hand, “Don’t, Xander, not quite yet. It’s not time. I’m not sure that we’re ready to know the why’s and how’s. I know I’m not. I’m content to have you back under this roof.” Giles smiled wide, and Xander knew he meant it. Buffy took exception, shook her head.

“I don’t get it.”

“There’s libraries of things you don’t get, pet.” Spike interrupted.

“No, I mean, whatever. Giles, is right, I guess, technically. I don’t like it, but as long as you’re here, Xander, you’ll explain eventually, right? You’ll explain before you…”

“Leave again? I won’t be leaving again.”

Spike bristled at the finality, at the sheer, just, Dammit, love, why’d you go and say something that permanent, why’d you make that particular promise? I won’t stay here again, and I won’t leave without you, so that puts me… where? “Xander, won’t?”

“Well, baby, it’s a contraction using the words ‘will’ and ‘not’, it’s often used as a statement of choice or intent, both of which I have in any given situation and which I choose to exercise now.”

“What?” Spike and Willow intoned, curious.

Spike continued, “Big words, love. Sounds like you even know what they mean.”

“You think years abroad with you and I’d pretend you didn’t talk in big words at night?” Xander replied, a smile emerged on his face, pride. Proud of himself, proud of Spike… proud of the Scoobies. Home. Ick. “Well, if everything’s okay, then. I don’t know about my sex-vampire, but I’d like to go make with the ugly bumpin’.”

“When you say it like that, love, then… Bloody hell, yeah, might.”

“Okay then. Guys, nice to see you, we’ll play catch up tomorrow night? This is kinda my primetime as much as its Spike’s.”

“Wait.” Buffy spoke now, hard. “What about your aura? Right, Will? It was off when we spotted you at the Bronze? What do you mean your primetime?” Her eyes scanned shelves near her for a stake within arm’s distance. Xander noticed.

“Yes, my primetime, as in, I prefer night, not day. Day is of the ‘I can’t be with me mate,’ as he might say. But because that’s not what you’re asking, I’ll say this once, and only once. I’m clean. No bites on me. None of the turnin’, none of the dustin’.” Xander stood, crossed his arms as Spike walked to the door, not wanting any part of a confrontation between Xander and Buffy, at least not this confrontation. “We clear?”

“As a windshield, I mean. Window. Or, help.” Buffy stammered.

“Crystal, Xander, Buffy’s just worried. Who’s not?” Willow said. She rested a hand on Buffy’s shoulder who pretended to research an invisible blemish on some fingernail.

“I’m bloody not,” Spike said from the door, cigarette already at his lips.

“Come on, pet, so I can fuck you proper.” Spike added for shock value, for the shock of him saying it. To Xander. And meaning it. Giggle.

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