Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC17/Slash
Spoilers: Through season 6 ‘Hells Bells’.
Summary: Xander has a 'horrifying' vision of the future and sets out to see if it’s true or not.
Notes: Mostly fluff and funnies, some angst. Written for the first round of the Choose Your Author Ficathon..
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whomever else they really belong to, although I wouldn’t mind having a Spike of my own. Who would? The story is mine, though.
Thanks: To Tammy, for the most excellent beta.
Written: August 5, 2004

When Visions Come True

by
Spikedluv

Part One

Xander had been drinking for three days straight now, and he was nowhere near ready for sobriety. His life was in shambles, his emotions in turmoil. While burying his head in the sand wasn’t his normal approach to life—something it was dangerous to do on the Hellmouth if you wanted to survive—on this occasion he thought he might be forgiven for doing so. Although, it wasn’t sand he was burying his head in at the moment, he thought with a bitter laugh as he took another swig of JD straight from the bottle, having given up two days ago on the glass now rolling around somewhere under the bed.

Because three days ago he’d left Anya at the altar. Dumped her. Broken her heart along with their engagement. The dismal future the demon had shown him was straight out of his worst nightmare. It had reeked of hopelessness and despair. It wasn’t the reason he’d called off the wedding, but it was the only excuse he’d been willing to acknowledge to himself, much less admit to Anya.

What he hadn’t told Anya was that the demon had shown him two visions of the future. One in which he and Anya lived a miserably unhappy existence as they strove for the American Dream and ended up turning into younger versions of his parents. Discontent, disillusioned, and dissatisfied with their lives, and with each other. And another, which had been closer to the future he’d hoped to have with Anya, and in which he was extremely happy. The unfairness of it all made his chest tighten and his eyes burn.

Xander closed his eyes and let his memories of the second vision run through his mind. Despite the joyous atmosphere pervading that vision, it felt like an assault. And it seemed that no amount of alcohol would clear it from his brain. He kept telling himself that the demon had lied. He knew that the demon’s purpose had been to hurt Anya for her part in ruining his life, but he could still see the bright, cheery images, could still sense the delight he’d felt in just being alive, and in love. It was so ironic he could scream.

Even with his long and deeply held fear of turning into his father, the vision of his future with Anya might not have seemed so dire if it hadn’t been viewed side-by-side with the other, happier future. Or so he told himself.

For three days he had tried to drink his memories away, but he’d been tremendously unsuccessful. He’d reminded himself of all the reasons the vision had been a load of crap; a lie of monumental proportions. He’d even made lists. Lots of them if the crumpled balls of paper scattered about the bed were any indication. He picked one of them up and un-balled it, groaning when he read the words he’d printed there. No wonder he’d crumpled it up and threw it away.

To show how low he’d fallen, he’d even considered asking Willow to perform a spell that would make him forget, but then he remembered how well that had turned out last time, only belatedly recalling that Willow had sworn off magic entirely.

Xander knew he wouldn’t be able to just return to his life as if nothing had happened. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t hurt Anya, and he would need to handle the fallout from that. Nor could he shake the residual feelings from the second vision. He loved Anya, but in the second future he’d been shown, he’d been in love. Deeply in love. And he’d known he was loved in return. He didn’t know how he knew, or how the demon had managed to make him feel those feelings, but he couldn’t rid himself of them. There was no white picket fence, no 2.5 children running around the house. No Anya, no Buffy, no Willow. But there had been smiles, and laughter, and love. And he wished he could gouge the images out of his brain.

Christ, he needed a shower! He stank like his father after a three-day binge, and that was the only thing that got him to put the bottle down and stagger to the bathroom. He needed to shower and go home, deal with the mess he’d made of his life, and decide what to do about the vision. He crumpled the piece of paper on which he’d drunkenly scrawled ‘Spike luvs Xander’, going so far as to dot the ‘i’ with a heart, and tossed it back onto the bed.

When he pulled into the parking lot and slid into his reserved spot, his first thought was that he wasn’t ready to confront Anya. His second, that he’d probably lost the deposit on his tuxedo. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands, working up the nerve to go up there and see her.

“She’s not there,” someone said directly into his ear.

Xander screamed like a girl. His head twisted around and his whole body jerked while his heart dropped to his stomach and then slammed back into place. “Good...god...Buffy!” He rubbed his chest. He’d been so tense, he thought he pulled something. And he now knew how you could literally scare someone to death.

She looked him over critically. “You look craptastic.”

“Thanks.” He glanced back at the apartment building. “How do you know she’s not in there?” he asked worriedly. “Some Slayer superpower?”

“Yeah.” Buffy pointed to her eyes. “I saw her working at the Magic Box with my x-ray vision. And heard her with my supersensitive hearing. She said something about the smell of money making her feel better.”

“Oh.” That meant he had a bit of a reprieve.

“Plus, she moved out,” Buffy added.

“Oh. She did? How do...?”

“I got to help!” she replied with faked cheer. “Because, she reminded me, several times, that she’d helped me move into my dorm room, and then back home a week later. A year and a half ago,” Buffy added dryly.

Xander winced. Anya’s tact left a lot to be desired. It was one of the things he’d loved about her. Funny how the two women he’d dated had both been outspoken and blunt. Just like Spike.... “Ack, no!”

“Xander? Are you all right?” Buffy asked worriedly.

Xander ignored the question. “You’re sure? That she’s gone, I mean?” That gave him even more of a reprieve, which was good, but it also meant that he had more time to stew and put off seeing her, which would probably only make things worse, so, bad.

“Positive.”

“And she’s really not coming back?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s not, if the tears and curses are any indication. That girl really knows how to curse!” Buffy sounded impressed.

“Yeah, she can swear with the best of them,” Xander agreed distractedly.

“No, I mean real curses, like boils-on-penis curses,” Buffy corrected much too casually for Xander’s peace of mind as she unlocked the car door and opened it.

“Curses?” he yelped, one hand going protectively to his groin while he watched Buffy press the button that put his window up.

“Thank your lucky stars that she’s not still a vengeance demon,” Buffy said as she pulled Xander from the car. “She has quite the imagination, our Anya,” she added, sounding way too impressed.

“What? She can’t do that! Can she? Isn’t that cheating?” His legs were still a bit wobbly and he stumbled. Buffy steadied him, and then grimaced.

“You smell like a distillery.”

“I was on a mission,” Xander responded.

“To drink every bottle of liquor in Sunnydale?”

“To for-forget.” He sniffled and wiped his eyes. God, he couldn’t cry now. Not in front of Buffy.

“Xan—.”

“Can we not talk about this now?” he interrupted.

“Sure, but when you need to....”

“Yeah, thanks, Buff.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Really, I will. Just...not now. I can’t....” He lost the battle against the tears he’d been fighting back. “My life sucks! Everything’s all screwed up!”

Buffy held him while he cried like a big girl, and then took his keys and locked the car up before leading him to his apartment.

Despite being plied with aspirin and water before being put to bed, Xander woke up with a splitting headache. Buffy had offered to return his tux—which she’d picked up as if it had been dipped in a toxic chemical—and see if she could get his deposit back. She also offered to let everyone know he’d returned home safely. Xander wasn’t sure he was ready for that, but his friends didn’t deserve to worry about him unnecessarily, and so he didn’t say anything.

He rolled over and blindly reached for the glass of water Buffy had left on his bedside table. He drank half down in one go and finished the rest with the two aspirin lying there. He’d drunk enough to dehydrate a football team, and he was feeling it. Xander took a moment to thank Buffy for thinking to close the curtains against the bright morning sunlight before burrowing back under the pillows.

The next time he woke up, Xander felt almost human. He staggered to the bathroom and splashed his face before cupping water into his hand to drink. His mouth was dry and tasted like a sewer. He brushed his teeth while he stood over the toilet, and then examined his reflection in the mirror above the sink while the water heated for his shower. His face was pale with dark circles around bloodshot eyes, and his lips were chapped. Even after a full night of sleeping it off, he still looked like hell. He combed his fingers through his hair and wished he could fix his life as easily as he could wash away the effects of his three-day drunk.

Showered and dressed, Xander looked through his cupboards for something to eat that wouldn’t make his stomach revolt. He considered a bowl of cereal until he got a whiff of the milk. That meant no PB&J sandwich, either. Keeping his sensitive stomach in mind, he settled for washing a granola bar down with a glass of water.

He sat on the couch and stared out the sliding glass doors. There were things he needed to do, but he wanted to put off facing reality as long as he could. He wondered if he could just stay holed up here in his apartment until next Monday when he needed to be back to work. He didn’t want to have to face Anya or his friends. He most definitely didn’t want to face Spike.

The memory of the vision made his stomach churn. He briefly wondered if some hair of the dog was in order, then resolved that was a slippery path he really did not want to start down. He knew he needed to speak with Anya before anyone else so he could clear the air with her, apologize, beg her to forgive him and please not curse his genitals, and he preferred to do it without an audience, so he decided to go to the Magic Box and get that over with. He swallowed hard. Yep, anytime now he’d get up and do that.

The interior of the Magic Box was cool and dim. He heard the soft murmur of Giles’s voice as he discussed the merits of eye of newt versus a less expensive substitute. Xander looked around for Anya, but didn’t see her. She wasn’t standing behind the cash register as he’d expected. He walked slowly down the steps, heart pounding at what was sure to be an unpleasant meeting.

Anya suddenly bustled up from the basement. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said breathlessly, as if she’d rushed after hearing the door bell jingle, and set the box of inventory she’d retrieved down on the counter without looking up. “How can I help...” She glanced up at him. “...you?”

Xander waved nervously. “Hey.”

“Xander.” Her voice was cold, pinched, and he could tell she was trying to hide her pain.

Giles’ voice paused briefly before continuing.

“Anya. Can we talk?” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his pants.

“About what? Because I’m not taking you back after you left me at the altar in front of our family and friends, Xander,” she declared.

Xander’s mind boggled. He knew it would be dangerous to tell her that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, so scrambled to think of a reply that would keep his privates boil-free.

“You’re right to feel that way,” he said truthfully. “What I did was...unforgivable. But I hope you’ll be able to forgive me one day, anyway.” Anya looked away from him and sniffled. He swallowed hard and continued. “I know it doesn’t make it any easier, but I never intended to hurt you. And I’m sorry that I did.” He’d broken into a fearful sweat. “Please don’t curse me!” he begged.

“I’m very angry with you, Xander,” Anya stated.

“I know.” He just hoped she wasn’t angry enough for the boils. Or worse!

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

Her eyes were downcast. “I don’t know if I can, Xander. I need time to think....”

“Time, yes, okay. As much time as you need!”

“Being human sucks.”

Xander didn’t know what to say to that. He just hoped it didn’t mean she was wishing for her vengeance powers back.

“Excuse me,” Giles said, interrupting them. “Anya, Mrs. Culver is ready to check out. Can you...?”

“Of course!” Anya quickly said, hiding her pain behind a mask. Nothing got her moving faster than Giles suggesting he might go near the cash register.

“Xander,” Giles greeted him softly.

Xander glanced up at the other man. “Hey, G-man,” he responded, subdued.

“How are you?”

“Fine,” he replied.

Giles stared at him thoughtfully. “Hmmm,” he finally said. “Why don’t I make a cup of tea and you can tell me how you really are?”

“No, really, I’m fine,” Xander assured him as he followed Giles to the back of the shop. “I just.... How has Anya been?”

“How do you expect?” Giles asked, pausing in his tea-making.

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” Xander sighed.

“Are you ready to talk about why you called off the wedding?”

“No!” Xander yelped.

Giles raised an eyebrow at him. “Anya said something about a demon and a vision?”

“Oh.” Xander strove to slow his breathing and racing heart. “Yeah, that. Someone Anya had cursed during her vengeance demon days decided to repay the favor. It was, um, horrible,” he said. “I know it was a lie, but it felt so real.” Tears filled his eyes. “And I was afraid. What if that’s really my future?” he asked hopelessly, images of the second vision running through his mind like a slide show. The Spike and Xander from the vision laughing together, holding hands, kissing, and, heaven help him, making love. He wasn’t lying to Giles when he said it had been horrible.

Giles was rubbing his shoulder and speaking to him softly, but Xander didn’t hear the words. For a moment he floundered. He turned into Giles and rested his forehead on the other man’s shoulder. Giles lifted Xander’s head and looked into his eyes. “But the one thing I do believe, Xander, is that you will never turn out like your father. It’s just not in you.”

After his brief talks with Anya and Giles, Xander needed to get some air. He decided to drive over to UC Sunnydale and see if he could find Willow after her last class of the day. He realized he had some time to kill, so after parking he walked around the campus. It was a cool, brisk day, but that only served to help clear his mind. When Willow exited the red brick building, Xander was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.

“Xander!” she greeted him with a smile, her voice holding equal measures of pleased surprise and concern. “Buffy said you were back. I’m glad you’re all right. What are you doing here?” she babbled as she grabbed his hand and continued down the sidewalk, pulling him away from the other students congregating near the entrance.

Xander shrugged. “Thought maybe we could talk,” he said, not really knowing what else to say. Or what exactly he’d tell her about what had happened. He just couldn’t see himself admitting to anyone that he’d been shown a vision about Spike. Even worse that the vision had him and Spike living ‘happily ever after’ and that it had freaked him out so much he’d called off the wedding. Yeah, he could imagine how well that would go over.

She led him to a bench and they both sat. He stared at his feet, and found himself wondering who did the lawn maintenance. He looked up and actually opened his mouth to ask that question, though he doubted Willow would know the answer, and saw her staring at him with big green eyes full of worry. She tried to smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

“Sorry I worried you,” he said, ducking his head and fixing his eyes on the tips of his worn sneakers.

There was a pause and he imagined all sorts of platitudes running through her head. Finally she said, “I’m just glad you’re okay. I mean, physically okay. ‘Cause it’s okay if you’re not emotionally okay. If you know what I mean,” she trailed off.

“Anya tell you about the vision?” he asked, figuring it was a safe bet that she had.

Willow nodded slowly. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“No.” Xander shook his head. “Not really. I mean, it was all a lie anyway, right? Not real. We wouldn’t have turned out like my parents.”

“Xander,” she said, her tone sympathetic. She reached out and took his hand. “You know Anya and I weren’t...” She made a face. “...the best of friends. But you and she seemed to get along. It was like, you got her. I didn’t get her, but you did. I don’t think you would have turned out like your father, because you’re you. Plus, Anya wouldn’t have let you.”

Willow tried to grin, so Xander tried it too. It felt tight. Like it didn’t fit his face.

“It was a lie, right?” he asked, and he knew he sounded pitiful.

“Yeah, it was a lie. I’m so sorry that demon used you to hurt Anya. If I could, I’d turn him into a nasty ol’ frog for ya!”

The smile felt more natural this time. “Thanks, Will.”

Xander felt anxious as the time for meeting the gang at the Magic Box neared. They all knew he was back, and he’d spoken to each of them, except Dawn, but, awkward much? The wedding-that-wasn’t was going to be like the pink elephant in the corner of the room that everyone would pretend not to see. That is, if Anya was even there. Would she still attend research sessions and help them patrol? he suddenly wondered.

Xander pushed the door open with his butt, his hands full of peace offerings—donuts and lattes—and was greeted by a squeal from Dawn. “Xander! Buffy said you were back, but I wasn’t gonna believe it until I saw you for myself.” She skipped towards him.

“Doubting Dawn,” he teased.

She wrinkled her nose and smiled at him. “Oooh, donuts! Here, let me help you carry those.” She grabbed the box of donuts and he changed his grip so he didn’t drop the drinks.

“Hey, Xan!” Buffy called as she stepped into the shop from the training room. “What did ya bring?”

“Stupid Slayer senses,” Dawn muttered, and then said louder, “Donuts, but I get first pick.”

Giles appeared out of the training room and Willow arrived shortly thereafter. A surreptitious look around told him that Anya wasn’t there. They all settled around the research table, eating, drinking, and discussing what it was they should be researching. Everyone tiptoed around the topic of the disastrous wedding. And then the door slammed open and Spike strode in as if he owned the place.

“Well, well, well,” he said as he sauntered down the steps, “if it isn’t the missing groom.”

“Shut up, Spike,” everyone hissed.

Xander didn’t speak. He couldn’t move. His back was to the vampire, but he’d felt the energy in the shop change when he entered, as if he’d been near an electric charge. Instead of grating on his last nerve, the sound of Spike’s voice had sent shivers down his spine. The vision spun through his head and he felt like he was having a flashback. The moment seemed to play out forever for Xander, but when he looked up, Spike had just reached the table, his duster still swirling about his legs.

“If I can’t make fun of Harris, my night is ruined,” he commented theatrically. “Got any beasties I can kill instead?” He clenched both hands into fists and grunted, adding a little hip roll.

Xander’s eyes rolled back in his head and he got hard.

Xander was mortified. In fact, he’d been living in a constant state of mortification since last night. Buffy had coolly blown Spike off, which Xander found odd, since it had seemed for a while there that Spike was Buffy’s new best friend, always off patrolling together, trusting the vampire to protect her sister.... Okay, oddly enough, that sounded like jealousy talking. But was he jealous of Spike...or Buffy? That did not bear thinking about.

He’d remained hard for a full thirty minutes after the vampire left the shop. No one knew, but he was still considering jumping off his balcony to save himself from the distress he was experiencing. Except the fall would probably only maim him, rather than kill him, and he really didn’t want to deal with the pain, the traction, the embarrassment of not being able to do even that right. So no one could ever find out that the sound of Spike’s voice had aroused him, and the sight of the vampire pumping his hips as he grunted had made him hard. No one. And he had to stop thinking about it. Which he would do. Any time now.

Not wanting to think about Spike, or Anya, Xander considered vegging in front of the television until research that night, but then he took a good look at the apartment. It wasn’t trashed, exactly, but there had been a lot of people in and out before the wedding, and then Anya had packed, leaving things in a bit of disarray. He decided to expend his energy in a positive way by cleaning the apartment. Plus, he hoped it would keep him from thinking about Spike.

Once the apartment was spic and span, he’d taken a shower and a short nap, and then put on the baggiest pair of pants he owned before heading to the Magic Box. Looking like a hand-me-down reject was less embarrassing than the thought that he might get an erection he couldn’t hide. To Xander’s relief, Spike didn’t show up for research that night, and if he felt a twinge of disappointment he told himself it was heartburn.

By the time Monday rolled around Xander was feeling more himself. He felt like his life was his again, rather than fitting him like a secondhand coat. Things had gotten back to normal—lunch with Buffy Friday before she had to go to work, movies snuggled up with Willow on his couch Saturday night, research and patrol, and playing cards with Dawn over top the books they were supposed to be using for research on Sunday. He was glad to be going back to work, though he knew he’d probably take some razzing from the guys about calling off the wedding.

A week had gone by since he’d returned home, and Xander had only seen Spike twice. He was feeling pretty proud of himself when he went to the Magic Box that night, only to find himself in the middle of battle preparations. Willow was tapping away at her laptop, and she stopped only long enough to give him a small smile. Giles was standing over Buffy in the training room, reading a passage from one of his books aloud while she pulled weapons out of the chest and made sure they were sharp.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Demon,” Buffy replied.

As that looked like all the information he was going to get, he asked, “What can I do?”

“Find the sheath for that sword.” Buffy pointed, and then looked up at him and gave him a weary smile. “And then we wait for Giles to tell me how to kill it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Before Giles figured out how to kill it, Spike burst through the door to announce that there was not one, but three demons marauding about Sunnydale.

Buffy turned expectantly towards her watcher. “Giles?”

Giles didn’t fluster at the startling information, merely flipped one of his books open to the page he’d marked and turned it so Spike could see the image. “From Buffy’s description I’ve determined that the demon was probably a Gor’lak, but the picture doesn’t match the demon she saw. Did you recognize them?”

Spike barely glanced at the picture. “They were Gor’lak.” He tapped the image of a dark green-skinned demon sprouting two long, curved horns from its skull with his index finger. “This one’s a mature adult. Can tell by the color and size of its horns. The three I saw were young. Probably visiting the Hellmouth for their harsh’na.”

“A coming of age ritual,” Giles breathed. “Of course.”

“Giles?” Buffy reminded him of the urgency.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, well, the usual. Decapitation, a sword through their heart...”

“Which is on the right side,” Spike added as he moved quickly towards the front of the shop, an axe in his hand that Xander hadn’t even seen him grab. “Comin’, Slayer?”

Buffy glared at Spike, and then armed herself.

“They’re going to be ferocious, Buffy,” Giles warned her. “They’ve come to the Hellmouth to prove they’re men now...er, or rather, the demon equivalent of the human adult male, not that.... Anyway, killing a Slayer would certainly be a boon, so do be careful.”

“I will Giles,” she said distractedly. Buffy looked at him when he got up to stand beside her, weapon in hand. “Xander....”

“I’m going with,” he forestalled her objection. There was no way he was letting Buffy go out there without more than Spike backing her up. Or so he told himself.

Spike was pacing the sidewalk impatiently, a cigarette between his fingers. “‘Bout time!” he complained when they stepped out of the Magic Box. He ran frosty eyes over Xander. “Bringin’ a chaperone?”

“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy hissed, and began walking. “Where did you see the demons?”

Spike glared at Xander. “Try to keep up, Harris,” he snarked as he turned away and followed Buffy. “And out of the way. Got better things ta do than babysit you.”

Xander wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he was being left behind. He ran after them, catching up in time to hear the tale end of Spike’s brush with the demons. He tried to concentrate on walking, rather than on the vampire stalking through Sunnydale before him.

Spike led them to where he’d run into the Gor’lak. They were no longer there, but Xander could tell that they had been. He shuddered at the headless body of a demon laying on the blood-soaked ground. “Wh-what happened?” he asked.

“Took a trophy, didn’t they?” Spike said with a smirk at Xander’s obvious discomfort. He turned away and scented the air, and they followed him as he followed the trail of the three Gor’lak.

They stumbled across two more fresh kills before finding the young Gor’lak in the middle of collecting their fourth trophy. One Gor’lak stood tall, twisting its big head around to stare at them. Their leathery hide was a light green color and their horns were just little nubs on the top of their skulls, which is why Buffy and Giles had trouble finding a match in Giles’ books.

It gnashed its teeth and snarled something to its fellow demons in a language Xander didn’t recognize as it eyed up Spike. Could’ve been a demon tongue, or Latin for all he knew. The demon then turned to Buffy and its visage took on an expression of excitement that seemed to indicate he’d recognized her as the Slayer. It finally turned its attention on Xander, something he could have done without. It roared, and though he couldn’t understand the words, he was pretty certain it had just said something along the lines of, ‘Dust the vampire, kill the Slayer and take her head, and that one’s for dinner.’

Spike didn’t wait for the demons to make the first move, and soon he and Buffy were trading blows with them. None of the demons carried weapons except for the bloody daggers they’d obviously used to messily decapitate their victims. Xander stood with the short sword he carried clenched in his hand and watched for an opening.

Buffy fought with economical movements, striking with deliberate, practiced moves. Spike, on the other hand, was like a whirlwind. He fought with a flourish that reminded Xander of a dance; slashing, leaping, and then twirling to slash again. One of the demons landed a blow that Buffy hadn’t been able to block, and the strength of it knocked her to her knees. While she was catching her breath the demon prepared to strike.

Xander jumped forward, bringing the sword around with both hands, and slashed the demon’s softer hide over its belly. The demon howled its displeasure and brought its arm around, preparing to strike a blow that would have crushed Xander’s skull. Just before the blow landed, Spike’s axe whistled through the air and cut the arm off above the elbow. After a moment of not realizing its arm was missing, the demon wailed mournfully.

Xander, who’d still been struck by the demon’s blow, landed on his ass, the demon’s twitching hand in his lap. With a little shudder and a disgusted whimper, he tossed the arm away from himself, and then crab crawled away from it. He looked up in time to see Spike gleefully hacking at two of the demons while Buffy handled the third.

Despite his brush with death and being totally grossed out by the arm leaking a purplish-colored ichor that stunk to high heaven, Xander couldn’t take his eyes off the beauty that was Spike during a fight. The vampire was nimble, graceful, and he was talking the entire time he fought. Xander couldn’t help but once more compare Spike’s moves to a dance. He slowly got to his knees and found the sword he’d dropped when he went flying, just in case his meager assistance was needed again.

Suddenly the fight was over; all three demons lay dead at their feet. Knees. Spike was laughing as if he’d just had the greatest fun. There was blood on his chin, and he reached up, wiping some off with his thumb, and then bringing the thumb to his mouth. Xander watched Spike lick his thumb, and then stick it into his mouth and suck on it.

Instead of disgust, he felt a warm tingle between his thighs that spread to the rest of his body, and was thankful he’d worn the really baggy pants tonight. When Xander remained frozen in place, Buffy came over and helped him stand, thinking he was more injured than he was. Xander had an hysterical moment when he wondered what he’d say if she noticed his hard-on. Thankfully, he wasn’t tested, and they made it back to the Magic Box with no further incidents.

On Friday night Xander met Willow and Buffy at The Bronze. Dawn was spending the night with Tara, and Buffy thought it would be good to get Willow out of the house so she didn’t mope. After taking a turn on the dance floor, he returned to their table for a well-deserved drink, leaving the two girls gyrating to the loud music without him. He wasn’t sure where either of them got their energy from. He lounged back in his seat and nearly choked on his beer when he saw Spike strut in.

Despite the black-on-black look, Spike reminded him of Danny from the movie ‘Grease’. He couldn’t take his eyes off the vampire, watching avidly as he pushed his way to the bar, leaned both elbows on it, and ordered a drink, coolly brushing off the people around him who tried to strike up a conversation.

Xander hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep since the botched wedding, and he was in no mood to see Spike. He’d thought, a little drinking, good times with friends, boogieing with his girls.... His plans for the evening had not included pretending to ignore Spike while he soaked up the vampire’s presence.

Spike shouldered his way through the crowd with equal parts charm and snark, and made his way to the pool tables across The Bronze. He approached a large bear of a man who was leaning on his pool stick as he watched another man take his shot, and they greeted each other with an elaborate handshake. Spike pulled a handful of quarters from his jeans pocket and lined them up on the edge of the table, and then proceeded to chat and drink until it was his turn to play.

Xander couldn’t pull his eyes away from Spike, who he’d never seen like this before—he was actually enjoying himself, and he wasn’t killing anything! The only people he knew Spike hung with was, well, them, but they’d made it pretty clear they didn’t want him around. He shouldn’t be surprised then, that the vampire had found other things to do, made other friends. What? Had he really expected that Spike sat alone in his crypt just waiting until they needed him?

The girls came back and they chatted for a while, but Xander’s attention drifted back to the pool tables where Spike was leaning one hip against the table, cue stick held between his legs as he flirted with the waitress who was handing him another beer. He watched Spike’s eyes slide over the waitress’s body when she turned to walk away, and then he smirked when the guy he’d originally spoken with slapped him on the back and mouthed something Xander couldn’t hear.

“We’ve gotten our second wind, so we’re going back out,” Buffy said as she and Willow stood. “Join us?”

“Oh. No, thanks,” Xander said, whipping his head back around. “You go ahead. I’ll just veg here for a few minutes. Crowd watch. Drink. Contemplate my idiocy,” he added when he realized he was starting to babble.

“No contemplating tonight, Xander!” Buffy admonished with a smile and a waggle of her finger.

“Okay, nix that one,” he agreed, feeling a little punchy. “Just drinking and watching, then.” He forced his eyes to stay on the girls until they’d turned away and disappeared into the teeming mass of bodies. For the hell of it, and to show that he wasn’t completely under Spike’s spell, he took a drink of the beer warming in his plastic cup before turning his head slowly, deliberately, towards the pool tables.

Spike had moved away from the table to give his opponent room to shoot. He raised the beer to his mouth, tilted his head back, and took a swig. Xander reached beneath the table to adjust himself while he watched the vampire’s throat work as he swallowed, watched the way his lips fit around the mouth of the bottle as he pulled the beer out of it.

“Oh, god,” he groaned.

Spike turned, looked the pool table over, and then set the bottle down on the edge. He bent over and lined up his shot, then shifted his legs. Xander was breathing heavily, and he forced himself to look away. Christ, what was wrong with him? Despite the stupid vision, he didn’t even like Spike. He glanced back over to see Spike prowling around the table as he picked his next shot. He imagined the vampire circling him that way, predator and prey, and moaned.

“You all right, Xander?” Buffy asked.

Xander’s focus immediately rocketed back to the table where Buffy and Willow were just pulling out their chairs. “Uh, yeah,” he said, picking up his cup and draining it to have something to do with his hand. “You’re back quick. I was, um, just thinking I should have gotten a refill before you got back.” He gestured towards the empty pitcher with his equally empty cup.

“Oh. That’s no problem.” Buffy looked around. “There’s the waitress. I’ll go order.”

“Oh, hey!” Willow said as Buffy slipped away. “Did you know Spike was here?”

“Really? Where?” Xander asked, his voice coming out strangled.

Xander was in Hell. Not just Hell, but the deepest, fiery pits of Hell. The whole evening was a blur, and all he could remember was bits and pieces, mostly having to do with Spike. As the evening drew to a close, he watched surreptitiously as Spike left the pool tables and headed over to the dance floor. Xander had felt the heat before, but now it ratcheted up to inferno.

Spike bounded onto the dance floor without a partner, but he wasn’t alone for long. He set himself up in the middle of the floor and women flocked to him like moths to the flame. Xander didn’t know if the queasy feeling in his gut was fear that they were going to get burned, or jealousy because he wasn’t.

The vampire almost looked like he was putting on a show for someone, and Xander’s chest clenched in a moment of panic, thinking that Spike had noticed him looking. He realized that was ridiculous—even if Spike saw him looking, he wouldn’t think there was anything sexual in it—and took advantage of the view he had.

Buffy returned with a full pitcher and refilled their glasses. Xander gulped half of his down. When he looked back up, Spike was getting down and dirty with a redhead who had short, spiky hair and who was wearing a white leather vest with nothing under it. Xander started choking on his beer when a man with a shaved head, a tattoo on his biceps, and a hoop in his ear stepped up behind Spike and cupped his ass.

He waved off Willow and Buffy’s concern and pretended to listen to their conversation while he stole glances at the dance floor. Watery eyes grew wide when the man slid his hands around to Spike’s hips and moved into him until ass met groin. Xander expected Spike to haul off and hit the guy, and then remembered the chip. But the vampire didn’t even pull away and snarl. Instead, Spike leaned back into the touch and pulled the girl with him, and then tilted his head back and said something that made the man laugh and the girl blush as they both looked her over.

Xander whimpered and grabbed himself to keep from shooting in his jeans. He didn’t know if it was the fact that Spike wasn’t adverse to getting up close and personal with another guy, the image his mind conjured up of the girl and guy making a Spike sandwich, or the way Spike’s face lit up when he smiled. The same way he’d smiled at Xander in his vision.

“I, um, I need to get going,” he squeaked. There was no way he could sit here and watch Spike dance, or worse, imagine him naked, without blowing his load. “L-long day. Tired. Can I give you girls a ride home, or do you want to hang?”

Buffy checked Xander’s watch. “I should patrol,” she sighed. “Can you give Will a ride home?”

“Sure.” He smiled at Willow, who smiled back a little tipsily.

Xander barely remembered dropping Willow off, or the drive to his apartment. He raced up the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator. As soon as the door was shut and locked behind him, Xander fell back against it, opened his pants, and wrapped his fingers around his hard and aching cock. The memories of Spike tonight at The Bronze mingled with his memories from the vision, sliding sinuously against one another as they created a slide show in his mind.

Xander stroked himself harder and faster as images of Spike swirled through his head—bending over the pool table, kissing him, drinking a beer, smiling at him, dancing with the tattooed man’s hands on his ass, draped over Xander’s back as he slid into him.... His legs gave out and he slid down the door to his knees, thighs spread as he pulled himself to completion, spilling his release over his hand and the floor.

Part Two

Xander wasn’t able to sleep. He’d been physically exhausted after the romp with his right hand, but he just couldn’t shut his mind off. Couldn’t stop thinking about Spike, about the vision. He was aroused and disgusted at the same time. The visions weren’t real. The demon had admitted that. But the seed had been planted.

He was so confused! If one vision the demon had shown him was a lie, then ergo the other had to be a lie, too, right? Even if the second, happy vision had planted a stupid seed in his psyche, there was absolutely no soil for it to take root in. He knew why the vision of his miserable future with Anya had thrown him—there’d already been a niggling doubt about whether he was good husband and father material—but he’d never had any doubts about his sexuality—he was not gay—and even if he was, which he wasn’t, he hated Spike. How could he possibly be indulging in sexual fantasies about the vampire?

When he couldn’t get Spike off his mind, even after having gotten off, Xander began to wonder if the demon hadn’t done something more than show him a phony version of his future. Two faked versions. The demon had to have done something to him, something to make him desire Spike—maybe that stupid light from that even stupider orb had done something to him, because the alternative just didn’t bear thinking about.

Ironic, that, since he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about Spike. The sexy bastard! Argh! Xander buried his head in his pillow and kicked his feet into the mattress as he let loose a muffled scream of frustration. His mini-tantrum over, he threw himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. There was no reason to remain in bed when he was only tossing and turning. He wasn’t able to make sense of this on his own, and after last night, he really needed to figure out what was going on.

It was relatively easy to make the decision to seek help, not so much to actually go through with it when that meant admitting to the second vision the demon had shown him. He’d showered and dressed, and then stopped for coffee and donuts on his way to the Summers’ house. On the way, he’d parked and watched the sun rise while he sipped coffee and ate one of the donuts. He now sat on their front steps, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door.

Long before he was ready, the door opened behind him. “Xander?” Willow called softly.

“Hey. I brought donuts,” he said, sliding the box across the porch floor with the tips of his fingers without looking back at her.

“Oh, yum.” She padded across the porch, picked up the box, and settled herself beside him. She opened the box and peered in. “How long have you been out here?” she asked, presumably when she saw that four donuts were already missing.

“Couple hours,” he said, reaching in and snagging another.

“Wow. I guess I’m impressed there’re any left, then.” She took one out and bit into it. “How come you’re up so early?” she asked around a mouthful of donut.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said as he handed her one of the cups of coffee. “I got coffee, too. It’s probably cold now.”

Willow took a sip and grimaced. “No, it’s, um, fine,” she lied.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “You get extra points for bringing donuts. And not eating them all.”

He gave a little laugh.

“What’s wrong, Xander?” she asked when she’d finished the donut and he still hadn’t spoken.

“I’ve got....” He picked at his pants. “I’ve got a problem. I’ve been trying to work it out myself, but...I’m not having any luck. I need...I think I just need to tell someone, maybe get it off my chest. And maybe, if I need some help researching...?”

Willow tried to look perky, but it was too early in the morning after a night out, and she was probably too worried about him for it to be convincing. “If you need research, I’m your gal!”

He didn’t know where to start, how to say what he needed to tell her. “Do you remember the demon?” he asked. “At the wedding?”

Willow shuddered. “Gray, yellow spikes?” She pointed to her head.

“Yeah, that one. I think...I think he did something to me.”

Willow’s expression became one of worry, and she reached out to grip his arm. “Xander, what...?”

“I’m all right,” he assured her. “Well, I’m physically all right,” he amended. “But you know...the vision?”

“Yeah.” Willow nodded, her fingers squeezing his arm as she tried to remain calm.

“He showed me how miserable our future was going to be. How miserable I was going to make it. And I just...I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t right, even though he admitted that it hadn’t been real.” Xander shook his head. God, just talking about it made him feel queasy.

“Do you...do you think he lied about it being fake?” Willow asked.

“No.” He laughed bitterly. “I believe the vision he showed me was fake, but I...I think it could have still happened that way. I think I could have ruined her life. But that’s.... Oddly enough, that’s not the worst part.”

“Okay,” Willow said, supportive, encouraging him to continue.

“H-he showed me two visions,” Xander spit out quickly.

“He wha—? He showed you two visions?” Willow’s face crinkled up as she tried to figure out what that meant.

“Yes,” Xander said slowly, partly because he really needed her to understand this, and partly because it was difficult for him to say aloud. “He showed me the vision of my future with Anya, the one where I made her....”

“Miserable,” Willow supplied.

Xander tried to smile, but his face felt too tight. “Yeah.”

“A-and another one where...?” Willow prompted.

“Where I was happy. Where we were both so...damned...happy.”

“You and Anya?” Willow asked, confused.

“No, me and...someone else.”

“S-someone else?”

“Yes. It, um, it confused me,” he said. “A lot. And I think I need another donut.” Willow absently opened the box for him and he reached for a chocolate glazed this time.

“Two visions,” she mused. “So, what, um, what was it about the second vision that confused you?” she asked.

“I couldn’t believe that I could be that happy. I don’t know how, but I felt everything while I was in that vision, and I was...I was in love.” Tears welled-up. “The first vision was...wretched, but the second vision was...distressingly happy. I knew! I mean I just knew that it wasn’t true, that it couldn’t possibly be true, but I could still feel it. Here.” He pointed to his heart. “And it really freaked me out.”

“Why?” Willow asked softly. “Why would it freak you out to see yourself happy with someone?”

“Because I hate him! I could never love him!” Xander cried, and then his eyes went wide when he realized what he’d admitted to.

“H-h-him?” Willow stammered.

Xander buried his face in his hands. “Yes.”

“So...you were freaked because it was a guy?” she guessed.

Xander raised his head and looked at her. “Oddly enough, no. I was so freaked about the other, that part didn’t even register on the freak-o-meter.”

“The other being...who it was?” Another tentative guess. Xander nodded. “And you’re not going to tell me who it was, are you?” she asked.

“No! I mean, I just can’t. I can’t even think about it without becoming nauseous. Also, hard, but that’s neither here nor there....” Willow blushed. “Sorry. Too much information?” he asked.

“Maybe just a teensy bit,” she squeaked. And then her eyes widened and she stared at Xander with huge green orbs.

“What?” he asked worriedly.

“Angel?” she gasped.

“What? Oh good god, no! That’s....” He shuddered. It felt as if bugs were crawling all over him. “I can’t believe you said that!” he hissed. “That’s just...too disgusting for words!”

“Sorry.” Willow looked contrite. “It’s just, I don’t know anyone you hate more than Angel, so....” She shrugged apologetically. “What did you want me to do? I mean, if you won’t tell me who it is....”

“I need you to help me find out if the demon could have done something to me. Something to...to make me want things I wouldn’t normally want,” he explained.

Willow’s eyebrows went up. “Want?” she asked.

It was Xander’s turn to blush. “There have been some...incidents,” he admitted, without admitting to anything.

“The hard thing,” she said calmly, as if she was working on one of her psyche test cases.

“Yes. And...other...stuff.”

“So, you....”

“Yes,” he snarled. “I-I-I think about him. I hate him, but I can’t help....”

“Getting...hard?”

He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him. Instead, just to prove he was really in Hell, he was left sitting on the porch with Willow, discussing his attraction to another man. Bad enough he’d given away the male thing, thank god he hadn’t slipped and told her who it was. It was just...unnatural that he’d have these feelings for Spike of all people. Evil undead sexy bastard!

“So, what, um, what do you want me to do, exactly?”

“Research the demon, see if he had any other powers, see if the orb had any other powers. Do you know what happened to the orb? Was it on him when I...when...?”

“When you clobbered him with the pedestal?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t remember seeing it. I could ask Buffy....”

“No! I-I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea to let too many people know about this. I could barely tell you, I couldn’t bear to tell anyone else.”

“I guess that means I can’t just ask Anya what kind of demon she turned him into, then, can I?”

Xander’s eyes widened in horror. “No!”

Willow and Xander researched during every spare moment, which wasn’t a lot after taking into account work, school, normal research, and patrol. Xander found he didn’t like it any better when he was doing it for himself than he did when they were researching the demon of the week. On day five, Willow finally found a reference to the demon that not only included a detailed description of its appearance along with a pencil drawing and its name, but also a list of its abilities. Under magical it said ‘none.’

Xander was disappointed, but refused to believe the demon had done nothing but show him a phony vision until they found the orb and discovered its properties, which he was certain would include making the person who saw the vision believe that it was true. Then a little disbelieving spell and, viola!, no more sexual fantasies about sexy, er, stupid vampires.

On day eight Xander found the orb mentioned in a book he’d been given to research the newest resident of the Hellmouth so Buffy could dispatch it. He nearly vibrated out of his skin when he recognized it, and must have made a sound, because everyone looked up at him.

“Did you find something, Xander?” Giles asked.

He knew he must have looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Um, no?” he squeaked. “Nothing about the demon,” he added, glancing over at Willow. Her eyes widened, and he nodded.

“All right!” Anya slammed the book she was reading closed. She’d been helping them research ‘because I have to live here, too,’ but made it clear she wasn’t happy to be in the same room with Xander. Now she glared daggers at him, pain and anger shooting from her eyes. “Are you two seeing each other?” she demanded, pointing between him and Willow.

“What?” he yelped.

“What?” Willow squeaked.

“Her?”

“Hey!” Willow socked him.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arm. “I just meant....” He waved his hands in the space between them. “Friends. No getting together.” He turned to Anya. “No! Why would you...?”

“I’ve seen you,” Anya replied. “Always together. Exchanging meaningful looks.”

“No! Nothing meaningful here!”

Willow socked him again. “We’re best friends, just as we’ve always been. Nothing more,” she told Anya.

“Ow,” he muttered, rubbing the spot she’d hit twice.

“Then why...?”

“It’s just that we’ve got more time for each other now that...we, um...we’re both...you know....”

“Single?” Anya grated out.

“Um, yeah, that,” Willow said, looking at Xander and gesturing for him to say something.

“And whose fault is that?” Anya yelled as she pushed herself to her feet.

Xander should have seen that coming, but he’d been sidetracked, and things had gotten out of control so quickly. With other things on his mind, he’d forgotten that Anya had never actually had the opportunity to vent her spleen about being left at the altar. He silently berated himself. He should have realized that things had been going too smoothly. Before he could respond, Spike spoke up and fanned the flames.

“Funny thing, fault,” he drawled. “Might lay at the feet of the one who did the walkin’...” He glanced at Xander and Anya made a sound of agreement. “...or it might lay with the one who set it all in motion in the first place.” His eyes moved to Anya.

Xander blanched. He could see that it took a moment for Anya to realize what Spike was implying, but when she did, her face turned red.

“No!” She slapped her palms down onto the table. “No! It was not my fault!” She spun away from the table, her hands covering her face, shoulders shaking.

“Damn it, Spike!” At times like these he knew without a doubt that the demon had done something to him to make him desire the despicable creature.

“Shut up, Spike!” Buffy and Willow both hissed.

Xander stood and went to Anya, slapping the back of Spike’s head as he passed the vampire.

“Hey!” he groused. “The thanks I get for sticking up for you,” he threw at Xander. “Oh, don’t tell me you all weren’t thinkin’ it,” he told the others.

“Anya,” Xander said softly, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, almost afraid she’d knock them off, or turn around and punch him. Instead he felt her shoulders shudder as she sobbed.

She turned to him and lowered her hands so they were just covering her trembling lips. Tears coursed down her face. “It was my fault, wasn’t it?” she asked pitifully.

“No!” Xander said, pulling her into his arms and cursing Spike beneath his breath. “All my fault. None of it was your fault. You were the best girlfriend a guy could have.” He rubbed her back.

“I was, wasn’t I?” she sniffled.

“You were.” So much for having this out when his friends weren’t around to witness it. “I never meant to hurt you. You didn’t deserve that. And I’m so sorry I did.” He wasn’t above groveling, even in front of Spike.

“You hurt me.” Anya sniffled again, and relaxed in his arms.

“I know.”

“You’re a big jerk.”

“I am,” he agreed. “The biggest. Please don’t blame yourself for my insecurities,” he whispered.

“It’s so hard. Getting used to being alone again.”

“I know. The apartment feels awfully empty now. I wish.... I know right now you’d probably rather never see me again, but I hope we can be friends one day.”

“That would be nice,” she said wistfully. “I don’t have many friends. But I don’t think I’m there yet.”

Xander nodded his understanding. How could he not? He rubbed her arms and stepped back.

“Xander.” She looked up at him. “Do you ever...miss me?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Despite the tears filling her eyes, she attempted a tremulous smile.

On day twelve Xander had to admit that the orb the demon had used held no magical properties that would make the viewer believe the vision. He and Willow were sitting on the couch in the training room when he closed the book he’d been reading in disgust.

Everything they’d found so far indicated that the Orb of Seeing, as it was so aptly named, merely had the ability to show the viewer a vision of their future based solely on what they were thinking about at that moment. Thinking about work, love, fame? The orb would show you what your future held. Also, it was supposedly difficult to tamper with the orb, and there was no record of anyone ever successfully removing the true vision and replacing it with a false one.

Xander and Willow had discussed the fact that, that might explain why Xander had seen two visions—if the demon had found someone powerful enough to add a false vision to the orb rather than attempting to remove the true vision and replace it with another. It was possible that he’d seen the second vision because the demon hadn’t pulled the orb away from him in time, and after seeing the first vision, he’d certainly been thinking about whether he’d make a good husband and father, so the orb had shown him his future. His true future.

How he wished that the second vision was the false one. He already feared he’d turn out like his father, and it would be so easy to believe that one. Much simpler, and much less traumatic, than trying to wrap his mind around a happy future with Spike.

“Nothing,” he growled. “You?” he asked, knowing it was useless.

“No, Xander. I’m sorry. All I got is Orb of Seeing, blah, blah, difficult to tamper with, blah, blah. If there was a spell put on it to add the, um, other vision, well, we can’t even determine that without the orb itself. And even if we did have the orb,” she mused, “it’s possible there might not be any magical...remnants...left, if all traces of the spell vanished once it was utilized. Although.... I wonder if we could find another orb and you could look....” At the expression on Xander’s face she broke off. “Never mind.”

He wanted to cry. He’d laid all his hopes on finding out that either the demon or the orb was more than they seemed at first glance. Without that, he had to consider the fact that the second vision was real, and that there was some reason other than magic for his unnatural attraction to Spike. That maybe there was a reason the seeds the demon planted had taken root. And seemed to be growing like the proverbial weed.

He jerked back to attention when he heard Willow say, “There might be another way.”

“There might?” he yelped excitedly. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

Willow was fidgeting nervously, and she looked paler than normal.

“Will?”

She glanced at him, and then looked down at the hands clenched in her lap. “You know how Giles stuck around after the...after?”

“Yea-ah,” Xander said.

“Well, he stayed for a couple reasons. He was worried about you, and Anya, of course....”

“Of course.”

“And Buffy.”

“Uh huh.” Xander wondered why he had the feeling something bad was going to happen.

“And me.”

“You? You....”

“I told him a-about the magic, a-and how I lost control and hurt Dawn.”

Willow fidgeted nervously, but Xander didn’t know what to say. It had been several months since Willow’s misuse of magic had forced her friends to intervene, but it was still a sore subject. “That must have been hard,” he finally said.

She bit her lip before replying. “It was. I was pretty...rude to him after we brought Buffy back. He told me then that I was...arrogant. I won’t repeat what I said to him.” Her eyes filled. “I knew he was gonna be so disappointed in me.” She sniffled.

“What, um, what did he say?” Xander asked, curious.

Willow glanced up at him. “Actually...” She gave a nervous little laugh. “...he told me that magic was a part of me, and that I couldn’t just...turn it off. He said it would always be there, and if I didn’t learn how to control it, one day I might, you know, get really angry or upset, and the magic would just...explode!”

Xander’s eyes went big and his jaw dropped. Willow hurried on. “He’s been in contact with a coven in England, and he’s teaching me about natural magics, and how everything is connected, and how to control the magic instead of letting it control me. And, of course, how to control myself so I don’t misuse this gift.”

She glanced at Xander to see how he was taking it, and then quickly continued. “I really wanted to tell you, but Giles thought your, um, possible...disapproval...might affect my ability to concentrate....”

Xander opened his mouth to speak, which only made Willow babble faster. “Anyway, I was thinking we could do a revealing spell to determine whether there’s a spell on you. It doesn’t have to be me,” she assured him. “If you don’t trust me, Giles can do it.”

She finally wound down to a halt and stared at Xander expectantly, anxiously nibbling on her bottom lip while she waited for him to respond. He didn’t know what to think, much less say. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Willow was doing magic. Giles was training her, and had instructed her not to tell her friends. Had they been wrong in forcing her to quit magic cold turkey? There was a spell that would reveal whether he was under a spell, which meant he could have gotten out of all this research.

He finally choked out, “You’ve been training with Giles in magic?”

Before Willow could respond, a sharp gasp drew both their attention to the doorway. “You’re doing what?” Buffy nearly snarled. Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heels and stormed back into the shop.

“Uh oh.”

Willow jumped up and ran after Buffy, and Xander followed her. They arrived in time to hear Buffy demand of Giles, “What do you think you’re doing, allowing Willow to perform magic?”

He and Willow skidded to a halt, and Giles looked over the rim of his glasses at the redhead. “I was telling Xander,” she admitted softly.

He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, and turned to Buffy. “I am training Willow in magic because she needs to learn how to control it....”

“She needs to stop using it!” Buffy angrily exclaimed.

Giles whipped his glasses off and brandished them like a weapon. “No, Buffy, she doesn’t. She can’t, in point of fact. The magic is a part of her. Bottling it up could have catastrophic effects.”

“She hurt Dawn!”

“I know she did, and I regret that more than you can know.” He rubbed his eyes. “I should have been here. I should have made sure Willow had more training.” He glanced their way. “But she’s getting it now.”

“If it’s no big deal, then why didn’t you tell us?” Buffy asked.

Giles raised an eyebrow. “After your outburst here, you really need to ask me that? The reason is that I didn’t want your, or Xander’s, or Dawn’s, disapproval to affect Willow’s concentration or control.”

Xander could tell that Buffy was still steamed. Willow was vibrating with nerves, and he placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. She shot him a grateful look as she relaxed against him. Xander wasn’t sure he didn’t agree with Buffy, at least a little bit, but Willow was his friend, too, and if Giles said it was okay, even necessary for her to train in the use of magic, then Xander was inclined to believe it was true, no matter that her abuse of magic had hurt them all in the past.

“I don’t want her using magic around me or Dawn.”

“Willow’s training is conducted privately, but there will most certainly come a day when her assistance may be required to....”

“No!” Buffy denied.

Giles held up a finger to keep her from saying anything further. “Don’t dismiss what could be a very powerful weapon in your arsenal without giving it further thought, Buffy.”

The bell jingled when Spike pushed the door open and practically exploded into the shop.

“And I believe this makes my point for me,” Giles muttered.

Spike took a couple steps, and then froze. “What’s up?” he asked, obviously sensing the dissension in the room.
“Nothing...,” Giles began.

“That’s not true,” Xander said, surprising no one more than himself. “We know...” He indicated those in the shop. “...and I don’t know if Buffy intends to tell Dawn, but Spike will need to be told. He might as well find out now, and get the whole story.”

Giles sighed. “Yes, of course, you’re right.”

Xander tried not to look surprised. He hoped he’d said what he had because it was the right thing to do, and not because of the stupid vision.

“Now that the cat’s out of the bag, there’s no reason to keep anyone in the dark.” He glanced at Buffy. “Unless you determine it would be best not to tell Dawn,” he said deferentially. Decision made, Giles told Spike what he’d just told the rest of them.

The vampire didn’t look happy—Xander knew he cared a great deal for Dawn, as much as he never wanted to accept his ability to care for anyone—but Spike did seem to accept Giles’ contention that not using the magic would most likely cause worse problems than learning how to use it properly. Buffy still wasn’t convinced, and she left for patrol with an expression of displeasure marring her face, shoulders held stiff.

Anya, who had surprisingly remained silent during the entire heated exchange, only waited until the door had shut behind Buffy and Spike before reminding Giles that she had to leave. With a look at Xander that fell somewhere between shy, embarrassed, and defiant, Anya grabbed her purse and left. He turned a questioning expression on Giles.

The older man, who’d just put his glasses on, pulled them back off. “I, um, believe she has a, ah, date this evening.”

“Oh,” Xander said. Anya had a date. That was good, right? If she was dating there was less of a chance that she’d remain angry enough to curse him.

“So,” Giles went on, “you told Xander about your training?”

“Yes,” Willow said. “I know you thought I shouldn’t, because it would affect my concentration, but Xander and I have been doing some, uh, extracurricular research, and we haven’t been able to find anything conclusive, or at all, and I couldn’t just quit when there was still something I could do, maybe, so I told him....”

Giles blinked owlishly at her. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Xander has reason to believe he’s under a spell, and I thought we could do a revealing spell,” Willow explained more succinctly.

Giles immediately turned his attention to Xander. “You think you’ve been spelled?” he asked worriedly. “When, what...?”

Between the two of them, they finally managed to explain that Xander thought the demon who’d disrupted his wedding had somehow put a spell on him, without giving away the real reason he thought so, and further explained the extent and results of their research into the demon and the orb.

Giles stared at him, and it made Xander squirm. “And you can’t tell me the content of the second vision the demon showed you?”

Xander blushed. “I’d rather not,” he squeaked.

Giles studied them both. “Very well,” he finally said. “Did you have a specific spell in mind?”

The next hour was a blur. Willow found the spell, and she and Giles gathered the ingredients while Xander sweated nervously in anticipation. With Willow’s assistance, Giles performed the spell. At the end, he tossed a handful of pink sand over Xander’s head. A satisfied expression crossed his face.

“Well, I’m pleased to tell you that you are spell-free, Xander,” Giles said happily.

Xander’s heart sank.

Part Three

Xander hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, after Giles performed the revealing spell and gave him the ‘good news’ that he was not under a spell as he’d so desperately hoped, even after all he’d learned about the orb’s properties. He’d declined Willow’s offer to talk in favor of going home where he could sulk and rage by turns in the privacy of his empty apartment.

He just couldn’t believe that his recent unnatural feelings for, and attraction to, Spike were, well, natural. There was absolutely no support for it. First of all, not gay. So not gay. Secondly, vampire. Not him, Spike. And he hated vampires. Thirdly, he hated Spike outside of the fact that he was a vampire. He was just...obnoxious, arrogant, overbearing, insolent...and a whole lot of other words that he was too upset to think of right now.

The thought that he now found the vampire attractive...all right, downright sexy...was nearly enough to turn his stomach. And the irony of contemplating the vision of a happy future with dismay and disgust was not lost on Xander. Christ, why Spike? He’d have been more accepting of anyone else but Spike. Well, maybe not Angel.

Which is why he now stood outside Spike’s crypt on a Friday night. After much debate—mostly internal—and more than a few mangled magazines Anya’d left behind, he’d decided to disprove that stupid vision on his own. He was going to ask Spike out on a date. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Spike it was a date. He wasn’t stupid. Well, not that stupid. He was, after all, here to ask Spike out, so there was some amount of stupidity involved.

He took a deep breath and pounded on the door, and then pushed it open and poked his head inside. “Spike? You in here?” he called into the darkness, broken only by a few scattered candles, as he stepped into the crypt.

Spike’s head popped up out of a hole in the floor. He rolled his eyes when he saw Xander. “What do you want?” he growled as he climbed the rest of the way up.

“I, uh.... What were you doing down there? Isn’t it all...?”

“Yeah. Just tryin’ to clean up the mess soldier boy made. Slayer send you?”

“Wha—? No!” Xander yelped, and then realized Spike was probably talking about patrol, rather than Buffy knowing about Xander’s covert attempt to take Spike out on a date. “I mean, uh, no. I just, um, was going to The Bronze, and wondered if you wanted to go. Play some pool.”

Spike was staring at him as if he’d lost his marbles. “You get hit on the head, Harris?”

“No, I just.... I’m buying,” he tried desperately.

Spike’s frown deepened. Xander suddenly felt completely foolish. What an idiot! What made him think Spike would agree to spend time with him, date or not? Granted, they’d spent some time together over the last summer, but a lot had happened since then.

“Never mind,” he said, taking a step back. “You’re busy. I’ll just, um...” He swallowed hard. “...go.”

Xander turned and stumbled to the door, pulled it open, and staggered out into the night. He leaned one hand against the crypt and took a couple deep breaths to calm himself before pushing away and heading for the cemetery entrance and the relative safety of his car. Stupid, stupid! he berated himself. Why had he thought this would work again?

It was a good thing he was so sure the vision was fake, despite how real it felt. If he’d only thought it through, rather than freaking out, he would have realized that the vision could never happen because, as much as he hated Spike, the vampire hated him with equal fervor. He should have felt relief, but was gripped with an inexplicable sorrow instead. He tried to tell himself it was just because the whole evening stretched out in front of him with nothing to do, but he wasn’t buying that explanation.

“I want one of those flowerin’ onion things,” Spike said as he dropped into step with Xander, who shrieked like a girl.

“Great googlie mooglie, Spike!” Xander yelled, clutching at his chest.

Spike just smirked at him.

“I thought you....”

“I’m feeling a bit peckish, and since you offered to buy....” He left the sentence hanging.

Shocked, Xander’s feet slowed and Spike moved ahead of him. “Hurry up, Harris,” he called back.

Despite the shock he’d just had, Xander couldn’t help but smile at the vampire’s back as he jogged to catch up, his heart feeling unaccountably lighter. He unlocked the passenger side door and opened it for Spike, who shot him a look. Xander gave a nervous laugh when he realized what he was doing and berated himself as he jogged around the car. He had to be careful not to do anything out of character and give up the game. Well, more out of character, since hanging out with Spike was out of character in and of itself.

As Xander pulled the car into the street, Spike growled, “Knock that off.”

“What?” Xander asked. He was too giddy that Spike had accepted his invitation to let the vampire’s snark get to him.

“You’re whistling. It’s bloody annoying.”

Xander blushed. “I was not!”

“Were to.”

“Not!”

“Were!”

The argument ended only when they got to The Bronze. Once inside, Spike made straight for the bar and ordered himself a beer, then headed for the pool tables, leaving Xander to order his own beer, pay for them both, and then follow him. When he reached Spike, the vampire was waiting impatiently. He held his hand out.

“What?”

“Quarters.”

“Quarters?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Can’t play without quarters.”

Xander reached into his pocket. “You couldn’t put down a quarter?”

“You’re payin’, aren’t you?”

Xander pulled out a handful of change and gave Spike all the quarters he had, wondering for the one hundredth time if this wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had.

Spike snagged a table and they watched the people who were ahead of them play. Xander tried to make small talk, but Spike didn’t seem too keen on that. Xander wracked his brains to think of something that would interest Spike.

“So,” he said, “football. That’s, like, soccer, right?”

Spike just blinked at him, and then turned away and grabbed a passing waitress. He held up his bottle. “Bring us another, eh, luv? And one of those flowerin’ onion things.”

The waitress smiled at Spike and Xander felt a twinge of jealousy when Spike smiled back.

“Bring him the bill,” he added, pointing to Xander.

The waitress turned to him. “Can I bring you anything, hon?”

“Yeah...” He smiled at her. “...since Mr. Courteous here couldn’t be bothered....” He glared at Spike. “I’ll have another beer and an order of your wings.”

“Make that two,” Spike interjected and Xander kicked at him under the table, missing.

“Sure thing.” She looked at Spike from beneath her lashes. “Be right back with your drinks, boys.”

Before they finished their food, their turn came up. They lost the first game handily.

“Pull your weight, Harris. I can’t carry your ass,” Spike groused as he inserted their second pile of quarters.

“I just need to warm up,” Xander asserted weakly. He really wasn’t any good at pool, and tried to remember why he thought he could keep up with Spike.

Despite having Xander for a partner, Spike managed to win the next game pretty much single-handedly. No one stepped up to claim the next game, so Spike and Xander continued playing. Since they were now playing against each other, the games didn’t take long and Spike happily wiped the floor with him.

While Spike was racking the balls for the next game, Xander stole a piece of Spike’s onion, which had gone cold.

“I saw that,” Spike said as he bent over the table and broke.

Xander swallowed hard when his eyes locked on Spike’s ass. He’d tried so hard not to stare at Spike—either while they were sitting at the table, or when they were playing—and he hadn’t meant to look now, but since he had.... His concentration was broken when the big guy he’d seen Spike here with before slapped Spike on the back as he was just getting ready to take his next shot. The shot went wide and Spike stood up with a glower that turned to a smile when he recognized the man.

Xander watched, feeling like an outsider while they exchanged an elaborate handshake similar to the one he’d witnessed before, and then proceeded to catch up. Spike laughed, and Xander felt a pang of sadness that he’d never been able to put that look on the vampire’s face. And then he spent the next five minutes reminding himself that he was supposed to be attempting to disprove the vision, not mooning over Spike.

Xander felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room when the big guy said, “So, who’s your friend?”

“Not my friend,” Spike denied. “Harris, Reggie,” he made a cursory introduction.

Xander waved nervously. “Hi.”

Reggie stepped closer and held his hand out. Xander stared at the large paw before carefully placing his hand into it. The other man’s grip was gentle, as if he knew his strength and was careful not to misuse it.

“Pleased to meet you, Harris,” he said. His voice was soft, and Xander figured he didn’t need to bellow, as anyone with a bit of brains would stop and listen when he started to speak. “My full name’s a bit of a mouthful, but my friends call me Reggie.”

“Um, hi, Reggie,” Xander managed to squeak out. “My name’s not so much of a mouthful. Alexander. Harris. Alexander Harris. But my friends call me Xander.”

Reggie smiled. “Xander.” He looked behind him at the table. “I believe it’s your shot.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

Xander moved around the table looking for the best shot, and then leaned over the table to line it up.

“Spike!” Reggie said. “Show the boy how to stand properly. And how to hold his stick. No wonder you’re kicking his a—, butt.”

Xander almost laughed out loud when Reggie politely said ‘butt’, but then Spike, despite glaring at Reggie, moved behind Xander and put one hand on his hip. “Spread ‘em, Harris.” Xander choked. Reggie laughed out loud at the look on Xander’s face.

Spike snarled, “Oh for...!”

Xander had been nervous all week, unsure whether he should pursue this crazy idea he had of disproving the vision—aka, seeing if he and Spike were even compatible as friends, much less lovers. He’d thought of little else since Friday night, and it was already Thursday without him having run into Spike. How could he casually invite the vampire out if he didn’t even see him? Maybe it was fate’s way of telling him he shouldn’t both—. His heart dropped when the bell jingled and Spike strode into the Magic Box. Xander stared at Spike from under his lashes while he tried to bring his heart rate back under control.

“What’s up?” the blond asked as he smoothly jumped up onto the counter.

“Good,” Giles said, “everyone’s here.” He looked around the table. “I did some research on the demon Buffy killed the other night. Based on her description, I’ve determined that it might be possible that the demon left behind a nest of young that are currently getting very hungry. We need to find her lair and eliminate them.”

Giles split them up into three groups—Willow with Buffy, Xander with Spike, and Anya with Giles—and divided the town into three search areas. Everyone gathered weapons, and Giles handed out the walkie-talkies, instructing them to contact the others if they found anything. “Don’t take them on yourself,” he said, staring directly at Spike.

It took over three hours for them to search the town, and they found no evidence of a nest or any demon spawn. Giles determined that the mother demon wouldn’t have traveled too far from the nest, and concluded that it was unlikely that the nest was located outside the area they’d already searched. He called a halt to the search and told everyone to meet back at the Magic Box.

When they first started the search, Xander had tried to make small talk, but his throat was tight with nerves—due both to worry over the possibility of finding the demon young and over asking Spike out again—so he followed the vampire’s lead and remained silent, speaking only when necessary to facilitate their search. He sighed in relief when the search ended with no sign of the demon babies. They might be small, but Giles had impressed upon him that they’d be vicious. And hungry.

During the walk back to the shop, he ran lines through his head as he practiced asking Spike out, and discarded each one. There was no way he could think of to ask Spike if he wanted to go to The Bronze again that sounded casual. He couldn’t just drop it into their conversation, since they weren’t having one. He realized he had to act quickly when the Magic Box came into view.

“Wanna go to The Bronze tomorrow?” he blurted.

Spike didn’t look right at him, just kinda peered at him from the corner of his eye as if Xander was an unknown specimen. “Why?” he finally asked.

Xander’s brain stalled. “Ahh, play pool?” he eventually managed to get out.

“I mean, why me?” Spike said, his tone indicating that he thought Xander was a moron.

“Oh,” Xander responded. Damn it! Why couldn’t Spike just fall into line and say ‘yes’? “Well, uh, ‘cause you’re a guy...type...person, and I don’t have many of, um, those.” Oh, god, Spike would never say yes, now. He was a moron, Xander thought. At least he hadn’t broken down and admitted the truth.

“Spike!” Buffy called.

“Well?” Xander asked nervously.

“Wanna patrol now?” Buffy asked the vampire.

“Sure,” Spike called back, “I could use a good spot of violence.” He glanced at Xander as they walked toward her. “If nothin’ better comes up,” he allowed, and then turned and headed off with Buffy when she caught up with them.

“Gee, thanks,” Xander muttered.

“See ya, Xan!” Buffy gave him a little wave.

Xander showed up at Spike’s crypt after sundown the next night. A thorough search of the upper and lower levels revealed that Spike wasn’t home. He decided to head on over to The Bronze in a vain hope that Spike would be waiting for him there.

Xander ordered a beer and walked through the bar looking for Spike. Despite not finding him, Xander decided to stay and finish his beer. He figured it was marginally better than sitting alone in his apartment. He leaned against the wall near the pool tables and watched the games until a table opened up.

He seated himself and ordered another beer. Xander was halfway done with his second beer when someone clapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, startled, and then turned his head, expecting to see Spike.

“R-Reggie!”

“Xander, right?” the large man asked.

“Um, yeah,” Xander said, swallowing his disappointment.

“Spike here?” Reggie asked.

“Uh, no,” Xander said, and tried to smile.

“Flyin’ solo tonight, huh?” Reggie said, looking around. “Wanna play?” he asked, pointing at the pool table. “I’ve got the next game.”

“Oh,” Xander said with a laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t want me as your partner!”

Reggie just grinned. An hour later, Reggie and Xander had the table to themselves and Reggie was still patiently showing Xander how to adjust his stance, hold the cue stick, and line up his shots. Xander wasn’t ready to hustle anyone, but he felt like he could hold his own now. A grin split his face and Reggie slapped him on the back after he made an especially difficult shot.

He jumped back in surprise when he looked up and saw Buffy standing at the corner of the table. “B-buffy, hey!”

“Hey, Xander,” she said, looking over his shoulder at Reggie. “You seen Spike?”

“Uh, no, not tonight,” Xander told her.

Buffy sighed. “He said something last night about doing another search for that nest, but I can’t find him.” She looked up at Reggie again. “You do realize he’s a demon, right?” she asked softly enough so only the three of them heard her.

Xander pointed over his shoulder to Reggie. “Him?”

“Yes.” Buffy nodded.

Xander twisted around. “You’re a-a demon?”

Reggie shrugged. “Quarter. On my mother’s side.”

“Oh. Uh huh. You, um, you don’t want to kill me, do you? ‘Cause most demons seem to. Want that.”

“After all my hard work teaching you how to play pool?” Reggie asked.

Xander gave a nervous laugh. “That means ‘no’, right?”

Reggie just raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, okay.” He turned back to Buffy. “No Spike. So, you wanna play with?” He inclined his head towards the table.

“Nah, I need to patrol. I’ll see you later. Be careful,” Buffy said, and then walked away.

Reggie moved up next to him and put an arm across his shoulders as they both watched Buffy leave. “I’ve worked up an appetite,” he said. Xander’s heart began to hammer. “Wanna get some wings?”

Xander looked up into Reggie’s laughing face. “Ha, ha!” He jabbed his elbow into Reggie’s side. “You’re a laugh riot. Really. Too funny. But, yeah...” He caught the eye of a passing waitress. “...I could eat something.”

Three games, four plates of wings, and six beers later, Xander glanced up to see Spike sitting at their table, drinking Xander’s beer and filching a wing. “Hey!” he complained as he left Reggie to make his shot and walked over to the table. “Wow, you look like crap. What happened?”

Spike had a deep cut on his cheek, a black eye, and his shirt was torn and bloodstained.

“Found that nest,” he crowed, grinning.

“Who won?” Xander asked.

“Ha bloody ha,” Spike replied, stealing another wing and finishing the beer.

“Buffy’s looking for you,” Xander said, suddenly remembering. Spike just shrugged.

“Spike,” Reggie greeted the vampire after taking his shot. Xander watched jealously while they shook hands.

“You have to teach me one of those,” Xander said plaintively. “Reggie’s been giving me some tips to improve my game,” he told Spike.

Spike raised a disbelieving eyebrow as he swiped his finger through the hot sauce on the plate.

“Don’t mock,” Xander said. “Bet I could beat you,” he challenged.

“Yeah, right. Did he teach you how to talk a good game, or play one?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Xander said.

That night Xander dreamt of taking Spike home and tending his wounds. Once the vampire was doctored, Xander pressed him down onto the couch and crawled over him. They kissed, and then Xander moved down Spike’s body, licking and sucking his way to the blond’s swollen cock. He lapped at it, teasing the vampire until Spike dug his fingers into Xander’s hair and lifted his hips. “Xander, please!”

Xander took Spike into his mouth and sucked as he worked his own hips against the couch. Spike was grunting and whimpering and urging Xander on, “Yes, yes, please, so good....” Xander moaned around Spike, and the vampire bucked his hips. His penis twitched, and then filled Xander’s mouth. Xander swallowed, fingers gripping Spike’s hips as he humped the couch. He woke with Spike’s name echoing in his head, his own release cooling on his belly.

Xander’s crew was sent home early on Wednesday when they received a shipment of the wrong material. He used the unexpected free time to run some errands, and then called the Summers’ house to see if the girls wanted to join him for pizza. Dawn answered and told him that Buffy was working, Willow had a late class, and she was just on her way over to Janice’s to study. Xander was on his own.

He drummed his fingers on the table, and then paced the apartment. Spike had stopped by the Magic Box briefly on Sunday night before heading out to patrol with Buffy, but he had been on Xander’s mind almost constantly since he’d woken from that dream covered in his own spunk.

Xander finally grabbed his keys and jacket, automatically feeling for the stake hidden in the inside pocket, and left the apartment. During the drive across town and the subsequent walk through the cemetery, he tried not to think about what he was doing. Before he could knock on the crypt door, it opened and Spike wheeled his motorcycle out.

“Uh, hey, Spike,” Xander said, backing up to give Spike room to maneuver the bike.

“Harris,” Spike drawled, barely looking at him.

“Spike.”

Raised eyebrow. “Harris.”

“Um, Spike, I, uh, wondered if you wanted to get something to eat.”

Spike looked him over, sniffed. “You offerin’?”

Xander opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it. “Not to be the meal,” he clarified. “But to go with, and pay, yeah.”

Spike easily straddled the bike. “Got plans,” he said, and started it.

Xander swallowed hard. “Right.” God this was such a bad idea. He should have had a pizza delivered and stayed in with a good movie. Or reruns. Some Seven of Nine. Or possibly Tom Paris.

Spike sighed loud enough for Xander to hear it over the revving engine. “Wanna go?” he asked.

Xander’s heart sped up. Spike had asked him to go with him! Wherever it was he was going. “Um, where?” he asked tentatively.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Yes or no, Harris.”

Xander was nervous, but he really wanted to spend time with Spike. To disprove the vision, of course. “Yeah, all right.” He swallowed hard.

Spike glared at Xander. “If you’re goin’, get on.”

Xander choked. “Get on?”

“The bike, Harris. Get on the bike.”

Xander looked at the bike. “I, um, I’ve never ridden....”

“Get. On. Or I’m leaving you behind.”

Xander got on. Spike smirked at him over his shoulder. “Pick your feet up and hang on.”

Spike lifted his feet and the bike jumped forward. Xander grabbed for Spike as he was jerked backwards. The mental image of him sliding off the back of the bike caused him to take a death grip on the vampire’s duster. Spike slowed down as they approached the exit and glanced back over his shoulder at Xander.

“Slide your ass up, Harris, and quit wrinklin’ my duster.”

“What?” Xander was still unbalanced and couldn’t wrap his mind around what Spike was saying.

The blond reached back and grabbed Xander behind the knee, and then pulled him forward. He found himself plastered against Spike’s back and his heart started to pound. He hoped Spike thought it was fear, rather than arousal.

“Now hold on.”

“Huh?” Xander thought he might start hyperventilating.

Spike grabbed his hands and pulled Xander’s arms around his torso. “Hold on,” he repeated, and then peeled out of the cemetery.

“Eeep!” Xander curled his fingers into Spike’s t-shirt and held on tight. Spike’s driving scared the bejesus out of him, so he buried his face in the vampire’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if that was much better, as every movement of the bike seemed exaggerated and he began to feel nauseous. As soon as Spike pulled the bike to a stop, Xander dragged himself off it and bent over, head bowed and hands on his knees as he tried to settle his stomach.

“Sissy.”

“Bite me.” Xander glanced up when Spike unhooked a basket from the back of the bike. “What’s that?”

“My kitty,” Spike said, turning and walking away.

Xander didn’t understand that, but he straightened to follow Spike and got his first look at the seedy bar they were approaching. “What are we doing here?” he squeaked.

“Poker night.”

Xander jogged to catch up. “Poker?”

Spike pushed the door open and Xander followed him into the bar. He scurried to keep up with the vampire, sidestepping the bar’s other patrons, who looked to be all demons. Xander’s chest tightened when he briefly wondered whether any of them would take umbrage at his presence. Or were hungry.

When Spike paused at the bar to order a bottle, Xander sidled up to him and hissed angrily, “You brought me to a demon bar?”

“No one forced you,” Spike said without looking at him, but Xander’s attention had been captured by a small noise that seemed very out of place here.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

“Hear what?” Spike responded as he grabbed the bottle and continued towards the back of the bar.

“That....” Xander hurried after him. “I thought I heard a...” He broke off when he followed Spike into the back room and saw several demons sitting around the table, baskets of kittens at their feet. “...cat.”

Spike ignored him and took the last empty chair at the table, setting his mewing basket down.

“Hey, Spike,” Clem greeted the vampire, lifting his large hand in a wave.

“Clem,” Spike said, then nodded at the others.

“You’ve gotta stop bringing humans here, Spike,” a demon with a bad skin condition and tusks said. “At least it isn’t the Slayer, this time,” it groused.

“Kittens?” Xander finally managed to get out. “Y-you play for kittens?”

The tusked demon gave Spike an ‘I told you so’ look, and then continued shuffling the deck.

“Hey, Xander, right?” Clem said.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Clem,” Xander said politely, though his head was spinning. Spike had brought him to a demon poker game!

“Sorry,” Clem said, shaking his head, “it’s just that you humans all look alike to me.”

“Right, no problem,” Xander said, and then turned to Spike. “Kittens?”

“Shut it, Harris,” Spike said, his attention already on the cards before him. He pointed distractedly towards a chair along the wall. “Sit down.”

Xander swallowed hard. He was stuck in a demon bar with Spike, who was playing poker for kittens. Though technically, he wasn’t being forced to stay. He could always leave. By walking through the demons in the bar to the front door and, if he made it that far, then what? He grabbed the bottle Spike had bought and carried it over to the chair.

“Hey!” Spike complained absently as his bottle was carried off.

Xander ignored him while he twisted the cap off, then lifted the bottle to him in a mock-salute and took a swig.

Two hours later, Spike was on a roll. At one time he had eleven kittens in his basket. One of the kittens—all white except for a black mark on the tip of its tail—escaped the basket and came over to explore Xander’s boots. It flattened itself to the ground and pounced, batting at his shoelaces.

Xander had taken a couple more sips of the whiskey Spike had purchased, and then tossed the bottle back over to the vampire when he held his hand out for it. He was nervous, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that getting drunk in a bar full of demons was a good idea. He was, however, bored out of his skull. Therefore, the kitten’s stealthy approach was an occasion for celebration.

Soon, the kitten had fallen asleep and Xander slipped back into boredom. Studying the demons wasn’t as much fun as it might seem. He’d nearly dozed off when he suddenly jerked back to full alertness, unsure what had jolted him awake. He looked around the room from beneath lowered lashes to see if he could determine what had startled him. None of the demons were paying him any attention, and there didn’t seem to be any disagreements between them. His eyes fell on Spike, who was reaching into his basket for the last two remaining kittens.

“I’ll see you...” He placed one kitten in the pot sitting in the middle of the table. “...and raise you...” He stared at the lone kitten, and then glared in Xander’s direction. He looked innocently back at the vampire. “...one.”

Spike placed the last kitten in the pot, and then leaned back in his chair, waiting for the other two demons that still held cards to take their turns. Xander glanced down at the kitten, which had curled up on the top of his boot and fallen asleep in that precarious position.

Spike won that hand, and then played a couple more. After losing a hand, Spike plopped his basket on the table in front of him. “I’m out. Who wants to relieve me of my booty?”

“I’m out, too,” Clem said, tucking his last kitten into one of the oversized pockets of his jacket.

After Spike had turned his remaining kittens into cash, he stood and looked at Xander in disgust. “Here.” He tossed the basket to him, and then headed for the door.

“Whoa, wait!” Xander quickly snatched the sleeping kitten up and placed it inside the basket as he stood, latching it to keep the kitten safely inside while he hurried after Spike and Clem. He took a deep breath in relief when they stepped outside the bar without being accosted by a drunk—or hungry—demon.

“See ya on Sunday, Spike,” Clem said as the vampire walked over to his bike. “Bye, Xander.”

“Uh, bye.” Xander waved, and then watched Clem maneuver himself into his Beetle. “What’s Sunday?” he asked Spike.

The blond looked at him without answering. “Make sure the basket’s hooked on tight,” he said as he straddled the bike.

Xander fumbled with the basket while Spike started the bike and revved the engine. When the basket was firmly attached, he climbed on behind Spike, making sure he was sitting so close to the vampire that you couldn’t slip a piece of paper between them. Purely for safety considerations, of course. He wrapped his arms around Spike, resting his palms over a firm chest and stomach.

He kept his eyes open this time, tightening his grip when Spike rounded the corners, laughing as the wind whipped through his hair on the straight-aways, and squealing when Spike purposely zig-zagged the bike. When Spike rolled to a stop beside his car, Xander was breathless, due in equal parts to laughter, fear, excitement, danger, and arousal.

He climbed off the bike and staggered, his legs still feeling the vibration of the bike. Still giddy from the ride, he felt little anxiety when he said, “That was great! Except for the part where you tried to make me fall off.” Spike made an innocent face, and Xander scoffed. “Yeah, right. So, Friday?”

Spike studied him thoughtfully before looking away. “Yeah, all right.”

Xander managed to not pump his fist in the air. He watched as Spike unhooked the basket from the bike and shoved it into his arms. “I need the basket back,” he said. “You can bring it by on Sunday.” He revved the engine and pulled away with a squeal of the tires without looking back.

Xander’s mouth gaped as he looked between the basket and the vampire’s retreating back. Suddenly realizing he was standing on a deserted street after dark on the Hellmouth, Xander climbed into his car and locked the doors, then lifted the cover of the basket. The kitten stretched and blinked sleepily up at him.

He smiled, and reached in and petted the soft white fur. Spike had, sorta, invited him to stop by on Sunday, and he’d given him a gift. A kitten. Which would need food, and toys, and a litter box.... He stared at the kitten, now swatting at its own black-tipped tail, in horror. What was he going to do with a kitten?

Part Four

Friday night at The Bronze, Xander couldn’t stop smiling.

“What?” Spike grumbled.

“Nothing.”

Xander paid for their drinks and put quarters down on the pool table. He bounced on his toes as they drank their beer and watched the other players at the table. After the waitress disappeared with more of Xander’s money in her pocket, Spike turned to him.

“Will you knock it off?” he snarled.

Xander lowered the fresh bottle he’d been about to take a sip out of. “Knock what off?”

“Th-th-the smiling! And bouncing! It’s creepin’ me out. Plus, it’s bloody annoying.” Xander’s smile widened. “That! Right there. Knock if off or, so help me, I’ll forget about this chip and....”

Xander thought that his smile might split his face. “I’m excited,” he admitted. “This is gonna be so much fun!”

“We’ve done this before,” Spike reminded him.

“Yeah, but now I don’t suck quite so much.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Says who?”

“Says Reggie,” Xander retorted.

“What was it I said?” Reggie asked.

Xander turned in surprise. “Hey, Reggie!”

“Hey, Xander.” Reggie clapped him on the back. “Spike.” He and Spike shook hands while Xander looked on enviously. “Spike, you remember Carla.”

Spike greeted the woman Reggie pulled forward politely. That alone would have made Xander’s jaw drop, but the slender redhead who stood about a foot shorter than he did could actually take most of the credit.

“Xander,” Reggie continued, “this is my wife, Carla.”

“Wife?” Xander blurted, then blushed. “Sorry,” he told the woman smiling up at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Carla placed her small hand in his. “The pleasure’s mine, young man.”

“I told Carla that Spike had a new friend, and she insisted on coming along tonight to meet you,” Reggie explained.

Carla lovingly slapped Reggie’s arm, and Spike said, “Oh, we’re not friends.”

“He keeps saying that,” Reggie stage-whispered to his wife.

“In fact,” Spike continued as if the larger man hadn’t spoken, “you just saved me from a splittin’ headache caused by knockin’ some sense into him.”

Xander lightly punched the vampire on the arm. “I’ll give you a.... Oh! We’re up!” He bounced and grinned at Spike, who just rolled his eyes.

“See what I mean?” he whined to Reggie and Carla.

Xander played a much better game than he’d done two weeks before, thanks to Reggie’s patient tutoring, but he was often distracted by Spike’s ass, or hands, or tongue...and the vampire easily took three out of the four games they played. After that, they convinced Reggie and Carla to play doubles with them. Luckily, Carla wasn’t a much better player than Xander, so they were evenly matched.

At night’s end, Spike walked Xander to his car, but declined a ride back to his crypt in favor of a quick patrol. He paused to light a cigarette and said casually, without looking at Xander, “Don’t forget the basket Sunday.”

Xander’s heart rate sped up. “I won’t,” he said nervously. “What, um, what time? Would, uh, be good for you, I mean?”

Spike gave a careless shrug as he drew on the cigarette and stuffed the lighter back into his pocket. “Four-ish.”

“O-okay. Four’s good. For me. Too.” As much as Xander was enjoying Spike’s company and didn’t want the night to end, he wished the vampire would get going so he could do the little bounce that was causing his whole body to vibrate as he struggled to suppress it.

“Good,” Spike said shortly. He turned to walk away. “Bring some snacks,” he said over his shoulder. “And some beer. The good kind,” he called as he moved off.

Xander started to bounce. His fingers shook as he unlocked his car door.

“And bring a chair, ‘less you wanna sit on the floor.” Spike’s voice drifted out of the darkness.

Xander was so excited he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face, and the sun was nearly coming up before he managed to fall asleep.

Xander took a deep breath before he tapped the door with the toe of his boot. He was loaded down with snacks and drinks, the empty basket dangling from one finger, a folding chair hanging over his shoulder.

He put his back to the crypt door and pushed it open a crack, and then peeked inside. Seeing no one, he pushed the door open farther. “Spike?” he called as he stepped into the dimly lit room. His luck, Spike was hiding in one of the dark, shadowed corners, ready to jump out and scare the crap out of him.

He set his packages down on the closest tomb, and turned towards the entrance to the lower level when he heard Spike coming up the ladder. A tousled head of blond curls appeared first, followed by bare shoulders. Xander’s breath caught when a shirtless Spike climbed out of the hole. His mouth gaped as the sleepy vampire ran the fingers of one hand through his hair and absently scratched at his belly with the hand that clutched his t-shirt.

“I, um, I....” Xander tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “I, uh, knocked. But, I woke you. I might be a little early...,” he babbled.

“‘S fine,” Spike mumbled, waving away Xander’s concern. “Bring the beer?”

Xander, unable to think coherently with Spike’s deliciously firm abs on display, much less form complete sentences, merely nodded. Heat flared in his belly, and then centered itself in his groin. He surreptitiously swiped the back of his hand over his mouth to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

“Why don’t you find some room for the beer in the fridge?” Spike asked as he pulled the t-shirt on.

Xander fought back a whimper of protest as the pale flesh was covered up. He turned quickly and grabbed the bag that held the beer, holding it in front of his crotch as he shuffled over to the small refrigerator in the corner.

While he packed the fridge, Spike disappeared into the back corner, and reappeared with a battered folding table that had seen better days. He set it up in front of his ratty easy chair, and then slid a magazine under a bent leg to keep it semi-level.

“Grab me a bag o’ blood,” he commanded as he retreated to the corner, returning with two folding chairs. “You bring a chair?”

Xander grabbed a blood bag out of the fridge, a lot less grossed out than he thought he should be, and tossed it into the microwave while he put the last of the beer away. “Yeah. Over there.” He pointed to the tomb.

Spike glanced over at the tomb and nodded. He set the chairs under the table and then went through the snacks Xander’d brought. He grunted once or twice, but Xander couldn’t tell if it was in approval of, or disgust at his choices.

When the microwave dinged, Spike carried the snacks over to the table and dropped Xander’s chair on the floor beside it. Xander stood back while Spike pulled out a mug and poured the warmed blood into it. He forced himself to look away while Spike drank, though he couldn’t resist a glance at the other man’s throat as he swallowed.

Spike finished the blood and took a step towards Xander. He started wondering if the vampire had been able to read his thoughts, but then realized he was moving past him and into the shadows. He jumped when the door opened and Clem stuck his head inside. Spike chuckled.

“Shut up, Spike,” Xander groused. “You coulda warned me!”

Spike grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Hey, Xander,” Clem said as he entered the crypt. A demon that looked an awful lot like the loose-skinned demon followed Clem in. “Spike here?”

“Hey, Clem,” Xander greeted him. “Yeah, Spike’s right here.”

Spike stepped forward. “Just staying away from stray sunbeams. You got the wings?”

“Yep.” Clem held up the bucket. “Xander, this is my cousin, Flem,” he added as he walked over to the table.

Xander’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, yeah,” Clem said in a dismissive manner. “We’ve heard all the jokes. It’s spelled with an ‘f’, and there’s no ‘g’.” He stepped over Xander’s chair and set the bucket of wings on the table.

Spike plopped into his chair, and Clem and Flem pulled the two folding chairs out and sat down as if they were at home here in Spike’s crypt. Clem pulled a worn deck of cards out from somewhere Xander didn’t even want to contemplate.

“Grab some beers, Harris, and get over here,” Spike commanded.

They played poker that first Sunday until it was well past Xander’s bedtime. Spike had rolled his eyes when Xander said he had to get going, but he’d just packed up his chair, smacked Spike on the back of the head, and stuffed his winnings—a dozen oreos and about thirty corn chips—into his pockets. He figured he’d paid for them, might as well have something to snack on during the drive home.

He still couldn’t believe how much fun he’d had playing poker with three demons he wouldn’t have been caught dead spending time with even three months ago. Flem was as taciturn as Clem was gregarious, but Xander couldn’t remember laughing so hard as he had when Flem finally opened up and told the joke about the three demons, a Platoc, a Grimlag, and a Creatch, that walked into a bar. He couldn’t actually remember the rest of it, but it had been damned funny at the time. Or, maybe it was just the beer.

Over the next couple of weeks, Spike and Xander continued to play pool at The Bronze on Friday nights, and Xander had a standing invite to be their fourth for Sunday afternoon poker. He’d even managed to convince Spike to go see a movie with him. Actually, the vampire had said he’d only go to the movie if Xander went on a motorcycle ride with him, and though he’d hesitated before agreeing, Xander couldn’t back down from the challenge in Spike’s eyes. The two hour ride up the coast the following weekend had been more than he’d bargained for, but it had been worth it to be that close to Spike.

Friday night had rolled around again, and Xander was whistling happily in anticipation of seeing Spike when he pushed the crypt door open without knocking, as he’d gotten into the habit of doing. “Hey, Spike, get your undead ass....” His voice trailed off when his eyes adjusted to the dim light and he saw Spike and Buffy facing off. “Oh, you’re already up here. Buffy,” his voice squeaked. What in hell was Buffy doing here?

“Xander,” Buffy said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, “what are you doing here?”

“Ha! I was just wondering that. About you, not me, ‘cause I know what I’m doing here,” Xander babbled.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “Which is?”

“Which is what?” Xander asked, suddenly confused.

“Why you’re here.”

“Oh, that.” Xander had imagined this happening, his ‘trysts’ with Spike being discovered, but he found denial a happy place to be, so hadn’t actually thought of what he’d say when that happened. What came out was, “For our play date!”

Buffy and Spike both stared at him as if he was nuts.

He gave a nervous laugh. “You know, when kids go to their friends’ houses to play, it’s called a play date?”

Buffy’s frown deepened. “I know what a play date is, Xander. Are you saying you came here to play with Spike?”

“Yes....” Xander blushed at the bad, wrong thoughts that comment engendered. “No!”

Spike looked away before Xander could determine whether his expression was one of amusement or annoyance, though he figured if Spike was annoyed, he’d be unlikely to try and hide it. He shook his head and wished he could just learn to keep his mouth shut.

“Pool,” he said. “We’re going to play pool. At The Bronze.”

Buffy didn’t look convinced. “You and Spike?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” she demanded.

Xander’s eyes widened. He so didn’t want to be having this conversation now. “Because it’s fun?”

“Playing pool with Spike is fun?” She sounded very skeptical.

“Hey!” Spike snarled. “I can be fun, as you very well know,” he said nastily. “‘Sides, it’s fun for me, ‘cause I can beat the pants off him,” he contributed.

“Thanks,” Xander drawled. Though he’d improved, thanks to Reggie, he still wasn’t a match for Spike’s skills. “It’s something to do on a Friday night,” he told Buffy.

“Plus, he buys,” Spike added.

“And again, thanks.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Now we know why Spike hangs out with you, why is it you’re hanging with Spike again?”

Xander’s embarrassment over his secret—or rather part of it, since his attraction to the vampire was still hidden—having been found out was suddenly overshadowed by a flash of hurt. “Thanks, Buff,” he said, stung by her words.

She immediately looked contrite. “Xander, I didn’t mean....”

Xander didn’t want to hear it right then. He ignored her and turned to Spike. “I’m leaving. You still coming, or you gotta patrol or something?”

Spike glanced at Buffy. “I’m comin’. Got nothin’ here I need to do.”

The next night, he, Buffy, and Willow were sitting around the research table at the Magic Box. His best friends were discussing him as if he wasn’t sitting right there listening.

“Maybe he just needs a guy friend,” Willow suggested.

“Spike’s not a guy,” Buffy retorted.

“He’s a guy, he’s just not a human guy,” Willow corrected.

“Thanks, Will, that makes me feel so much better.”

“Look, can I have a say...?”

“No!” both girls told him.

Xander raised his hands in surrender and leaned back in his chair.

“Seriously,” Willow went on, “it’s not like there’s a plethora...”

‘Plethora?’ Xander mouthed silently.

“...of guys in our little group. I mean, there used to be Oz and Riley, but now there’s just Giles and Spike.”

Xander watched them contemplate him and Giles playing pool, or sipping port, and then shake themselves out of it.

“Plus, it’s not like he can just go find another guy friend outside our group and bring him by to get to know us, what with the whole demon fighting thing. And,” she went on, “it’s not like we hang as much as we used to. I mean, a-and that’s okay, ‘cause we’ve each got our own lives and stuff, and I didn’t mean to imply....”

“Then let’s do something together,” Buffy suggested. “A movie.” She got up and rifled through Giles’s newspaper until she found the movie section. “Lord of the Rings is playing at the cheap theater,” she announced.

“Xander’s already seen that,” Willow said, and then made a ‘sorry’ face at him.

“What! When?” No one answered her. “Xander?”

“Oh, I get to speak now?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes, sorry, please, speak,” Buffy said as she retook her seat.

“Yes, I’ve already seen it, is there anyth—?”

“When?” she whined.

“A couple...weekends...ago.” Buffy was obviously waiting for more. “With Spike,” he squeaked.

“You went to the movies with Spike?” she demanded. “He went to the movies with Spike!” she told Willow. The redhead nodded. “See? That’s what I mean. It’s just....”

“Ooky?”

“Unnatural! Spike and Xander hate each other, and suddenly they’re hanging out? Something Hellmouth-y is going on here,” she declared, and then buried her face in the paper.

Willow’s eyes went wide with understanding. Xander blushed. ‘Spike?’ she mouthed at him. He thought about lying, but knew he couldn’t. Not to Willow. He closed his eyes, and nodded.

“I mean, they don’t even have anything in common,” Buffy griped.

“Well, um, fighting evil,” Willow supplied gamely, though still obviously in shock over this latest revelation.

“Pool,” Xander added weakly.

“Action movies,” Willow said with a smile, getting more in to it.

“That flowerin’ onion thing,” Spike said as he pulled a chair away from the table, turned it around, and straddled it.

Xander screeched, and then slapped at Spike, who expertly evaded him.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Somethin’ odd in the obits?” He nodded at the paper Buffy held.

“Movies,” Willow said. “Hey, maybe Spike can go with us!”

Xander turned red with embarrassment.

Buffy turned red with irritation. “Willow!”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“This was supposed to be an ‘us’ thing, ‘cause you said we weren’t hanging out enough and that’s why....” She had the grace to look uncomfortable as she trailed off.

Xander caught a fleeting expression of hurt cross Spike’s face before it was quickly covered by a sneer. “Keep the boy busy so he’s not bored enough to wanna hang out with me, is that the plan, Slayer?” He stood up, turned the chair back around, and practically threw it back under the table. He gave Xander an angry look. “Well, I don’t bloody need....”

Xander wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he quickly stood and grabbed Spike’s arm. “I’m good for whatever you decide,” he told Buffy, gesturing towards the paper. “Saturday’s better for me, ‘cause Friday night is pool night, and Sunday is, um, not good either. Right?” he asked Spike, and then continued on without waiting for an answer. “Come on, let’s go patrol.” He took a step towards the door and tugged on Spike’s arm.

Spike glared at Buffy, and then turned and stomped out. Xander gave Willow a little wave, and then followed him. He breathed a sigh of relief, figuring he’d just killed three birds with one stone—he managed some alone-time with Spike, got away from Buffy’s disapproving looks, and evaded Willow’s certain grilling.

He’d managed to avoid Willow the next day by the expediency of letting his machine pick up all his calls, and by going over to Spike’s early for poker, but when Xander’d gotten home from work Monday night, she was waiting for him. She’d closed her textbook and scrambled to her feet when she saw him. He’d taken a deep breath. After the other night, and too much beer yesterday, he was so not in the mood for this confrontation...discussion...whatever.

“Will....”

“Stop right there, buster.” She’d held her hand up to silence him. “We’re talking. You can take a shower and relax, we’ll order takeout, but we’re talking. Plus, I brought chocolate.” She issued the bribe with a knowing expression.

Xander was weak, so he’d relented, giving her a wan smile, and then opening the door. He’d showered and changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt, and they’d eaten the Chinese takeout Willow had ordered while he was in the shower. Now they were sprawled out on the couch eating the chocolate brownies she’d picked up at the bakery on her way over.

“So,” she said, beginning the discussion Xander was dreading, “Spike, huh?”

Xander was loathe to discuss his dirty little secret—not the fact that he was infatuated with the vampire, but that he had feelings for someone who didn’t return them. Who wanted anyone, even their best friend, to know they were in unrequited-love? Lust, not love. Mild attraction.

Willow already knew how upset he was about the second vision and he’d already confided that the individual was a guy who Xander hated, but he’d left off the bit about the guy hating him right back. And failed to tell her that he’d decided to take things into his own hands to ‘disprove’ the vision.

“Xander? You can talk to me,” Willow assured him.

He snorted bitter laughter. “About how I’m secretly wooing Spike and I still don’t know if he even likes me?”

“Y-you’re wooing him?”

Xander rolled his eyes. “We’re dating,” he said with a small, wry grin, “but he doesn’t know it, yet.”

Willow made an ‘aww’ face. Xander swallowed hard.

“After the spell,” he told her, “I did a lot of thinking. I figured there was one way to disprove the vision, and that was if Spike and I couldn’t even be friends. I mean, what kind of happy future would there be for the two of us if we continued to hate each other, right? Well, he surprised me,” Xander admitted.

“So you...still...?”

“I think it’s worse now.”

“Really?” She blinked wide eyes in surprise.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a jerk. But I’ve seen him sometimes when he’s not a jerk, and there were a couple times when he was being a not-jerk and he realized it and he did something double-jerk-y to make up for it.” His small smile was more genuine now. “He really tried to piss me off one night, but the thing was, I knew why he was doing it, so I pretended to let him get to me.” He glanced up at Willow. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

She shook her head, sniffled. “So, you and Spike.”

Xander laughed. “Not quite. I think he needs to at least like me for there to be a ‘me and Spike’.”

“Oh, Xander. I’m sure he likes you. He wouldn’t keep hanging out with you if he didn’t.”

“He told Buffy he hangs out with me because he can beat me at pool, and because I pay.”

“You pay?” Xander nodded. “For everything?” He nodded again. “And Spike hasn’t figured out you’re dating, yet?” she teased. “For a vamp who’s been around a while, he’s not very quick.”

“Yeah, well, no one ever said he was smart.”

“Seriously, Xan, what do you expect him to tell Buffy? That he hangs out with you because he likes you? I mean, they’re mortal enemies. He’s the ‘Big Bad’, and you’re a Scooby extraordinaire. And besides that,” she went on, barely taking a breath, “do you really think he’d hang out with you just because you suck at pool...”

“Thanks.”

“...and buy him those onion thingies, if he wasn’t enjoying himself? I mean, Spike? And, okay, that argument might, and I mean might hold for The Bronze, but what about the movies?”

“And, um, poker,” Xander admitted. Willow’s eyes urged him to tell her more. “Sunday’s, at his crypt, with Clem and his cousin, uh, Flem.”

Willow choked. “Clem and Flem?”

Xander grinned and nodded. “Yeah, it’s, um, anyway, so, he also....” Xander mumbled something Willow couldn’t understand.

“What was that?” she asked.

“He’s taken me for a ride on his bike. He doesn’t let me drive,” he qualified, “but at least I get to, uh....” He looked up at Willow. “That sounds really pitiful, doesn’t it?”

She shook her head, her lips clenched in a tight smile that either meant she was angry or trying not to cry. “I think it’s sweet!”

“Yeah, sweet. Except....”

“Nope,” she declared, “he likes you.”

“Really? How can you...? I mean, you’ve never seen....”

Willow counted on her fingers. “Pool, poker, movies, bike rides. How many times do you see him a week?”

“Uh, counting research and patrol?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes.

“Twice, sometimes, um, three...times,” Xander told her.

“And how long has this been going on?” she continued to interrogate him.

“Well, since the spell, so five...six weeks?”

She nodded as if the research she’d just conducted supported her theory. “Yep, he likes you. So...” She smiled at him. “...whatcha gonna do about it?”

“Do about it?” he squeaked.

Part Five

Xander had done little else but think about Willow’s question all week long. ‘So, watcha gonna do about it?’ It hung over his head like a black cloud. What was he going to do about it? He had two choices: do something, or do nothing. If he did something, though he had no idea what that something might be, he ran the risk of ruining the burgeoning friendship he and Spike had formed. He’d come to enjoy Spike’s company, and wasn’t sure he could bear it if he did something to make the vampire uncomfortable enough to not want to hang out with him anymore.

On the other hand, if he did nothing, he and Spike would probably remain friends, which was more than he’d ever expected, though less than he’d come to desire, but he’d never know if the love and happiness he’d felt in that vision were real. Could be real. It would defeat the whole purpose of having started this little...experiment...in the first place. But could he take the step that would prove, or ultimately disprove, the vision if it meant the possibility of losing everything?

When he arrived at Spike’s crypt that Friday night, his hands were sweating and he still hadn’t come to a decision. Half a dozen games of pool, in which Xander played worse than he’d ever played, and way too many beers later, Spike called it a night. Xander was both relieved and dismayed, because if this night ended without him saying something to Spike, it would eat at him and drive him mad. It was already all he could think about! Plus, Willow would never let it drop.

Xander argued with himself as they walked to the car. When they reached it, he tapped his fist on the trunk, took a deep breath, and then turned back to Spike. Who was it that said, ‘If you’re afraid to fail, you’ll never succeed’?

“Listen, Spike,” he began, “I....”

Spike looked at him through his lashes and the words died in his throat.

“Yeah?” the vampire finally prodded.

Xander swallowed hard. “Do you think we’re friends?” he asked, and then rushed on. “I mean, I think we’re friends. We do friend-type things.” He glanced at Spike, who looked a little gobsmacked. “I guess I never told you I thought we were friends. But I do. You know, with the pool, and the poker, and the....” Now he just looked irritated. “Well, you get the idea,” Xander said nervously.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking.... Actually, I, um, I’ve been having these feelings....” Spike was starting to look bored. Well, it’s now or never, he told himself. “Oh, fuck it,” he muttered, and stepped into Spike’s personal space. Xander slid one hand behind the blond’s neck and kissed him before he could change his mind.

Spike’s lips were softer than he’d expected. They weren’t doing anything, just sort of sitting there like...lips, but he liked the feel of them against his. He pulled back just enough to look into Spike’s eyes, which were wide with surprise. At least he didn’t look like he was disgusted.

Spike opened his mouth to speak, but Xander hushed him. “No, don’t, just...don’t say anything, okay?” He leaned back in for another kiss. For a brief moment, he thought Spike kissed him back, but then the vampire pulled away.

“Xander,” he said softly, “this....” The vampire took a deep, unnecessary breath. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?” Xander asked.

Spike had given him the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech. It basically sucked. With a casual, “See you on Sunday,” that had actually sounded kind of forced to his ears, Spike had left him standing there beside the car.

When he’d first started hanging out with Spike, supposedly trying to disprove that stupid second vision, he hadn’t thought about what he’d do if the vision was true. Or could be true, if only Spike would.... He’d never imagined that he’d want it to be true, or that he could feel this lost.

It was that stupid demon’s fault! If it wasn’t dead already, Xander would be more than happy to kill it again.

When the phone rang, he ignored it just as he’d been doing all day. He checked his watch. Only a couple hours to go before this lousy day was finally over, and then he’d be forced to make the decision of whether he should go to the poker game and act as if nothing had happened, of whether he and Spike could ‘just be friends’. Xander didn’t want to not be friends with him, but he wasn’t sure if he could pretend he didn’t also want more than that.

Willow’s voice came on the machine; no surprise there. She sounded frantic with worry; no surprise there, either. What was unusual was the message. This time she didn’t ask him if he was all right, and beg him to call her.

“Xander,” she hissed, “I know you’re there. Well, I don’t know it, know it, but I.... That’s not what I’m calling about. I’m at the Magic Box, and you have to get down here. I mean it, Xander, it’s important. Buffy’s...” She hesitated before continuing in an even softer voice. “...done something. You really need to get down here. Now, Xander, please, it’s important.” He heard voices in the background. “Oops, gotta go! Hurry!”

Xander sat up, and Smudgie jumped to the floor with an annoyed meow. Well, that was totally unfair! How dare she pique his curiosity like that and then not tell him what was going on? For the first time that day, he wasn’t thinking about Spike, and that felt good. She and Buffy probably just wanted to get him out of the apartment, but he didn’t think Willow would be that underhanded and devious.

Then he remembered that Buffy didn’t know why he was locked up in his apartment and not returning their phone calls, which made him really start to wonder what Buffy could have done to get Willow in such a tizzy. And how he was involved. Things were going pretty good between him and Buffy, except for the hanging out with Spike thing. Xander’s chest tightened painfully. Oh, god, what if Buffy had staked Spike?

He hadn’t showered that morning and he knew he probably looked like crap, but he didn’t let that slow him down. He’d changed out of his sweats and raced to the car, drove madly, and pulled up outside the Magic Box in record time. The car had barely stopped moving when he jumped out, slammed the door closed, and dashed across the sidewalk to the front door of the shop, barely noticing the unfamiliar car parked out front where usually only his and Giles’ cars sat this late at night.

He pushed the door open, ignoring the irritating jingle of the bell, and strode into the Magic Box. He froze as he took in the tableau before him. Willow, Buffy, and Angel stood around the research table.

“What’s he doing here?” Xander ground out between clenched teeth.

“Hello to you, too, Xander,” Angel said facetiously.

Willow raced up to him. “Xander,” she said breathlessly, “you’re here! What a surprise!” She grabbed his arm and clung to him, whispered, “B-Buffy called him to take care of Spike.”

“Take care of Spike?” he repeated incredulously. “Like, what, stake him?”

“No, just...take him,” Buffy said defensively.

“Take him?” Xander repeated her words again, confused.

“Back to LA,” Willow whispered.

“Why?” Xander asked, confused. Yeah, Buffy hadn’t liked the idea that he and Spike were doing things together, but this seemed a bit extreme, even for her.

“Because I saw you,” Buffy said, her own teeth clenched. “Last night.”

“You saw...?” Understanding hit, and Xander blushed violently in mortified dread. Wonderful, someone had witnessed his humiliation. Just what he needed to make this his best day ever. “So?” he managed to get out evenly. “How does that...?” He pointed to Angel.

“He can’t stay here! He’s got to go!” Buffy said, determined.

“Again, why? If you’re going to get rid of everyone who turns my romantic overtures down, you’ll have to start with, well, you,” Xander said, trying to joke about it.

“Oh, Xander,” Willow commiserated at Xander’s revelation, squeezing his arm in sympathy.

“He’s a menace,” Buffy snarled.

“He helps us fight,” Xander countered.

“He’s evil.”

“You trusted him with Dawn!”

“I want him gone!” Buffy yelled angrily, surprising Xander with her vitriol.

“He’s not some possession you can just throw away when it becomes inconvenient to have him around,” he said, trying to inject some calm into a discussion that was spiraling out of control.

“Well, isn’t that a breath of fresh air?” Spike said from behind him. “Not that I need to breathe.”

Xander stiffened. Oh, god. This was certainly not how he’d pictured their next meeting.

Spike moved farther into the room and stood beside Xander, looked over at him. “Hey,” he said.

Xander wanted to cry, instead he said, “Hey,” back.

Spike looked him over. “You’ve looked better.”

“Thanks.”

“Spike!”

“Buffy,” Spike drawled.

“Spike,” Angel said.

“Wanker.”

Angel rolled his eyes.

“Please, don’t stop on account of me, I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” Spike snarked, but Xander could hear the underlying hurt in his voice. Funny, he’d never have noticed that before. When no one said anything, Spike said, “Oh, come on! You were on such a roll before I interrupted.”

“I want you out of Sunnydale,” Buffy spat.

“Well, that’s too bad, innit? ‘Cause I ain’t leavin’,” Spike flippantly replied.

Buffy took a step towards Spike, and Xander, without conscious thought, moved in front of the vampire. “Just...stop it,” he said. While Buffy and Spike glared at each other, he glanced over at Angel, who looked as confused as he felt. “And you!” he said. “Why are you here, anyway?”

Angel glanced at Buffy before he answered. “I was under the impression that Spike was hurting you.”

“I said ‘going to hurt him’,” Buffy muttered.

Xander’s laugh was brittle. He’d been hurt, but not the way Angel thought. “And you came running because you, what, cared?” he scoffed. “I’m touched, really.”

“I was worried,” Angel said.

“About me? You’re kidding, right?” Angel’s gaze moved to Buffy. “Oh, right, worried about Buffy. What was I thinking?” he asked sarcastically. “Tell me, don’t you have anything better to do up there in LA than to jump every time Buffy snaps her fingers?”

Buffy huffed, but Xander ignored her. That might have been a bit of an exaggeration on his part, but he wasn’t in the mood to examine his own actions right now.

“Well, let me set the record straight,” he continued, “so you don’t have to worry anymore. Okay? Spike hasn’t h-hurt me,” he stumbled over the word. “He whomps my ass at pool, he steals my oreos when we play poker, and he tries to scare me to death on that damned bike, but he hasn’t hurt me.”

“I know what I saw, Xander, and you can’t trust him,” Buffy insisted.

“No, Buffy, you don’t know what you saw....”

“He was kissing you!” she blurted.

Xander wanted to crawl into a hole and just die. He knew his face had turned a deep shade of red, but he managed to form the words to say, “You’re wrong, Buffy.” He swallowed hard. “I kissed Spike. He told me, very politely, that he wasn’t interested in being more than friends. And you’re hardly in a position to fault him for that,” he added spitefully. “And, by the way, thanks so much for throwing my love life, or lack thereof, open to public scrutiny. I appreciate it. Really.”

Buffy looked remorseful. “I’m sorry, Xander, but you can’t trust him. He’s not good. He’s an evil demon. And he’s certainly not good enough for you!” she told him passionately.

“Was good enough when you needed to scratch an itch,” Spike muttered in a hurt voice.

The room froze. Then Xander slowly turned his head to look at the vampire who was standing so close behind him it seemed that he’d spoken right into Xander’s ear. Spike looked both like he wished he could take the words back and mulishly defiant at the same time. He refused to look at Xander, his eyes locked on Buffy. The room exploded with sound.

“You’re such a pig, Spike!”

“You slept with Spike?” Xander asked Buffy. His heart felt like it was being squeezed, and his stomach roiled.
“You slept with Spike?” Willow squeaked.

“You slept with Spike?” Angel growled.

Xander swayed. Spike reached out to steady him. “Xander?” he called softly.

Xander took a step forward, pulling away from Spike’s touch. “I’m leaving,” he said. He looked at Angel. “Go home. And leave Spike alone.”

“Xan.” Spike reached for him again as Xander turned towards the door.

“Don’t touch him!” Buffy erupted. She jumped towards Spike and drew her fist back.

“Buffy, no!” Willow cried.

Xander turned back. “Don’t...,” he began, and then Buffy’s fist punched him in the jaw and he fell back into Spike.

“Oh, no, Xander! Are you all right?” Willow cried.

“Ow,” Xander said, reaching up to make sure his jaw hadn’t been broken.

“You stupid bint!” Spike growled.

“Shut up, Spike! Oh, god, Xander, are you all right?”

Buffy looked horrified that she’d hit him. He knew she hadn’t meant to, had seen her eyes widen when he stepped into the path of her fist, and knew she’d tried to pull her punch, but even so, she packed quite a wallop. Xander pushed away from Spike and straightened. “I’m fine,” he assured her, testing his jaw. “Might be drinking milkshakes for a week, or so, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

“I’m so sorry, Xander, I didn’t mean....”

“I know you didn’t,” he said, “but you can’t just react to everything with violence. All of this...” He spread his arms wide. “...could have been avoided if you’d bothered to talk to me first, before jumping to conclusions.”

Buffy opened her mouth to defend herself, but Xander forestalled her. “I’m tired, and sore, and humiliated quite enough for one night, thank you. I’m going home.” He glared at Angel. “Don’t forget what I said.”

“Xander?”

“Not now, Will,” he said sadly. “I just can’t.”

“O-okay,” she agreed.

He gave her as much of a smile as his aching jaw and heart allowed. Just before he reached the door, Angel said, “Buffy’s right, you know, Xander. You may not want to believe it, but Spike’s a demon. He’s evil, and he’ll turn on you. That’s just the way things are.”

“Sod off,” the vampire in question muttered angrily.

Xander paused, one hand on the door handle. He looked back at Angel over his shoulder. “You mean, he might go all psycho and try to kill all my friends?” he asked sarcastically.

Angel had the grace to look guilty, but he continued gamely. “That’s just my point, Xander. What do you think will happen when Spike gets rid of that chip? And he will.”

Xander looked at Spike, and then back to Angel. “I’d trust a chipless Spike more than I’d ever trust you, soul or no soul,” he said, and then pulled the door open and left.

Spike had followed him to the car. Xander opened the door and then turned to him. “Don’t, please,” he said. “I just can’t.”

Spike clenched his jaw, and nodded. “You gonna be all right?”

Xander laughed, a bitter and slightly hysterical sound, even to his own ears. He needed to get out of there before he lost it completely. He slid behind the wheel and started the car. He thought he heard Spike call, “See ya tomorrow, yeah?” as he pulled away.

He’d arrived home just in time to make it to the bathroom so he didn’t have to clean up vomit. The rest of the night and early morning had been spent with an ice pack on his jaw while he felt sorry for himself.

Of course Spike would choose Buffy. Not only was she beautiful, she was a match for him in strength. He’d known that Spike had had a crush on Buffy, but that had seemed to run its course. Except it hadn’t, because they’d secretly been sleeping with each other. Well, that sucked. So much for stupid visions.

The tears finally came; hot, burning tears of pain, and loss, and humiliation that sent him into an exhausted, restless slumber. He’d woken up late the next morning, a warm bundle of fur tucked under his chin, and hadn’t bothered to move from the couch except to pee and get another ice pack, and to put down some food for Smudgie. He flipped through the stations, watching the clock more than the television as it crept inexorably towards poker time.

Four o’clock came and went, and still he stared at the clock until he finally roused himself to take a shower. Anything to take his mind off Spike. Plus he was starting to stink enough to offend even himself. He was back on the couch, mindlessly watching the television while Smudgie kneaded his thigh, when a knock at the door sounded. Xander ignored it. He didn’t want to see anyone, much less be ‘encouraged’ to talk.

“Xander, I know you’re in there!” Spike called as he pounded on the door.

Xander glanced out the balcony doors, surprised to see that the sun had set already. He knew he couldn’t hide from vampire senses, but he remained stubbornly silent anyway.

“Xander,” Spike coaxed. “Brought you a pressie.”

“Go away,” he muttered sulkily. Who needed stupid vampires bearing presents anyway?

“Don’t you even want to know what it is?”

“No.” Beat. “What?”

There was a smile in Spike’s voice when he said, “Let me in, and you can see.”

Xander fought a brief internal battle. Who was he kidding? He didn’t want to lose Spike’s friendship, even though the vampire had no interest in taking things farther. Besides, he had brought Xander a present. He pushed himself up off the couch and trudged over to the door. He undid the locks and pulled it open.

His breath caught when he saw Spike. The vampire was lounging against the doorframe, holding a milkshake. Xander couldn’t move. He blinked back tears. It would really help if Spike wasn’t being so nice to him. Big jerk!

“It’s chocolate,” Spike wheedled, tempting Xander with it.

Xander reached out and snatched it from Spike’s hand, and then walked back over to the couch. Spike followed him into the apartment and closed the door. Xander heard the sounds of Spike removing his duster and throwing it over the back of one of the chairs.

“You didn’t come over,” he commented without accusation as he plopped down on the couch beside Xander. He picked up the remote and began flipping channels. Smudgie started sniffing at the newcomer, and Spike reached down absently to pet her.

“No, I...couldn’t,” Xander said.

“Too bad. Flem missed you.”

Xander frowned at him. Spike grinned.

“Said you’re the only one who laughs at his jokes.”

Xander rolled his eyes, unsure whether Spike was just pulling his leg, and took a sip of the shake.

“What’s its name?” Spike asked.

“Hmm?” Xander looked over to see that Smudgie had climbed onto Spike’s lap and was happily exploring. Lucky cat. “Oh, um, Smudgie....” He mumbled her name under his breath.

“What?” Spike asked as he rubbed the kitten behind its ears.

“Smudgie the Wonder Cat,” Xander replied louder. He refused to look at Spike. The vampire snickered, and Xander couldn’t resist turning narrowed eyes on him.

“Smudgie the Wonder Cat?” Spike repeated incredulously.

“Yes.” Xander’s look dared him to make fun.

“Why?”

“Because she....” At that moment something caught Smudgie’s attention and she leapt off Spike’s lap, eliciting a yelp as her tiny claws dug in, and pounced, rolling and snarling. “She does that. All the time,” Xander said. “Kinda reminds me of Superman, or...Mighty Mouse, or something.”

“Ahh,” Spike said as he rubbed his leg. “How’s your jaw?” he asked, looking at the lovely bruise Xander sported.

He shrugged in reply. Spike reached out to touch it, and Xander pulled back.

“Xander, just let me....”

Xander held still while Spike gently probed his jaw. The gentle touch turned to a light prod, and Xander said, “Careful! If you hurt me, you’ll.... Ow!”

“Ow! Oh, bloody hell!” Spike pulled his fingers away from Xander and pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead.

“You all right?” Xander asked worriedly as he rubbed his jaw.

“Oh, hell, yeah,” Spike said, leaning his head back onto the couch.

Xander snorted, and leaned back, too. “Yeah, we’re quite a pair,” he sighed. He felt Spike’s eyes on him, but refused to turn and meet them.

“We should talk,” Spike offered.

“Can we not?” Xander replied.

“Xan....”

“And quit being so nice to me! It just makes things harder.” He crossed one arm over his chest defensively, and took another sip of the shake.

“You’re such a git,” Spike responded softly.

Xander closed his eyes. “I don’t think your heart was in that,” he said. “I know you can do better. Try again.”

“Xander....”

“No,” he said desperately. “I don’t want to do or say anything else that I can’t take back.” Christ, what a tangled web he’d woven. “Look,” he added, “oddly enough, your friendship is important to me, and I don’t want to do anything that would ruin it any more than I already have.”

“Didn’t ruin it,” Spike mumbled.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

Spike finally broke it. “Never said I wasn’t interested.”

Xander was confused. “What?”

“Last night, you told Buffy I said I wasn’t interested. Never said that.”

“You said it wasn’t a good idea, that we should just remain friends,” Xander insisted.

“Well, it is a bad idea!” Spike said. “You’re human, I’m a vampire. You’re all goody-goody, and I’m evil. Well, I am!” he growled at Xander’s look.

He held up a hand and gave Spike a ‘whatever’ roll of his eyes.

“And look what happened last night! Huh? Tried to make sure somethin’ like that didn’t happen, and look how well that turned out. It happened anyway! It doesn’t pay to be nice and think of others,” he muttered. “I should have just taken what I wanted and been done with it.”

Xander stared at Spike with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You, you bloody git!” Spike yelled. “You think I couldn’t smell you? Feel you hard against my back when we drove up the coast? You know how bloody difficult it was to not throw you down and take you every time you looked at me like you wanted to eat me up?”

The blood drained out of Xander’s face. “No! I didn’t know! And...oh, my god, you knew?” he squeaked. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, and he thought he might be hyperventilating, though he’d never done that before.

“Xan? Xander.” Spike reached out for him. “Breathe.” He took the milkshake and set it down, and then pulled Xander into his arms. “Come on, luv, just breathe, that’s it.”

“I can’t believe you knew! Why didn’t you say anything?” He was mortified. Again. How many times could you be mortified in such a short period before you just sank into the ground?

Spike shrugged. “Didn’t know what you were up to, did I? One minute you hate me, the next you’re hanging around like we’re best friends, smelling all sweet and....”

“Y-you think I smell sweet?”

“You’re all right,” Spike allowed.

“Are we friends?” Xander asked. Spike sniffed. Xander poked him in the side. “Are we?”

“S’pose. Maybe....”

“Maybe? Maybe what?”

“Maybe...more.”

“More? So, you’re not not interested?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Already said that, didn’t I?”

Xander’s eyes got big. If he wasn’t being held in Spike’s arms he’d wonder if he’d died and gone to Heaven. He closed his eyes. “Am I dead?” he asked. This was the Hellmouth, after all.

“Does this still hurt?” Spike asked, and then lightly poked his bruise.

“Um, yeah.” Xander rubbed his jaw.

“Then you’re not dead,” Spike said.

“Dreaming?” Xander posited.

“You have dreams like this often?” Spike teased.

Xander blushed. If only Spike knew.

Spike laughed. “You do! Gonna tell me about it?” he asked.

“No!”

“Come on, Xanderrr, tell me about it.” He pouted. “Or better yet,” he said huskily as he tilted Xander’s head back, “show me.”

Xander only had time to open his eyes before Spike’s lips were touching his. They were just as soft as he remembered, only this time, they weren’t just sitting there. They were moving over his, and Xander couldn’t help responding. Spike pulled back, and Xander opened his mouth to say...something—stop, why are you stopping?—but he’d never know which, because Spike swooped back in and took his lips in an open-mouthed kiss that was slow and sensual and had Xander hard in seconds.

“Spike, what...?”

“Shh, Xan, just let me kiss you, all right? Been wantin’ to kiss you.”

“Okay,” he breathed. Xander wasn’t sure what was going on, he hadn’t even had time to process everything Spike had said, and now this. The physical sensation was amazing, but it was the knowledge that Spike was kissing him, that nearly overwhelmed him.

Spike once more covered Xander’s lips with his, and Xander moaned into the vampire’s mouth as his groin swelled and his pants tightened. One hand came up to rest on Spike’s shoulder. Spike’s tongue darted out and tasted his lips, then slipped into his mouth and flicked at his tongue. Xander groaned, and moved his hand up Spike’s neck and into his hair. Cupping the back of his head, Xander deepened the kiss. It was Spike’s turn to moan as Xander’s tongue slid over his.

Spike’s hand moved down to cup his ass, and when Xander bit the other man’s lip, Spike squeezed. “Oh, yeah,” Xander moaned. “Oh, yeah, Spike, that’s....”

The vampire shut him up with another kiss. Xander lost track of time; it felt as if they’d been kissing for hours, but he knew that couldn’t be right, because he was still achingly hard, and he was certain he’d have blown long before then. Spike pulled back and looked down into Xander’s eyes. “Can I touch you?” he asked softly.

Xander blinked and tried to focus. “A-aren’t you?” he asked, slightly confused.

Spike smiled. “Can I touch you here?” he asked, and then placed his hand over Xander’s groin, squeezing firmly, and pulling on his cock hard enough to make Xander’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Y-yes!” he gasped, lifting his hips into Spike’s hand. “Yes, oh, god, Spike....”

“Touch me, Xander,” Spike whispered, and Xander’s eyes went wide. “Please.”

Xander hooked his arm around Spike’s neck and leaned in for another kiss as his other hand slid slowly down Spike’s chest, eagerly and fully exploring territory he’d previously touched platonically, though he’d ogled it lasciviously on many occasions.

Spike moaned when Xander’s fingertips brushed over a nipple. Xander pulled back and spoke against Spike’s lips. “Love how you kiss.”

“Yeah?” Spike asked, sounding surprised.

“Oh, yeah,” Xander breathlessly responded, and then nibbled on Spike’s lips while he traced the ridges of his abs through his t-shirt. “Amazing.” His hand moved lower, and then he hesitated. “I don’t know if I’ll do this right,” he said nervously.

Spike’s fingers wormed their way between Xander’s thighs, and he lifted one leg to facilitate their movement. Spike rubbed his balls, gently squeezed. “Want it so much, don’t think you can do it wrong, Xan,” Spike assured him.

“Huh?” Xander couldn’t remember what they were talking about.

Spike quickly reminded him. “Xander, if you don’t bloody touch me....”

Xander touched him, tentatively laying his palm over the vampire’s swollen shaft. He pressed, and then shifted his hand.

“Oh, hell! Yes, that’s.... Harder!”

Xander’s eyes slid closed as he kissed Spike again. The taste and feel of his other kisses were burned deeply into his memory, and he wanted more. Spike’s hand moved around Xander’s hip. Spike cupped Xander’s ass and tugged at him as he slid down the back of the couch until he was reclining and Xander was laying half on top of him. Xander’s eyes shot open when his cock rubbed against Spike’s.

Spike was grinning up at him. “Like that?”

“Oh, yeah,” was all he could say. Xander tightened his arm around Spike’s neck and shifted his hips to align his hardness with Spike’s. He lifted his head...and came nearly eye-to-eye with Smudgie. He froze.

“What’s wrong?” Spike asked.

“I-I can’t do this,” Xander said.

“What are you bloody...?”

“She’s watching us!”

Spike frowned, and then slowly turned his head. He rolled his eyes at Xander. “Then put her on the bloody floor,” he suggested impatiently, squeezing Xander’s ass and giving an encouraging lift of his own hips.

“Guh,” Xander responded. He grasped Smudgie by the scruff of her neck and reached over the arm of the couch to drop her lightly to the floor. She mewed in protest, and then stalked across the floor, her tail held high.

“Okay,” Xander said against Spike’s neck. “She’s gone. I’m ready.”

Spike’s hands were still on Xander’s ass, and he kneaded his cheeks. “You sure, pet? Wouldn’t want ta....”

“Shut up, Spike,” Xander said softly. He bit down on Spike’s earlobe, and pressed his hips against Spike’s.

The apartment was quickly filled with grunts and rasping breaths as both men thrust against each other. Xander’s entire being was tingling with pleasure. Heat exploded in his belly and suffused his body, then concentrated in his groin, and drove him to push harder and faster into Spike.

Unsurprisingly, given his attraction to Spike and recent, close reacquaintance with his right hand, it wasn’t long before his balls tightened. “Oh, god, Spike.” It was too soon. He wanted more, but he couldn’t stop it. His hips bucked frantically, and then he stiffened and unloaded.

“Xander...hell, Xan!” Spike’s grip on his ass tightened, and the body beneath him shuddered. He could feel the sensation of Spike’s cock pulsing against his stomach, and then the other man slumped.

Xander, whose body had completely melted, relaxed onto Spike. “That was...nice. Very nice,” he added before Spike could protest. He rested his cheek on Spike’s shoulder, fingering the hair at the back of his neck with one hand and tracing a nipple with the other. He sighed. “You were right,” he said resignedly.

“‘Course I was,” Spike mumbled. “‘Bout what?”

“We should talk,” Xander replied. He really, really didn’t want to tell Spike about the vision, but he didn’t want to start their relationship, or whatever this was, and they needed to talk about that, too, with him withholding information. Maybe he wouldn’t have to give Spike all the gory details of the vision, though he wouldn’t mind putting them all into practice, but if he knew Spike, the vampire would want to know every minutiae.

“Talking’s overrated,” Spike said immediately. “Can’t we just do more of this?” He wiggled his hips.

“You’re the one who wanted to talk!” Xander said, lifting his head and looking down at Spike, who had the grace to look sheepish.

“Only so we could do this,” he admitted. “And we have, and will again, so it’s all good, yeah?” He looked hopeful.
“No!”

Spike’s face fell.

“We need to talk. There’s stuff I need to tell you, and I need to know what this means. And we have to tell Buffy and Willow. And Giles. And Anya. Heh. That’ll be fun.” Xander really hoped Anya wasn’t going to hold a grudge.

“Do we have to?” Spike whined. “You saw what happened....”

“Buffy could hardly react any worse,” Xander said.

“She could stake me!”

“She’s not going to stake you.”

“And who’s going to protect me, pet, you?”

Xander narrowed his eyes.

“She’s the Slayer,” Spike added, “not some bint off the street.”

“She’ll understand....”

“How can you say that after last night?”

“All right,” Xander conceded, “she might not understand, but she’ll accept.” Spike didn’t look convinced. “She’s my friend, and she wants me to be happy....” Spike snorted in disbelief. Xander grinned slyly. “You’ll just have to make sure I’m kept happy.”

Spike’s eyes darkened. “That right?”

Xander’s breath caught. “Oh, yeah.”

“You really think I kiss good?” Spike asked.

“Good doesn’t even come close,” Xander said. “Didn’t Buffy ever...?”

“We didn’t get that...personal,” Spike said. “More like, wham, bam, thank you, Spike. Without the thank you.”

“Oh,” Xander replied. “Sorry. Except...” He shrugged. “...I guess I’m not, really, since you’re here, now.” Spike blinked in surprise. “Will you kiss me again?” Xander asked.

Spike gave a half smile, and slid one hand up Xander’s back to press his head down. “Always,” he sighed against Xander’s lips, and then kissed him again.

The End

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