Written ForThe Colour, Sound and Random Object Spander Ficathon.
For Bear, who wanted: anything that's not too dark or angsty
Preferred rating and genre (ie NC-17, H/C, schmoop, angst, etc)
Your Colour: erise
Your Sound:  a theremin's shrill oscillation(think of that wierd sound in "Good Vibrations")
Your Random Object: David Bowie album or CD
Two things you'd like included: A WH Auden poem (your choice) and set once they are in a relationship.
Two things you don't want included: Spike or Xander as helpless, Xander's eye suddenly reappearing!

Came in at just under 5000 words.
Rating:   NC-17
Genre:  Mostly comedy with a dose of fluff.

Set several years after the fall of Sunnydale.  Spike and Xander are a couple and they now live in England.  I haven’t gone into how they got together.  I didn’t consider it important for this story, so feel free to use your own imagination.

Concrit:   Welcome by private email only   sukibluekitty@aol.com
Flames are not welcome and I’ll tell! ~blows raspberry~
Feedback:  Smash me in the face with it.

Thanks to psycho Jo and her black and white crow for the conversation that led me to say, “I wish it could be forever Sunday.” Ahhh, inspiration!!!

Forever Sunday

Suki Blue

Xander twisted in Spike’s arms and placed a gentle, almost chaste kiss onto his cool lips. “Love you. We’ll get our forever.  Somehow.”


“Love you too.  Together forever…even if we have to ram a hot poker up Angel’s arse to do it.”


Xander smiled and picked up the book. “Let’s do this and go pack.”




“L.A.  A real forever is waiting.”




One week earlier


Xander stood at the door and willed the woman to just go away.  He didn’t want a brand new kitchen.  He wasn’t interested in a brand new kitchen and he didn’t want to think about a brand new kitchen.  And since when did companies cold-call on a Sunday? He sighed and repeated himself. “We really don’t need a new kitchen.  The one we have is only a couple of years old and, more importantly, we mostly eat takeout.”


The woman cocked her head and smiled sympathetically. “Oh, poor love, you sound tired.  Are you tired?”


Xander’s eye widened in surprise at the concern in the woman’s voice. What a nice lady! “Yeah, I am a little tired.  I had to work yesterday.”


“Oh, dear.  Poor lamb.  I certainly know how you feel.  I don’t normally work Sundays, but the company is doing this special offer and I’m one of the unfortunates that gets to try and sell it.”


“That sucks.”


“That it does.  I’ll be back to normal hours next week, though, so roll-on next Sunday. I’ll be able to spend some quality time with my family then.”


Xander smiled and understood.  Work had been a real pain recently and Xander was constantly craving more quality time with his lover.  More often than not, Sundays were their only real opportunity to be together, undisturbed and alone. “I get that.  I wish that it could be forever Sunday.  I’d love to spend some time with it just being me and Spike.”


The woman smiled back and picked up her briefcase. “Done.”


Xander watched with a small sense of foreboding as the woman emitted a ‘pop!’ and promptly went up in a puff of smoke.


“Oh, shit.”




A panicking Spike threw open the front door and charged inside his home. “What the bloody hell is going on?! Pet? Bloody hell, where are you?”


“Hey, Spike, love of my life, vampire of all vampires.  What’s up?” Xander asked casually as he stepped out from the kitchen.


Spike stopped in his tracks and eyed his lover suspiciously. “You’re moving.”




Spike flapped a hand. “You’re…animated.”


“I so don’t understand what that means.  Did you get high again?”


“No! Well, yeah, but…Xan, have you been outside?”


“No way! I was watching Corry.  Couldn’t miss the aftermath of killer Katy.”


Spike faltered. “Bugger, I’d forgotten about that. Bollocks.  You didn’t think to tape it by any chance?”


“As a matter of fact, I not only taped Coronation Street, but I got Emmerdale for you too.”


Spike folded Xander into a warm embrace. “Thanks, luv.  Always think of me, you do.”


“Spike?” Xander asked from within his vampire cocoon.


“Yeah, pet?”


“What were you freaking out about just now?”


“Fuck, yeah, forgot.  Everything stopped.”


“Enough with the cryptic.”


“Ain’t being cryptic,” Spike insisted, reluctantly pulling away and sparking up a cigarette. “People, animals, fucking birds, they’re all…motionless, like statues.  It’s like they’ve been frozen in time.”


“Ah,” Xander said, his face unfolding into an expression of pure guilt.


“Ah,” Spike repeated, just to make sure he’d got it right. “What does, ‘ah’ mean?”


“Ah, means that I *may* have inadvertently…fucked up.”


“Xander,” Spike warned.


“Okay, okay. This woman came to the door and tried to sell me a kitchen…”


“We already got a kitchen.”


“Really? I can’t say I noticed,” Xander replied, sarcastically. “Anyway, so we got to talking…”


“Talking? Why were you talking? She make a move on you?”




“Sorry, go on.”


“We got to talking about working and being tired and liking Sundays, ‘cos that’s the day you get to be with your family and stuff and I-I…I kinda mentioned that I wished that it could be forever Sunday.”


“You wished? You bloody wished!?! Jesus wept buckets of blood, you, Hellmouth born, *wished* that Sunday would last forever?”


Xander hung his head. “Yeah,” he said glumly. “What did I do?”


“You stopped sodding time, that’s what you did!”


“Are you sure? How can you be sure? Are you sure? How sure?”


Spike pointed at the clock on the wall. “Bloody sure.  Look, it stopped.”


“Maybe the batteries died?”


“Maybe your brain cells died.”




Spike rolled his eyes and took Xander by the hand. “Come on.  Let’s go out.  I’ll show you.”




Spike parked the Desoto in the centre of town and turned off the stereo. “There you go.  Everyone gone to sleep standing up.  And look at the clock, pet.  It’s stuck at eight thirty-five, just like the clock at home.  Believe me, now?”


“Um, I kinda believed it before.  Just didn’t wanna.  I really did this?”


“Well, taking into account your knack for getting into trouble, add the wish to that and then throw in the fact that we seem to be the only ones left walking about, yeah, I’m pretty confident that you did this.”


“Shit, Spike.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean for it to happen.”


“Hush, pet.  Don’t worry about it.  Spike’ll sort it out.”


“Oh, well, don’t I feel just so much better.”


Spike ignored the comment. “C’mon, let’s just go home, grab some books and do the old research thing.”


Xander brightened. “We could call Giles! Or Angel!”


Spike growled. “Better still, let's not.  And besides, it’s more than likely that they’ve turned into Pompeii-people too.  Not much change there, then.” Spike’s growl disappeared and a small chuckle replaced it.


“It might be an improvement on Angel’s personality, at least.  Maybe he’s more…bouncy.”


“Maybe, pet.  Maybe.” Spike turned the stereo back on and changed the CD to David Bowie.  Let's Dance flooded the car and Xander suddenly thought how ironic the song was.  Not too many people able to dance on this night.




Six hours, seven cups of tea, twenty one cigarettes and three arguments later and Xander was no closer to understanding how to undo his wish and, quite frankly, his vampire had begun to piss him off.


“Spike, we’ve been right through all these books.  There’s nothing here.”


“There has to be.”


“I don’t think so.  We need better books.”


“What’s wrong with our books?”


Xander picked one up.  “The Children's Encyclopaedia of Magik,” he read.


“Oi, that’s got some really useful information, I’ll have you know.”


Xander flicked through the pages. “No it doesn’t…oh, wait a minute…yes it does. Oh my god!”




“That’s her,” Xander stated, pointing to a colourfully drawn picture of a middle aged woman.


“Yeah? Sure?”


Xander nodded firmly. “Positive.”


“Right, give it ‘ere, then.   Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”


Xander passed the book over and leant back into the comfort of the couch.  A nail was chewed on in anticipation of the result. “Well? What does it say?”


Spike frowned at the pages for a few moments before he spoke. “It says here that she’s a wish demon.”


“A wish demon.  Well, that just made six hours of research so totally worth it.”


“Hold your horses, pet, there’s more.  This type of Wish Demon is only found in the darkest corners of Surrey, England.”


“At least that explains what it’s doing in Redhill.  It’s not like it can get much darker.  I reckon there are demons all over this town.”


“There are,” Spike enlightened. “Those drunks that hang out in the Quadrant, they’re Piz’hed demons.”




“Yep.  And that old woman that screams abuse at people…”


“That doesn’t really narrow it down.”


“You know, the woman that has a face like the man in the moon.”


“Oh! Crazy ‘old bat’.”


“That’s her. She used to be a very powerful witch.”


“So what happened to her?”


“She accidentally snorted one of her own magical powders.  Sent her bloody barmy, and then some.”




Spike nodded.


“So does she have any powers left?” Xander asked.


“Some.  All fucked up, though.  Poor old bat doesn’t know if she’s coming or going.  That traffic cone that appears on the traffic light at the top of the Brighton Road every Monday morning, she does that.  It’s like an obsessive, compulsive thing.” 


“Huh. I really should have guessed. Anyway, what about this wish demon?”


“Oh, yeah.  Says here that her name is Sheila.”


“There’s only one?”




“What else does it say?”


“Says that she lives life as a human, but she will grant a wish if she comes across a person that she really likes.”


“Likes? So she granted my oh-so-stupid wish because she liked me?”


“That’s what it says.”


“I guess we were kinda sympathising with each other.  What else does it say?”


“Erm…never practice magic without an adult present.  Bloody good advice that is, pet.”


“I don’t doubt it.  Is that really all it says?  Isn’t there anything else, like how we can find her?”


“No, that’s it.”


“Stupid children’s book.”


“Oi, don’t be ungrateful.  This ‘stupid’ children’s book just told us a damn sight more than the rest of these sodding dusty old tomes.”


Xander yawned. “Mmm, s’pose.  What time is it?”


“I would assume it’s still eight-thirty-five.  Plank.”


“Oh yeah.  Can we sleep for a while? I think these books put me to sleep.”


“Yeah, books do that.  Sleep sounds good.  We’ll figure out a plan in the morn…I mean tomorrow…when we wake up.”


“Hey, and it will still be dark when we wake up.  Eternal night.”


“Things are looking up then, luv.”


“Yeah, for you.  C’mon, lover.  Bed.  Snuggles.  Sleep.  Wake-up sex.”


“Wake-up blow job?”


“If you’re a good boy.”





“So I was a…good boy, then?”


“Very…very…very…good,” Xander answered between sucks and licks.


“Was it the all-night…cuddles or the…breakfast in bed? Fuck, yes, that’s so fucking…fuck.”


Xander smiled around the cock in his mouth and drew it in as far as he could, swallowing hard around the swollen shaft.  He felt Spike grab his hair and Xander held firmly onto compact hips as they rose and shuddered towards him.  His lover screamed his completion and Xander closed his eyes and enjoyed the sound of Spike’s joyous cursing.


Xander released the softening shaft from his mouth and crawled up Spike’s body, capturing his mouth in a tender but deep kiss.  The kiss lasted and lasted, the only sound being harsh breaths melting into soft sighs of contentment.  When Xander pulled back, he closed his eye and listened.


Spike ran his hands over Xander’s arms and pulled him back down to lay against his chest. “You look like you’re in deep thought,” he observed.


“I was just listening.”


Spike was confused. “To what? I can’t hear anything.”




“I realise that we both have after-orgasm brains but, what the fuck?”


“There are no sounds, Spike.  Listen, nothing.  Nothing at all.  No chirpy birds.  The neighbour’s damn annoying Boxer isn’t barking.  The neighbours opposite aren’t shouting.  And thank the gods, the old lady next door is sooo not playing her organ.  We’re alone, Spike.  No-one to disturb us.  No-one to tell us how loud we can play our music.  No-one to bang on the wall when we have loud sex.  No-one to tell us that we have to go out when all we want to do is spend days and days in bed.  No more work!! I never have to get up again.  This is so great!”


Spike laughed and began an assault on Xander’s neck. “Made some good points, there.  Maybe we can enjoy things how they are, just for a while. Fancy some loud sex, then?”


Xander nodded enthusiastically. “Always.”


“Roll over, then, luv.  Spread that ass and take the pounding that’s coming.”


And Xander did.




“What are we doing again, pet?”


“I just gotta know…oh, there’s one, pull over!”


“Right.” Spike parked up on the curb and turned off the engine. “Good choice, pet.  He’s kinda hot.”


“Hey! Forever Sunday can get pretty boring when your lover never speaks to you again.”


“Didn’t mean it, luv.  No-one is as hot as you.”


“And don’t you forget it.  Now, come and help me.  I don’t want this guy to fall over or anything and…”


“And what? What’s the worried face for?”


“What if he…moves?”


“Moves? Course he ain’t gonna move.  Why would you think that?”


“Don’t you pay attention to the movies? They always come back to life when you get too close.”


“You watch too many horror films.  This ain’t Resident Evil, you know.  I don’t think this bloke is going to suddenly try and eat your brains.”


“Okay, then, if you’re so confident, I’ll give the instructions and you can do it.”


“Do what?”


“Move him.”


“I thought you didn’t want him to move?”


“Not by himself, no, ‘cos that would be scary.  I want *you* to move him.”


“What the hell for?”


“I want to see if they are posable.”




“Yeah, like Dawn was that time.”


At Spike’s confused frown, Xander continued. “Remember, Willow came back to Sunnydale after the whole, trying to destroy the world gig and she got stuck in that cave with that weird ugly thing?”


“Err, vaguely, pet.  I seem to recall being slightly out of my mind round that time.”


“Oh, yeah.  Well, Dawn got scratched by that weird ugly thing and it paralysed her.  But she was posable.  You could move her arms and legs into any position and she would just stay like that.”


Spike grinned and looked over at the frozen man. “Posable, eh? This sounds like fun.” Spike reached out and grabbed an arm.






“Move him slowly.  If he’s not posable you might end up ripping a limb off.”


“You calling me heavy handed?”


“Duh. Yeah. Just look at the near misses I’ve had.  You’re dangerous when you get excited.”


“Always kiss it better, don’t I?”


“Get with the body manipulation, vampire.”


“Right, then. What shall I do?”


“Try moving his arm so it looks like he’s saluting.”


“Right.  How’s that?”


Xander bounced. “That’s great! I so knew that would work! What next? Shall we find more people?”


“Looking to play, luv?”


Xander shrugged and tried to look innocent.  He failed.


“C’mon, pet.  We’ll go hit the pubs.  Lots of people there.”




“That’s it.  Bend him over…now stand that guy right behind…that’s it…take it out…now put it in there…further…further…perfect.”


Spike and Xander stood back and admired their handiwork.


“You have an evil streak a mile wide, luv.”


“I wonder where that came from.  I must have learnt it from someone.”


“We make a good team, don’t we?”


“Yeah, we do.  Shall we have a drink while we’re here? We might as well get it while it’s free.”


“I like your style.  Go pull up a pew, I’ll get ‘em in.  Lager?”


“No way! Bring on the Jack Daniels!”


“Good boy,” Spike said. “I’ll bring the bottle over.”


“Great. Um, Spike?”




“Can you bring over some diet Coke too?”


Cue the sigh and a roll of blue eyes.




Spike half carried his inebriated lover through the door and dumped him on the couch.


Xander was singing.


“I don’t know what it is, that makes me feel like this. I don’t who you are.  But you must be some kind of superstar, ‘cos you got all eyes on you no matter where you arrrrrre.”


“Bloody hell, pet.  I actually quite like that song and you’re destroying it.”


“Sorry, Spikey.  Can I wash your hair? I love your hair…when it’s not all crunchy and ick.”


“Maybe later. Want a coffee?”


“Want to fuck.”


“Sure? You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?”


“*Nooo.* Course not,” Xander giggled. “I just want…want…music!! Yeah, let's play music *really* loud.”


“I thought you wanted to fuck?”


“That was before, silly.  Now, what shall we listen to?”


“I’m gonna go get a beer while you decide.  Want anything?”


“Cheese,” Xander announced firmly and without hesitation.


“Red Leicester, Roulade or mild economy cheddar?”


“Um, red, economy Roulade, please.”


Spike hesitated at the door, slightly confused as to how he was going to manage the request. “Right.  I’ll see what I can do.”


“Pringles!” Xander suddenly shouted. “Bring me Pringles.  Need munchies.”


A muffled acknowledgement from the kitchen and Xander was satisfied.  He scrambled up from the couch and headed to the CD rack.  Now, what did he want to listen to? Bit of punk? Nope.  Punk overload on a daily basis.  Country? Nope.  He wasn’t depressed. Metal? Nope.  There was a definite headache on the way.  How about…?


Spike entered carrying a tray of beer, cheese and Pringles. “I got both flavours.  Wasn’t sure what you fancied.”


“Barbecue,” Xander answered without turning around. Apparently, changing a CD was quite tricky when your stereo wouldn’t quit spinning.


“Right.  I brought the Paprika too.”


Xander pressed play, turned around, barrelled across the room and threw himself at Spike, knocking them both onto the couch.


“I really, really, really, *really* love you,” Xander stated.


“Love you too, pet.” Spike rolled them over so Xander was underneath. “Cheese?”


“Please. Hey! That rhymes. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese, please. Cheese…”


“Xan, stop…Tell me you haven’t just put on the Beachboys?”


“I could tell you, but I’d *so* be lying.”


Good Vibrations blared from the speakers and Spike made a mad dash for the stereo. “NOOOO!!”


The song kicked in and the sound of a theremin's shrill oscillation filled the room and sliced into Spike’s brain.


“Argh, fuck!” A pale hand pawed at the stereo and abruptly shut off the annoying sound.


“Spike? Are you okay? What just happened?”


“That bloody whiney noise.  Not good for my vampire ears. Fucking hate it.”


“Really? How comes I didn’t know that?”


Spike shrugged and rubbed his temples. “Wouldn’t expect you to know that.  Not something I drop into normal conversation.”


“Are any of our conversations normal?”


Spike ambled back to the couch and popped open a beer. “Probably not.”




“S’okay, luv.  Don’t worry yourself.  Learn new stuff about each other everyday.”


Xander grinned. “Is it too late to inform you of my severe allergy to punk?”


“Far too late.”


“Can I make it up to you, Spikey?” Xander slurred.


Spike put down the beer and settled against the cushions. “Yeah, forget the music, forget all sounds except your voice.”




“Just talk to me, pet.”


No-one else mattered. No other sound mattered.  The only sound he would ever need to hear was Xander’s voice, babble and all.


“What shall I talk about?”


Spike considered.  The subject matter was inconsequential. “The price of fish.”


“Okay, well, we don’t really buy a lot of fish, so that’s a tough one.  I quite like smoked salmon, especially that Taste the Difference stuff from Sainsbury’s.  It’s pretty expensive and I can’t eat it if I start thinking about when Angelus murdered Willow’s fish.  It makes me think that I’m eating them. Do you know what I mean?”


Spike smiled and nodded even though he really didn’t.


“Then there’s cod.  If you get it from the chip shop in town it’s really expensive, but that place in Earlswood is so much better and it’s cheaper.”


“I’ve got to agree with you there.”


“Yup. I want a battered sausage. Do we have sausage?”


“I think I could pull one out of somewhere,” Spike said with a wink.


“Was…you…are you being smutty?”


“Me? Naaahh.”






“Fuck now?  I promise to talk dirty.”


“Deal,” Spike said, just before he pounced.




“Wouldn’t it help if you used the key?”


Spiked stopped pounding at the bright cerise garage door and turned around with a glare. “Such insight.  Why Mensa never snapped you up, I’ll never know.”


“Did you want this tea in the mug or shall I pour it over your head and shove the mug up your ass?”


“And that would be called what? Mugging?” Spike countered with a slightly evil smirk.


“Spike, don’t make me get the Jelly Babies mug.  That one could do you a lot of damage.”


Spike softened. “Sorry, pet.  It’s just this bloody door.  Can’t seem to open it.  Stiff as fuck and I can’t find the key.”


“Oh. I think we put the key somewhere special, where we couldn’t lose it.”


“Yeah, I remember that much.  I just can’t remember where the special place was.”


“Hm. Me neither.  Have you tried picking the lock?”


“Yup, I’ve picked, kicked, pounded, smashed and thrown a pretty harsh tantrum and the bloody thing still won’t budge.  Make a sodding good nuclear shelter if we ever need one.”


Xander put down the two mugs and approached the garage door.  He firmly grasped the handle and gave it a twist to the left and good hard tug the right.  There was an audible click and Xander swung the door up and grinned at Spike. “It was unlocked.”




“It’s really stiff.  The previous owner told me about this wiggle thing that you have to do with the handle. And why are you wanting to go in the garage when we haven’t been in it since Willow and Kennedy moved out?”






“They were the last ones in here, weren’t they? We said they could store all their stuff.”




“Yep. C’mon, bring that tea in here, pet.  We got a lot of searching to do.”




Several hours later, the Harris/Bloody living room was half filled with damp, dusty, smelly books.


“Euuw.  This one’s got mould on it, Spike.  Willow’s going to be so upset…and mad.  We said we’d look after her stuff.”


“We did, didn’t we? Right.  So, along with reversing wishes and enchanting a lawnmower, we also need a spell to get rid of all traces of damp.”


“Okay, got it. Wish, wishful thinking and de-damping.  You know this is going to take us an eon to go through, right?”


Spike eyed up the large pile of books. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh.


“We don’t have to rush, though.  I mean, if the answer is here then we’ll find it, but…”


“But what, luv?” Spike asked as he crouched down to where Xander was sitting on the floor.


“Nothing, really.”


Spike trailed his hand through Xander’s hair and then around the empty eye socket. He turned Xander’s head for a small kiss. “What, luv?” he repeated. “Tell me.”


“It’s just that…I’ve really enjoyed this last week.  It’s been like a holiday, a Mini-adventure.  I know that things have to go back the way they were and I wouldn’t want this to really last forever but, it’s just been nice.”




“Yeah, no work, no Angel phoning every five minutes to check that he doesn’t have a great-grandchilde, no Buffy phoning to talk about her boyfriend while we’re trying to have sex, no Giles ‘popping round’ for tea and biscuits when we’re trying to watch Eastenders.  Don’t get me wrong, I love them all and I love my life but sometimes I wish we could just be left alone, just for while.  I sound whiney, don’t I?”


“No, pet.  Not whiney.  Feel the same.  It has been nice.  Look, we’ll take our time, have lots of sex and cuddles between volumes, enjoy the silence while it lasts.  How about that? Sound good?”


“Yeah, sounds real good.”




“I should feel bad about this.”




“Because it’s stealing.”


“Who’s going to find out?”


“Well, no-one, but that doesn’t make it any better.  It’s still stealing.”


“Look, think of it like this,” Spike said as he took control of the unruly shopping cart and guided it over to the fresh bread. “We’re saving the world and it’s hungry work.  Payday ain’t ‘til Monday and if we can’t find a way of reversing the wish, Monday will never get here.  And we can’t reverse the wish on empty stomachs, yeah?”


“Yeah,” Xander said, reluctantly. “But how do we justify the DVDs, the two baskets of cigarettes and the shopping cart full of alcohol?”


“Perks of the job.”


“I see.”


“Bloody hell, don’t get your knickers in a twist about it.  Anyone would be doing the same.  Can you believe that this bread is still fresh?”


“Mmm,” Xander replied, his attention caught by something else.




“Do you think they can hear us?”


“Doubt it.  Why?”


“Because, isn’t that the store manager?”


“Dunno, err, yeah, I think so.  What’s your point?”


“My point is that he might be able to hear us.  We might get banned from the store.”


“Big fucking deal.  We’ll go to Tesco’s.  Bloody sight cheaper…err, normally.”


“Mmm.” Xander was distracted again.


“Now what?!”


“I see cakes,” Xander said in the same tone as the little boy that announced, ‘I see dead people’


“Yeah? They got any of those egg-custard tarts?”


Xander screwed up his nose. “Yes and euw.”


“Well, don’t just stand there.  Go fetch.”


Spike waited until Xander had his head stuffed firmly in the cake fridge before he used his vampire speed to nip over to the meat counter and grab some smiley-face luncheon-meat.  It was Xander’s favourite.  Now, where did they keep the Alphabites?




Xander polished off his finely prepared meal and licked his lips.


“Nice, pet?”


“That was fantastic.  Thank you.  The Scooby-do spaghetti went really well with the meat.”


Spike smiled almost sadly and started to clear away the plates. “Most welcome, pet.  There’s more luncheon-meat, so you can snack later.”


“Spike? Is there something wrong?”


“Nothing wrong, luv…”


“There is something.  You’ve gone all…thinky.”


Spike sighed. “I found it.”


“Found what?” Xander asked with a confused frown.


Spike held up a large black book. “I know how to reverse the wish.”




“Yeah, oh.  We’ve been having a good time.  It seems almost a shame to end it.”


“What do you mean almost? It is a shame.  I’ve loved having you all to myself, no interruptions, no nagging friends, no work, no nosy neighbours, no funny looks and rude comments in the pub.  It’s been great.  I know time has stopped and I know that isn’t right, but, it's kinda made me feel…eternal.  I realise that sounds stupid.”


“Not stupid.”


“You have eternity.  I have, what, 60 years? 70 if I’m lucky.  That’s a big difference.  This week has made me feel like I can have you forever.”


“You want me forever?” Spike asked.


“Of course! Have I not made that clear? I love you and it kills me that I’ll grow old and die while you get to…”


“Live eternity without you?”


“Yeah,” Xander said, sadly. “Sometimes the feeling is unbearable.”


“It’s unbearable for me too.”


“I know there is an easy way round this.  You could turn me and there wouldn’t be a problem.  But…”


“You don’t want that,” Spike snapped.


“No! I mean yes, no.” Xander shook his head. “I just want to be me.  If you could turn me and keep me as me and not some bloodthirsty demon, no offence to present company, then I’d ask you to do it in a second.  I want you.  Forever.”


Spike shot forward and grabbed Xander by the tops of his arms. “We could find a way, a way to keep your soul.  We could be together forever, we could.  You and me, Xan.  Hell, I’d even be willing to go see Peaches to find a way.”


“Oh, he’ll love that.”


“I know he’s worried that I’ll turn you, but if we can show him that we’re really serious about it and that we’d only do it with a guarantee that your soul would stay intact permanently, then I’m sure he’ll come around.  I just know it!”


“You really want this too?”


“Bloody hell, I’d cut off both legs if it meant I could spend eternity with you.  If we can do it, then…it really would be like forever Sunday.  We’ll have all the time in the world.”


Xander grinned. “That sounds like a song.”


Spike gathered Xander closer. “Actually, it reminds me of a poem.


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”


“Okay, firstly, it’s impressive that you can remember all that and secondly, did you mean to depress me?”


“Sorry, luv.  It’s just…that’s how I feel about you.  You *are* my everything and if I ever lost you…I don’t think I could carry on.  I wouldn’t want to.  Nothing would have meaning.”


Xander twisted in Spike’s arms and placed a gentle, almost chaste kiss onto his cool lips. “Love you. We’ll get our forever.  Somehow.”


“Love you too.  Together forever…Even if we have to ram a hot poker up Angel’s arse to do it.”


Xander smiled and picked up the book. “Let’s do this and go pack.”




“L.A.  A real forever is waiting.”



The End

Poem is Funeral Blues by W H Auden 

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