Reunification: Part 2

*See part one for disclaimers et all*

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Part two

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Spike sneezed. Unusual for someone who didn’t have to breathe but a 

predictable reaction by his oversensitive sense of smell to the strong paint 

fumes. He realized when he and Xander had been drafted to help the witches 

move into the little two-bedroom over by campus that Xander’s nesting 

instinct would kick them both in the ass soon. Whether it had been more than 

a century devoted to observation of the prey or just three solid months of 

living with Xander, Spike had known his mate would want Dawn to have her own 

room with them as well. Xander was reluctant to leave their apartment 

complex though, since it was close to his work and the magic shop. After 

charming the apartment manager, Xander had arranged to move into another 

unit in the same building. He had opted for a three bedroom instead of a 

two, since the only two bedroom available had been on the ground floor. 

There had to be some sort of Hellmouthy logic to that reasoning, although 

for the life... er undeath of him, Spike couldn’t figure out what demon 

would be deterred by a flight of stairs. He had been meaning to ask Xander 

about that but kept having the thought driven from his head by unbridled, 

mindblowing sex. Ah, well, no one ever said unlife was easy.

The fumes were the primary reason Xander had arranged to paint the vacant 

apartment before they left on vacation. He planned to move everything from 

the old apartment to the new when they got home - thus giving the smell a 

chance to dissipate so that it wouldn't torment his sensitive lover. Spike 

turned around in the spacious living room/dining room area. It was all one 

space and Xander had chosen a vivid blue green from a tiny speck of color in 

the kitchen tiles and had covered all the walls in the main room with that 

shade, except a large rectangle of silver grey over the spot where the couch 

would be. Xander asked Spike to pick their bedroom color and Spike had 

surprised him, intentionally, by not picking black. Just to keep Xander 

guessing he had picked that same shade of silver gray for three of the walls 

and a dark red for the wall that the headboard of their bed would be 

against. Dawn had chosen the same silver gray for one wall of her bedroom 

and a dusty pink for the rest. Xander painted the third room a vivid yellow, 

adding another rectangle of Spike’s gray, as he called it. He said it would 

tie it all together and it might have but obviously, Spike thought, Xander 

had neglected to visualize all the blinding throws, pillows and other 

Xander-inspired clutter from their current place against this background. 

Xander intended to use the spare room as an office-cum-headquarters for 

managing his vigilante group. Spike chuckled to himself, Xander didn’t like 

it when Spike referred to the ‘Children’ as vigilantes any more than he 

liked the term minions.

A gentle breeze wafted the smell of the early evening through the open, 

uncovered windows. The smell and the fact that the walls couldn’t be painted 

with blackout curtains up had gotten Spike relieved of all the labor 

involved in the redecorating. The sound of the shower shutting off pulled 

Spike’s attention away from contemplating how much work Xander had done on 

the place. The paint was dry in all except the third bedroom and the trim 

gleamed wetly. Hooks were up in all the dry areas to hang their art and 

photos and Xander had built in a shelving unit to house the stereo and the 

telly. Xander emerged from the master bath, dark hair plastered about his 

neck. He wore loose grey draw-string pants and was absently stuffing his 

work clothes into a plastic sack. His attention to that detail was just one 

more way Xander unconsciously took care of his mate.

Spike had never been the focus of such cherishing. He had known Xander loved 

him. He knew Xander was a good person, and not just the `white 

knight/warrior of light' type of good but an intensely loyal and loving man. 

But it wasn’t until that night, the night the chip had been removed, the 

night Spike could once again kill and if he wished, seek vengeance, that he 

realized just how protective Xander was of him. Even after the witches had 

removed the chip, Xander’s first thought was seeing to it that the 

Initiative never got their hands on Spike again. Spike had started right 

then, watching Xander to see what else he had missed. He had missed quite a 

lot. Spike had written off the supply of fresh human blood; after all it 

kept him from dining on the populace. After closer observation Spike 

realized Xander had learn that he preferred O negative and blood that had 

been rejected for its alcohol content versus certain other medications and 

that was now the bulk of his supply. Also, whenever they were together 

during the day Xander managed to unobtrusively position himself between 

Spike and any source of natural light. Xander seemed to do the same with 

holy objects and any wooden weapons, as if he were willing to place his 

fragile mortal life between Spike and any danger.

It was some consolation to Spike that he had picked up on Xander’s shielding 

him before the rest of the Scoobies had. Of course, now that quirk was out 

of the bag to everyone. The other day in the shop Giles had acquired a 

particular cross, once purported to belong to a reputedly pious Slayer who 

had almost lived long enough to take her religious vows. The fool, Jonothan, 

had brandished it about after he opened its shipping crate and Spike had 

been blinded by its holy glow. None of the humans could see the pure white 

light of devout faith that had built up in the object during the years that 

a lonely young woman had treasured it. Spike had winced away, covering his 

watering eyes with his arm and mentally chanting ‘don’t fucking kill the 

moron’, in hopes of keeping in Xander’s good graces. Xander had hissed and 

jumped the counter. He was slamming the lid down on the crate before anyone 

realized he had pulled the cross from Jonothan’s stunned grip. When it was 

Xander who growled ‘keep that thing covered’ and pulled Spike into the back 

to bathe his reddened eyes. The rest of the Scoobies’ shocked silence had 

lasted almost as long as Xander’s fussing over his wounded lover had. 

Spike’s head had still been cradled in Xander’s lap when the little blonde 

witch had come back and heated a cup of blood from the fridge and extended 

Jonothan’s apologies.

“Remind me to come down and shut the windows before we leave,” Xander said 

as he crossed the room and kissed Spike.

Spike grabbed him as he made to pull away and growled playfully into 

Xander’s neck. Xander giggled and squirmed and they both ended up in a heap 

on the floor.  “Have you where I want you now,” Spike leered.

“You can have me anywhere,” Xander laughed. “But you’d enjoy it more if we 

got out of the smelly place.” Xander punctuated his suggestion by biting 

Spike’s ear lobe hard enough to draw blood. Spike purred as Xander licked 

the blood off his ear, then scooped the young man up off the floor and 

started carrying him toward the door. “Whoa, Cassanova! Unless you want to 

see my dinner do its impression of a Monet, you gotta let me walk.”

Spike laughed and pinned Xander to the door - the only safe place to pin him 

since Spike was sure the door hadn’t been painted. After a long probing kiss 

that left Xander breathless Spike shifted to his game face and said, “Not 

walk, Pet - run.” He gave Xander just enough space to open the door and took 

a step back into a fighting stance.

Xander eyes darted about, gauging the distance and Spike and probably a 

hundred things Spike would never think of, then he shot Spike a hungry smile 

and bolted out the door.

Xander’s reflexes were noticeably faster and not all of it had to do with 

their bond. Spike had insisted that Xander start training with him. Xander 

made time in each of his busy days to work out with Spike. Their sparring 

matches weren’t always in the practice room; they had played this chase game 

in cemeteries and tunnels all over Sunnydale. Spike had been touched when 

Xander gave him the Kevlar vest to go with his suit which mimicked body heat 

but had balked when his mate insisted he wear the vest on patrols. He was 

the Big Bad and had been kicking Slayer ass for over a century. Thankfully, 

Xander had refrained from saying ‘I told you so’ when it had stopped the 

crossbow bolt that an overprotective minion had fired the first time one of 

Xander’s precious ‘Children’ had caught the vampire ravishing their beloved 

General.

Spike heard the heavy security door at the end of the hall slam. That would 

put him out on the side of the building near the park. The park had privacy 

to play and Xander wouldn’t be running far barefoot. Spike waited another 

count of ten before leaving the apartment, then started toward the fire 

exit. He ran out into the night scenting the air, but the lingering paint 

fumes made him unsure if he were smelling it on the wind from Xander’s 

passing or if it were just traces on him from the apartment. He circled the 

park, nodding to one of the patrols and clearing his head of the smell of 

paint. Cutting through the playground he was disgusted to realize that 

Xander, nearly naked and completely unprepared, had managed to lose him. He 

was worried. Even with the minions patrolling Sunnydale was still dangerous. 

The idea that Xander was outside, weaponless, and hiding caused him a moment 

of panic. As he came to the entrance of the park again he glanced over to 

their building to see if he had missed any signs at the exit. The light in 

their bedroom window caught Spike’s attention. He knew he had turned the 

light out before going to find Xander.

Spike ran up the stairs, too impatient for the elevator. The little shit, he 

thought. He doubled back on me! He cursed himself for not realizing that 

Xander of all people would not run around Sunnydale after dark, shoeless and 

weaponless. Xander must have slammed the fire door and then taken the 

elevator to their floor. Spike slipped into their apartment, expecting to 

find a smug human in front of the telly. Instead he found the plastic bag 

Xander hadn't dropped thoughout their roughhousing was tossed in the corner 

nearest the door and the pants Xander had worn were laying a little farther 

along. Dim flickering light spilled out of the door of their bedroom. Spike 

prowled around the corner. In the center of the bed, Xander lay naked. 

Languid amid the pillows, the soft light of a multitude of unscented candles 

caressed his body and he smiled seductively at Spike while holding out a 

hand invitingly.

Spike began to slowly stalk toward Xander as he removed his shirt. He 

circled around to his side of the bed and Xander pouted at him when he 

didn’t immediately pounce. Spike snickered. He tossed the lube off the 

nightstand and it landed next to Xander. As he removed his boots, Spike 

nodded at the lube and leered at Xander. Taking the hint, Xander opened it 

and squeezed some into his hand. He looked up, wide-eyed, and then smiled as 

he realized how intently Spike was watching him. Spike kicked his boots 

under the bed and sat on the edge still wearing his jeans. Xander blushed as 

Spike made no move toward him, just watched. Spike nodded his encouragement 

and grinned as Xander ducked his head and then looked up with a guilty grin 

before slowly trailing the slick fingers down along his body. He wiggled 

some and spread his legs, lifting his hips for better access. He began by 

just trailing his finger back and forth across the puckered opening. Spike 

watched as Xander’s cock twitched and a flush spread down his body. The 

pupils of his dark eyes opened fully and Spike thought he just might fall 

into them.

“Wicked, Pet.” Spike purred. “What would you have done if I had stayed out 

looking for you?”

Xander moaned softly as he slipped a finger inside himself. 

“You’re...you’re,” he panted softly, “too smart. Knew you’d figure it out... 

Please.”

Spike laid down on his side and propped his head on his hand. With his other 

hand, he traced idle patterns in the slippery traces that lingered on 

Xander’s abdomen. Spike smirked as his mate increased the rhythm of the 

finger which loosened his ring of muscles. A second finger joined it and 

Spike let his hand come closer and closer to Xander’s straining erection. 

Xander whimpered and started to reach his free hand toward the aching flesh. 

“Now, now,” Spike whispered, leaning close to Xander’s ear, “that’ll never 

do.” Spike sat up. He held  the hand Xander wasn’t using to prepare himself 

with down against mattress. He used his other to stroke Xander’s cock with a 

feather-soft caress from base to tip. Xander groaned his frustration at the 

lack of friction and bucked his hips up into the touch. Spike kept up the 

unsatisfying contact, delighting in the way Xander began to piston his 

fingers in and out of his ass. A third finger was added as Xander bit 

through his own lip, blood trickling down his chin. Spike leaned forward and 

licked it off and continued to trace kitten-like licks up Xander’s face to 

lap up the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

“Damn it,” Xander growled. “Fuck me.”

Spike stopped his soft caresses of Xander’s leaking erection. He chuckled 

low in his throat and leered. “Not yet, Love.”

He leaned down as if to suck Xander’s cock and then looked up into those 

wide pleading eyes and grinned. Xander screamed his frustration when Spike 

blew across the moist head. Xander’s hand faltered in its pumping and he 

came without any contact, his come coating his stomach and chest as Spike 

leaned back and laughed.

Before his mate’s devious mind could plot retaliation, Spike grabbed hold of 

Xander’s knees and pulled them up and apart. Xander gave what Spike was sure 

he would deny was a girly squeak as he was lifted ass over head. Spike 

quickly unbuttoned his jeans and gave up trying to remove them once they 

were at mid-thigh. He slid into Xander in one smooth stroke. His balls 

smacked satisfyingly against Xander’s ass. Leaning over his pretzel-like 

lover, Spike hissed, “Now. Now, I fuck you.”

Spike set up a speed-metal rhythm and was pleased to see Xander’s revived 

erection brushing the human’s stomach minutes later. He lost track of time 

but was aware that the phone had rung twice in the space of their coupling. 

Just as Xander’s muscles contracted again in orgasm, Spike sank his fangs 

into the fading scar of his mate’s mark and came. He collapsed on top of the 

boneless human. Xander murmured, “Mmmm, sticky,” before dropping into a 

light doze.

~~~~~~~~~

Spike played back the messages while his blood heated. Dawn had called. She 

had been planning to stay with Stephanie and ride to LA with the rest of her 

friends on Saturday. But her message said she would be coming to LA with 

them Thursday night. Dawn had been wary of them all staying with Angel now 

that reports had Riley and his commando friend living in the hotel with him. 

Xander had had Cordelia call her and talk about the ex-Initiative members 

and reassure her that no one would be coming after Spike. The second message 

was from Jonothan; apparently a patrol had called in something suspicious 

and were going to check it out. Spike took his mug and went to wake his 

mate.

Xander and Spike showered quickly and were both dressed and heading to the 

sewage treatment plant within thirty minutes. They arrived on the scene just 

as four of the minions had cornered a scrawny Ayin demon. They were 

scavengers and lived mostly on exotic molds, so unless this one had 

ambitions of world domination Spike couldn’t see what the fuss was about. 

The vampire growled when one of the minions swung a Supersoaker of holy 

water to bear on him. Xander stepped in front of him and barked, “Stand 

down,” at the boy.

“Holy water doesn’t work on Ayins,” Spike said. He usually didn’t give 

pointers to the humans but knew they were impressed by his extensive 

knowledge of what was what and how to kill it.

“What does?” Asked a heavy girl in dark, layered clothing and too much 

makeup.

“What did it do?” Xander interrupted.

“Huh?” The boy with the gun pointed it at the floor now that he knew it 

wouldn’t hurt his prey.

“What. Did. It. Do.” Xander circled the group and stepped closer to the 

demon. Still out of reach he looked questioningly at Spike.

“Don’t worry, Pet, no fangs. Those claws are for scraping food - slimes and 

molds - off of ....well just about everything. It doesn’t have stingers or 

venom or emit poison gas or, well... anything, much.”

“Their good guys?” a tall redheaded male minion asked, lowering a crossbow.

“Well, not good like collecting money for widows and orphans, more just 

disinterested in humans except for your garbage and waste,” Spike snarked.

The minion ‘ewwed’ appropriately and Xander stepped closer to the little 

Ayin. The thing was shaking and had apparently lost control of certain 

bodily functions in its fear as a pungent aroma of sulfur filled the air. 

Xander squatted in an attempt to look less threatening. “Shh, you’re okay, 

shh, no one’s going to hurt you.”

Spike growled out a stream of incomprehensible guttural syllables and then 

said, “Pet, we are not adopting that thing. It’s an adult and they smell.”

The demon raised large cloudy blue eyes and spit out a string of similar 

gibberish.

“What’d he say?” Xander asked

There were several more of the incomprehensible exchanges, then Spike said. 

“He thinks you’re gonna eat him.”

“Why?” Xander asked over the chorus of ‘ewws’ from the minions.

“S’not that bright. That was what they figured the Initiative was doing. The 

nightbreed, they know you lot run the Hellmouth, but they don’t see much 

different between you and the Initiative.” Spike said.

“But... we’re not like them,” the girl said.

“You had it cornered for the kill, right?” Spike asked.

The girl nodded reluctantly and Xander said, “What made you target it? Did 

it kill someone?” As the minions shook their head Xander added, “Hurt 

someone?” They shook their heads again and looked away from Xander. “You 

think we should let him go?” Xander asked Spike.

“Dunno, Pet. Some big bad could use one of their lot to run errands I guess. 

They got some human in their bloodline... like the rest of you, they're just 

as capable of doing harm.” Spike smiled at how uncomfortable the minions 

were looking.

“He... he wasn’t doing anything... other than being a demon,” the girl said.

Spike was surprised by the humans’ reactions. Before he had met up with the 

Initiative and basically began living with food, he would have seen their 

visible relief at not having to kill the Ayin as a weakness. Now, as Xander 

told them to keep erring on the side of caution, but to call if they had the 

luxury to be unsure, he realized how that weakness served them. Their 

willingness to let Xander make life and death decisions wasn’t compelled or 

enforced by fear, as it would have been with vampires. They simple assumed 

Xander knew best - whether it was his experience with all matters unnatural 

or the air he projected that no matter how strange things got it was just 

another night on the Hellmouth was unclear, but Spike would continue his 

observation of his favorite subject. Xander, unlike a master vampire, didn’t 

play his minions against each other or make them feel questioning their own 

actions would reduce them in his eyes. He used their uncertainties as he 

used their abilities and was stronger for it.

Xander stood and dismissed his minions. Spike spat out a string of the 

ratlike demon’s native language, punctuated with a demonic trade tongue and 

told them that Hellmouth’s ruler was sparing his life but to spread the word 

that the humans were watching. The night was still young when they headed 

over to the magic shop.