K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Imminent death was on the horizon. A big, scary monster with big, sharp teeth
was drooling on his shoes. Buffy was nowhere around.
And all Xander could think was: [I'm holding Spike's hand.]
The end of the movie had been great. Both he and Spike had forgotten the kiss
[yeah, right] and became immersed in the Movie For Guys Who Like Movies [soon to
be seen on TBS.] The car ride home had been filled with: "Did you
see...", "Wasn't it awesome when...", and "That movie kicked..."
"ROAR!" went the big, scary monster standing directly in front of
the two moviegoers.
"Um, pet," Spike whispered, his fingers tightening around Xander's hand.
"Would you think I'm less than manly if I ran away?"
"Only if you don't take me with you," Xander replied nervously. Which was
good, because his brain was still focused on the fact that he was holding
Spike's hand. [Slender fingers. Surprisingly smooth skin. Strong grip.]
He and Spike had been walking from the car to the basement door of the Harris
household, post-Gladiator, when Tall-and-Ugly had appeared. The very
large brownish demon had bared its rows of wicked-looking teeth [the better to
eat you with, my dear] and roared. Startled, Xander's hand had shot out and
latched onto Spike [like the Mommy-Arm in a car.] Instead of shaking him off,
Spike had curled his fingers around Xander's palm and was hanging on for dear
unlife.
"On three, we run," Xander said, all the while wondering if he could run and
hold Spike's hand at the same time.
"Three, right." Spike sounded scared. Xander had learned that it was bad when
a vampire was afraid. [I wonder if would Spike be afraid if he didn't have the
chip in his skull.] He'd have to ask later, when there wasn't a very large
monster about to eat them.
"ROAR!!"
"OnetwothreeRUN!" Xander yelped, already taking off at a dead sprint. He lost
hold of Spike [wah!] as the vampire put on the speed.
Behind him, Xander could hear thunderous running footsteps as the really,
really big demon came after them. Spike was yanking on the doors of the Bel Air
when Xander came around the corner of the garage. "Locked!" he yelled, latching
onto the blond as he raced by the car. It wouldn't have mattered if the doors
were open, either, because they wouldn't have been able to start the engine
before the demon was upon them.
The demon may have had longer legs, but fear could make the slowest tortoise
run like a hare. Across the street and through the neighbor's yard, they ran:
over the fence and through the weeds on a vacant lot; across another street [dog
poop, eew], splash through a kiddie pool, and they came upon a huge weeping
willow tree.
Xander ducked under the long, thin vine-like branches, stopped beside the
thick trunk, and cupped his hands in front of him. "Spike, up!" he said quickly.
Spike gave him a surprised look before sprinting the short distance between
them. He stuck his foot in Xander's hands and the brunette hoisted him upwards.
The momentum carried him to the lowest branch of the tree.
Xander spit on his hands, wiped them on his pants, bent his knees and jumped.
He caught the branch Spike was now standing on and swung himself up. Years of
climbing the willow tree [with Willow the person] made it easy. He balanced on
the balls of his feet, one hand holding the branch in front of him, and looked
at Spike. "Can you climb?"
Spike nodded and started doing just that. Xander followed close behind,
keeping one hand on the blond's backside like he used to do with Willow, making
sure Spike wouldn't fall. It wasn't until Spike reached the nook where a young
Xander and Willow had spent many a day hiding from Jesse that Xander
comprehended the fact his hand was on Spike's ass. [Squeezable ass. And I so did
not just think that.]
Xander quickly pulled his hand away and wondered how many shades of red his
face would be. He settled in the natural nook the tree made, where the trunk
split in several directions. "If Big Guy is a tree climbing demon, follow this
branch," Xander patted one of the branches. "It entwines with the willow tree
behind us, and we can escape that way."
Spike nodded again, not saying anything. The silence grew, broken only by the
sounds of the night; crickets chirped, racoons scavenged, opossums played dead.
No scary-looking demons roared, however, a cute blue-eyed blond one yawned
widely.
"On't oo at," Xander scolded through his own yawn. "Don't you know that yawns
are catchy?"
Spike half-shrugged, staring at his hands resting in his lap. Xander frowned,
reached out, and tapped the blond under the chin. "Hey, what's up?" he asked,
then grinned. "I mean, besides us."
No laugh from Spike, or even a 'you're pathetic' chuckle. Xander's frown
returned. "Spike?"
"Irnway," Spike mumbled.
"Huh?"
"Iranaway."
"One more time?"
"I ran away!" Spike snapped. He glared at Xander. "There, you happy? Spike,
the evil vampire, ran away like a bloody wuss."
"I ran, too," Xander pointed out, but Spike waved him off.
"You're a soddin' human. That was a Jlovean. If you didn't run, you'd have
been lunch," Spike said. He dropped his chin and stared at his hands again. "Me,
I used to purposely pick fights with 'em. 'Til this fucking chip..."
Xander was silent a moment. What could he say to that? [What else?] "I'm
sorry." The blond glanced at him with a raised brow. "Really," Xander continued.
"Not that I'm not glad you're not eating me, but it's wrong what those pricks
did to you." [What a nice little change of tune, Xander. Do you know any Dr.
Demento?]
Spike studied him for a very long moment, then gave him that tiny smile he'd
come to adore. Xander almost fell out of the tree. [Hello! Balance, Xandersan.
Just because Spike gave you that smile last night, then again after you kissed
him at the movie... I kissed Spike!]
Spike's hand shot out and caught Xander's as the brunette wobbled
precariously for a second. Xander's heart sounded like a tympani in his ears.
"Thanks," he breathed. "It's a long way down, and I'm easily bruisable."
"You owe me," Spike said ominously. "I want your silence about what happened
tonight."
[He wants me to not talk about the kiss? I don't think that'll be a problem.]
Xander nodded. "No sweat. My lips are, uh, [lips kissing soft nice] sealed."
"All right, then."
They fell into a semi-comfortable silence. A half-hour later, Xander realized
he was still holding Spike's hand.
And Spike was holding his in return.
With a faint smile, Xander examined the hand lightly clasped with his.
Spike's hand was slightly smaller and thinner but still definitely a man's hand,
even with the chipped polish on his nails. Still, the texture of his hand belied
the image of the human past Xander had created for the vampire. "What did you do
when you were human?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Spike asked warily in return. He started to pull away,
but Xander held fast.
"Just curious," Xander replied. "Your hands are smooth and scarless." He ran
his fingers over the back of Spike's left hand, then turned it over to lightly
caress the palm. "And you have no callouses, except for right here," he rubbed
his thumb against the side of Spike's middle finger, "indicating that you held a
pen a lot."
"Do you read tea leaves, too, Madame Harris?"
"No," Xander shook his head, his fingers still stroking Spike's hand. "I'm
just strangely fascinated by people's hands. Look at mine." He laid his other
hand on top of the blond's, palm up. "I have a ridge of callouses from gripping
stakes and other weapons. All these scars are from helping Buffy, or from
injuring myself at the many oh-so-exciting jobs I've held. And this complete
lack of pen-bump tells you how much I actually did in school."
Xander turned his hand over, effectively sandwiching Spike's left hand
between both palms. "Well, Mr. Vampire?" he prompted. "What did you do before
you became the beast you are today?"
An expression flashed across Spike's face, one of those that Xander was
familiar with, but thought he'd never see on another person, let alone Spike.
One that read: 'I'm twelve years old and got caught wearing Spiderman Underoos.'
[Which wasn't my fault! They were the only clean ones I had!]
Then Spike smirked, a completely self-depreciating one that Xander himself
wore fifty percent of the time. "William Barstow, Assistant Librarian, at your
service," the blond said in an accent that sounded nothing like his own. The
smirk grew more self-disparaging, and his accent returned to normal. "Actually,
Assistant Assistant Librarian. My head was in the bloody clouds too often to
receive a higher position. Too much time spent searching for afflatus, not
enough time spent archiving books."
"Funny, you don't read a lot," Xander commented. "I thought that was a
pre-requisite. Giles is a librarian, and his nose is always in a book."
One of Spike's shoulders lifted and he looked away. "Lost my reading glasses
over a century ago. Haven't bothered to pick up another pair."
"Maybe we'll fix that," Xander said softly, turning to look out between the
branches of the willow tree. A frown appeared between his brows. "What's
'afflatus?'"
"A poet's inspiration."
"You were a poet, too?"
"A bad one," Spike replied. "A very, very bad one."
Xander looked at him with excitement. "Do you know a rhyme for orange?"
"Door hinge."
The brunette's mouth fell open. He was completely and totally agog. Spike
chuckled and leaned over to push Xander's mouth closed, but the vampire
over-extended himself and began to lose his balance.
[Yikes!] In a move Xander doubted he could ever repeat, he grabbed Spike and
hoisted the blond across his lap, turning Spike so his feet were where he'd been
sitting and his bottom cradled between Xander's thighs. [I have Spike in my lap.
Hmm.] "Woah, careful there, Spike. Falling out of a tree made of wood isn't
something I'd recommend for you to do," he said. He snickered. "Hey, look, I'm a
poet, too."
Spike blinked owlishly, his face inches from Xander's, his mouth parted
slightly in surprise. Xander waited for the blond to get his royal vampire
feathers ruffled, or to laugh at him for his pathetic joke. He waited a bit
longer. And he waited a little more. [Okay, Spike, any time now.] But Spike did
nothing.
[Hmm, what to do. I have a Spike in my lap, with Spike lips within kissing
distance.] Xander's arm tightened around Spike's waist. [Well, heck, what else
is there to do?]
Airily, Xander's lips glided over Spike's in a gentle question. When the
blond didn't pull away, Xander returned for a sample of what was between those
soft, parted lips. Spike tasted like popcorn, sugar, and a bittersweet shyness
that Xander would never have associated with him.
Xander slowly broke the kiss, opened his eyes, and saw that tiny smile that
turned his insides to mush. [I am in so much trouble.] Spike opened his eyes
then, seemed to blush, and ducked his head. He shifted uncomfortably and his
hands fluttered in his lap.
"I think it's safe enough to go home now," Xander said quietly, not wanting
to increase the blond's adorable bashfulness. "Careful going down."
Xander let go, and waited patiently for Spike to start climbing down the
tree. Once the vampire was out of sight, the brunette dropped his head in his
hands and groaned softly. "What the hell am I doing?"
End
