Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Characters: Not mine, Joss' - I'm just playin' with 'em
Concrits: welcome in comments
Betaed by: and major thanks to iadorespike for betaing and encouraging me to continue; and thanks to nashmaveric for nagging and threatening all sorts of dire things if I didn’t get her the next chapter fast and thanks to lunabee34 for the encouragement and brainstorming.

Summary: Xander finds he’s touched by magic. His powers lead to hilarity and angst in equal parts.

Note: In order not to spoil on any fics, I am using a cut to say “yes” or “no” on whether there is character death. This way, those who want to know ahead can find out, and those who don’t, won’t have to

Touched

by
Virtual Personal

Part One

Click Here To Find Out Whether There is Character Death

Spike was innocently watching the telly when his phone rang. Bloody hell. It had to be the Slayer. Only Buffy telephoned him at this time of the night. Make that... only Buffy telephoned him, period.

He put the phone to his ear. “Why don’t you ever call during the adverts?”

“Uh... don’t watch hokey soaps? Spike, need your help with something.”

Spike gave a resigned sighed and shut the television off. What else was new. “Where do you want to meet and whose arse are we kicking?”

“Well... it’s more a scooby retrieval mission.”

“A what? Cryptic doesn’t become you. Spit it out, yeah?”

“It’s Xander. Need you to bring him home.”

“I think he made it pretty clear that he went off to find himself.” A few weeks had passed since the day the boy dropped the bomb that he was gay and the only person who’d looked shell shocked was Xander himself. All his friends had taken it in stride. Spike didn’t know what the big deal was. Sure he made a few good poofter jokes, but so what, he didn’t mean anything by them.

“Yeah I know. And he found himself alright. I mean he found more of himself than he thought. So... needs help getting home.” Buffy paused. “He’s outside of Dallas.”

“Did he forget the way home?” Spike barely noticed she didn’t answer. “I’m not playing baby sitter, and think about it, if you’d just ‘come out,’ would you really want to spend a few days with me? No you wouldn’t. Look, why don’t you send someone else?”

Buffy glanced over at Giles who was holding an ice pack to his forehead, and resting his casted leg on the coffee table. “Tried that. Didn’t work so good. We need someone unbreakable to go, and I can’t do it right now, so it’s you.”

“What do you mean unbreak... ah... Slayer? Hello?” All he got out of her was an address and a ‘good luck.’ This couldn’t be good.

Days later, Spike pulled into the motel’s parking lot. He’d wanted to take a plane, get here, grab the boy, and get back. But no. For reasons Buffy hadn’t explained, she’d insisted he take the car. Actually, she hadn’t been around to explain, but Dawn had arrived shortly after his phone call with the Slayer. She’d given him the keys and message and though he’d done his best to brow beat her into giving him more information, all she’d known was that Giles hadn’t succeeded in getting Xander back, and had needed medical attention. That made him wonder if Xander had shacked up with yet another demon...

Except for the flashing red light that screamed “Bronco Motel,” the place looked dark, quiet, and down-market. The boy probably didn’t have the cash to find a better place. The two story, L shaped building, looked like a hundred other motels he’d seen along the route. He wouldn’t be surprised if they rented the rooms out by the hour.

Slamming the car door shut behind him, he lit up, took a long drag, then strode to Xander’s room. Pounding on the door didn’t get him anywhere. He stilled and listened. His senses told him the room was empty. Why was nothing simple anymore?

The relative quiet of the night was broken for a moment, and he turned his head to see a bar across the street. The sound of country music drifted out as someone left the place, then the door closed, muting it again. What were the chances?

Minutes later, he’d crossed the street and was pushing the door open. The bleached blond, leather-clad, all-city vampire drew looks from the patrons. A lot of them. Some stared coolly ... as if to say he didn’t belong, others just gaped, and then there were the interested ones that followed him around. But he was on a mission. Find Xander, and then get the bloody hell away from the whining tones of country music.

Was that...? It was. Xander, sitting at the corner of the bar, beer bottle in hand, ten gallon hat on top of his head and ... he wasn’t bloody well wearing... Spike’s eyes widened when the boy turned on the stool to reveal he really was wearing them... or something like them. Jeans with fake leather chaps, that’s what they were. If he liked Texas this much, getting him to leave was going to be tougher than Spike had imagined. There would be much screaming and yelling and tying-up.

Spike vaguely noticed a big portly cowboy helped another cowboy onto a mechanical bull. Xander, on the other hand, seemed to be paying such close attention to the rider that he jumped when Spike clapped him on shoulder. “You’re looking ...” his light blue gaze sparkling with amusement as it traveled up and down Xander’s strange outfit, “...rather gay.”

“Fuck off Spike, you don’t want to do this, you really don’t.” He took a swig of his drink. “Giles couldn’t help, and you can only make things worse.

“Offered you tweed, did he? Might have been a better choice.”

“Huh?” Xander looked down at his clothed, and flushed a little. “I just wondered what I’d look like and then poof...”

“You mean poofter. That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“Argh... you SO wouldn’t understand.” He gritted his teeth. “Look... just beat it... go. Before something happens.”


“Something... like what?” Spike settled down and made himself comfortable on the barstool next to the apparently newly melodramatic gay-Xander. He hated guys who just came out of the closet. It was inevitable, they had to try to fit into the stereotype until they either tired of it or found themselves. How long would Xander’s loud phase last?

“Something that could end up getting you hurt. Didn’t they tell you?” Xander looked moodily at the vampire.

“They were too bloody busy to tell good old Spike anything. So Harris, why don’t you be a good boy and tell me?”

The stool unexpectedly shook under Spike’s ass. He frowned and looked over to where a line dance was forming. They weren’t stomping that hard. It wobbled around under his ass again, causing him to grip the bar top to steady himself.

“I’m a .....”

“What? Speak up, boy.” Spike raised his brow. “Can’t be any worse than your last announcement, yeah?” There went his stood again. “Bloody hell!” He stood up, and looked down at it. “What were you saying?”

“I said I’m a –“

Big Johnny, the portly cowboy and part owner of the bar came over to Xander. “Slim’s been on it for four and a half minutes. He told me that if he wasn’t pitched by this time, to tell you to get ready to fork over his money. How much did you bet him this time?”

“More than I have...”

“Then take it outside, I don’t want nuthing broke in here.”

The minute big Johnny walked away, Spike leaned close again. “You’re a what...”

“Oh man... he’s gonna win...”

“Harris, I’m going to beat you to a pulp if you don’t... what the–“

The mechanical bull went wild. It swung and bucked and twisted into configurations it wasn’t built for... until Slim was tossed clear to the other side of the room and slammed into the wall.

“Oh shit!” Xander winced. “My fault...oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck... I hope he’s okay....”

“You won. Good on you. Now...” Spike gripped Xander’s collar and pulled him close. “Pay attention, yeah... what were you trying to tell me?”

Xander swallowed. Up close and personal, he could smell leather, smoke and whatever it was that gave Spike his unique scent. His head started to swim with thoughts, and that was bad.

Spike snapped his fingers. “Harris? Are you listening?”

“What? Uh...oh...yeah, listening.” Fuck... please don’t let it happen now. Xander swallowed again. “I’m a warlock.”

“No you’re not...”

“Yes... yes I am. That’s why Slim owes me money now and... you’re looking at me like you don’t believe me. I wish it weren’t true...”

Laughing, Spike let him go and sat back down. “Bollocks. You’ll have to try harder to get me with your silly jokes.”

“It’s not a joke. Giles got hurt. And ... and when I took the bus trying to get home, it got into an accident, I burned down the last motel I was in and...”

“If you’re a warlock, you’re not a very good one, are you?”

Xander gritted his teeth at the jeering tone. “No...no Spike, I’m not a very good one.”

At that exact moment, all four legs of the metal stool broke off, landing Spike on the ground. This time, there had been no warning shake. Cursing loudly, he got up, then struck a pose against the bar, looking for all the world as if he hadn’t drawn teetering laughs seconds ago. “Right... then you are good.”

“No, no, no... I’m not.” Xander brushed the hair out of his eyes. “That’s just it, I didn’t mean to do it. I have no control.”

“Well my arse says otherwise.” Spike motioned the bar tender for a beer, and took a swig. “Go on.”

Did he really have to mention his ass? Xander watched in open-mouthed disbelief as Spike rubbed his ass as if to make a point. This wasn’t good. This was SO not good. No thinking about Spike’s ass, or body or... anything.

“Right... the story. Come on Harris, I drove a long way.”

“Just go home,” Xander looked down. He had no desire to go through the entire embarrassing story again. Especially with Spike. Especially when he was noticing Spike in ways he probably shouldn’t. As if that hadn’t been one of the main reason’s he’d left Sunnydale...

“Buffy wants me to get you home, and that’s what I’m going to do. Whether you tell your story or not. I’m thinking you’d best tell me.” There was a long silence, punctuated by the whoops and other sounds made by the dancers. And that infernal twangy country music which made Spike want to strangle someone. And if Xander didn’t spit out his story, the boy’s neck might make a good place to start.

Xander felt the warmth of a flush creep up his cheeks and neck. “After the first time I... you know... with a guy...”

“Wrestled?”

“No,” Xander looked up and saw the twinkle in the blue eyes staring at him. “Stop playing with me Spike, it’s dangerous. And stop looking at me like you don’t believe me.”

“Get on with the story.” Who did the little pup think he was scaring?

“Anyway... afterwards, it was like some floodgates opened. Suddenly, magic happening all over the place. I mean... I have a thought, and sometimes what I’m thinking just happens.”

“That’s a handy trick.”

“Yeah....no. I imagine it, and it happens...even if I don’t want it to, or... sometimes it happens backwards and.... well I think of a lot of things, not seriously think, but like ‘what ifs’ and... Not good when they happen and I ... you know...”

“Now you’re scaring me. With your ability not to make any sense.”

“Jumbled thoughts, jumbled things happening, that’s the problem,” he answered seriously. “Giles did some research. It turns out I’m a Jagard warlock. Must be in the genes somewhere,” he shrugged. “So... usually, Jagard warlocks get their powers when they go into puberty. Hey, I didn’t think I’d ever use that word again. Looks like Health class came in handy.”

“Harris, stop wandering off topic.”

“Oh... yeah...so. It missed me at that age, and now that I’m... coming of age in a different way, bam! And it looks like I’ll gain control over it eventually, sort of how you gain control over your body when you’re a teen.”

“Well that’s good.” Spike raised a brow at the way Xander shook his head. “No?”

“I had wet dreams until I was...” He whispered his age.

“That’s only a few years ago! You were...”

“Yeah,” Xander cringed. “Hope I get control faster this time.”

“So what happened to Giles?”

“He was... beat up.” Xander bit his lip and hoped against hope that Spike would stop that line of questioning.

“You hit him?”

“Uh... no... it was Little Johnny.”

Spike narrowed his gaze toward the portly cowboy. “What happened? I thought it was you that injured him.”

“Well yes, and no. I mean, I did wonder...” Xander put his thumb against his index finger and held it up, “...only for the teensiest, itsiest, weeniest, nano-second known to man, what it would be like if Giles bent over Little Johnny and then–“

“Bloody hell,” Spike shuddered. “I feel unclean now. Why did you want that to happen?!?”

“Oh I didn’t? I just wondered and then...poof...”

“Poof is right.” Spike chuckled. “You didn’t get a photo, did you...”

“It’s not funny. He broke Giles’ leg, and hit his head.”

“Well then, that’s why they sent me. I don’t break,” he gave a smug smile, leaned across Xander to reach the bowl of pretzels and added. “Don’t worry Harris, I’ll get you home.”

Spike’s scent assaulted Xander’s senses again. He swallowed hard, and tried... tried his best not to imagine Spike with that leather duster and nothing else on under.

One minute he was sitting relaxed and feeling very confident, the next, Spike jerked up, eyes wide with disbelief. He looked down and saw a pair of pale legs visible under his leather coat. His legs! Not only was he completely free of his leather pants and underwear, the bare skin of his chest was pressing against the leather duster. “You’re not... you’d bloody well better not be...”

“I’m ... uh...” Mortified, Xander tried, he tried hard not to think of Spike. Spike who he’d always secretly admired. How he’d thought it was because he wished that in some ways he were like the vampire. Only now, he knew it wasn’t that he’d wanted to be Spike, it was because he wanted to actually kiss him and touch him and... no no...not going there...

A ripping sound alerted Spike. He looked at his shoulder and saw string unraveling at the seams of his leather duster. “Stop it... Xander... Harris...” his voice held a warning tone, which turned panicked when the sides of the duster started to disintegrate.

“Oh my God... oh my.... Spike I...” Long ago, Xander had seen the vampire’s body hidden under a thin sheet. That had been the beginning of the end of his sham existence, as he’d been able to think of nothing but how the vampire would have looked without the sheet. But now wasn’t the time... definitely not the time. Desperately, he tried not to think of Spike’s body.

“You’re dead!” Spike turned tail and ran out of the bar as his leather coat fell to the ground in shreds. He’d never forget the laughter and the gasps. Ever.

“Oh... shit!” Xander felt like the air had been sucked out of him as he slouched onto the bar.

Part Two

Click Here To Find Out Whether There is Character Death

Xander had given himself time to lose the thoughts and images playing in his mind, before he followed Spike out and headed for the parking lot in front of his motel. He could see the vampire had some new pants on, and that he was dragging a shirt out of the trunk of his car. Moonlight and shadows highlighted the narrowness of Spike’s waist and revealed alabaster skin stretched taut over muscle.

Heat burned Xander’s cheeks. Maybe he should just run away. He didn’t want to meet those accusing eyes. Or eyes that would make fun of him. Worse. Maybe Spike would think he was a perv. And he was.

“I know you’re there,” the vampire drawled without turning around, as he shrugged his tee-shirt on. “Try not to enjoy the view, yeah.”

Shit! Double shit! He couldn’t tell what mood Spike was in. Mad? Jeering? Teasing? Did he not get that any of those weren’t a good idea? “Don’t know what to say. I wasn’t trying to get you naked, I really wasn’t... I mean especially in front of all those people–“ he snapped his mouth shut as the vampire’s face swung toward him. Dumb idea reminding him of the audience...

Spike stalked toward him, stopping in front of his face. “You don’t scare me Harris, so don’t flatter yourself. I’m getting you home no matter how many tricks you pull. And then you can explain to Buffy why it is you belong here in... Texas.” He snatched the keys out of Xander’s hand and headed for the motel room. “Fetch the bag. You owe me that much.”

When the vampire didn’t fall flat on his ass, the car didn’t start up and try to run him over, and the motel appeared to remain standing, Xander let out the breath he’d been holding. If only nothing else would happen.

Black duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he followed Spike inside. It was late. Closer to the morning than he’d thought.

An hour passed. Mostly with him trying to engage Spike in conversation, but the vampire merely grunted an answer or two, preferring to watch television sprawled on the bed. When he stood up in a liquid movement, pulled off his shirt and tossed it on a chair, Xander blinked in surprise. “Wha... what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The sound of a zipper cut the air. “What?”

The blood rushed to Xander’s groin. He swallowed hard, staring at the object of his desire. The guy just did not get it.

“You already saw me with less and I’m not sleeping in my jeans.” Without looking at the boy, Spike slipped inside the double bed. Eyes closed, he snapped. “Turn off the bloodly lights and telly.”

Xander instantly obeyed, which was a bad thing. Now the t.v. was off, and all he had to look at was Spike’s dark silhouette... in his bed...the way he’d imagined so many times. Laying stiff as a board on the far edge of the bed, Xander’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Any other night, he’d just reach inside his sweat pants and squeeze himself while images of Spike crowding him, pushing him down against the mattress, taking him fast and furious against the wall or on the floor, raged inside his head. But now he was hard and heavy, and there was no relief in sight.

Every little move Spike made in his sleep had Xander burning hotter, growing harder. Everything he focused on was dangerous. Spike’s hand... long smooth fingers. He’d bet they’d feel good on his body, or wrapped around his shaft. He sucked in a breath. No. He had to stop thinking like this... stop imagining Spike making him beg to get fucked. Clenching and unclenching his fist around the corner of his pillow, unable to look away from temptation, he prayed for sleep.

Everything in the room rattled and shook. Spike’s eyes flew open. Did they have earthquakes in Texas? Before he could finish that line of thought, he was lifted clear off the bed, rolled over in mid-air and landed on top of Xander. “What the–“

“Mmm, let’s do it again, Spike...” Xander murmured, sleepily opening his eyes.

“What?!?” Spike’s question was crisp. Sharp. Like the crack of a whip.

“What?!?” Now wide awake, the horror of what was happening hit Xander. “Spike...”

Frowning, Spike tried to get off the boy. The frown grew deeper, as he braced against the sinking mattress and tried harder, only managing to bring their bodies in closer contact as he cursed loudly. “You’re like bloody fly paper.”

“I’m sorry,” Xander slightly panted, fighting the urge to lift his pelvis up to emulate the way Spike had picked him up and drawn him close in the dream. “Oh God...” There was no hiding his hard-on pressed against Spike’s hip. “Oh God...” now he felt Spike pressing into his hip. Heat surged through him.

“Get off me you bloody git... er... let me get off... “ Spike stopped struggling. “Xander. Xander, look at me. Stop it, whatever you’re doing... whatever you’re imagining...”

“I’m imagining you...”

Spike felt his pelvis get slammed into Xander. “I get the picture... now stop imagining that.”

Xander’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t... I can’t...”

“Well I’m not bloody shagging you on command. What happens next?” Spike demanded.

“We wait... things get better. We get stuck for a while and then.... it goes away...”

“You moved your leg.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Okay, I did. But you moved against me... I can’t help... oh God...uh oh...”

“Uh oh, what?” The thin material of the boxer shorts Spike had on disappeared. “Oh.”

All Xander wanted was for his sweats to disappear. For this serious Spike to turn into the Spike from his dreams. Hot. Needing him. Demanding. Hungry. Aggressive. He closed his eyes. “Talk to me. Keep my mind off it.”

“How long will it last?”

“I don’t know... different every time.”

“You and Giles?”

“Ewww no.... although...”

“Although?” It was bloody odd to be having a conversation like this, with his nose pressed close to Xander’s cheek and his body positioned as if he was going to ride the boy. “Don’t tell me he was glued here first. Why am I always second...”

“You actually complaining?”

“No.”

“Okay... he was glued, but not like this.”

“Right then, tell me about it.”

It was difficult to talk. To explain what happened when the watcher came for him, when all Xander could think of was how good Spike felt on top of him. How much better it would feel if he just rubbed .... but no... that was off limits. “Okay...” he hissed, letting out a determined breath. “We’d traveled about sixty miles...”

“Oh that’s not bad...”

“In three days, because things kept happening. I’d see a town and wonder what it was like, and bam... the tires would go out. All four of them. Or the radiator would overheat... or...

“Xander do you think it’s wise for you to go out?”

Xander gave a loud sigh, looking at all the books the Watcher had spread around the motel room. “Yeah Giles, I need to go out. Unlike you, I can’t keep spending day after day with my nose pressed between–“

Howling sounds from Giles cut Xander off as he turned to see an album sized book slammed shut around Gile’s nose. “Oh my God... oh my God Giles, are you okay?” he started to tug at the book, but stopped when the howling got louder. “Shit...”

Xander looked up at the ceiling and waved his hand around. “Ala cazam! Abra cadabra! What was done, will be undone!” this time he stamped his foot.

“Nya mmmhmhmmm”

“I know it didn’t work. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work.” Xander helplessly dropped into a chair and watched Giles do the same while supporting the book with his hands. Sat across from him for hours on end until the spell wore off and the book finally dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Good lord, I’m bleeding,” Giled dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it to his nose. “It might be good if you said as little as possible over the next few days until we get you home. Then we can look into whether there are ways to speed up the process of your coming into your powers.”

“I’m sorry Giles...” hanging his head, but unable to look at the watcher for an instant more, Xander left to get that drink and a bit of much needed entertainment to make him forget a long string of blush-worthy moments.

If he’d hoped to avoid the watcher until the next morning, his hopes were dashed. Around midnight, he’d had to phone Giles to come get him. He’d wished for a wallet full of money to be able to tip the entertainment... and ended up with the reverse. Now he had no money to pay for his drinks. Could things get any more embarrassing?

Giles tiredly walked into The Stag fully expecting the blare of music, the despicable fog of smoke, sweating bodies and too much drink. What he hadn’t expected were the half naked costumed men gyrating on the stage. It was a bloody strip bar... Xander hadn’t meant it was “on the strip...” Taking a second look at the all male audience, Giles suddenly felt like a hunted animal. And well he should, the wolfish looks scared him more than a vampire ever had.

Cautious not to touch anyone or draw any more attention than absolutely necessary, he threaded his way through the tables and found Xander. “What’s the damage?”

Xander dragged his gaze away from the ‘policeman’ who’d just torn his pants off and was sporting a large sheriff’s badge where it counted. Embarrassed by Giles’ presence, he whispered the amount, then added a bit defensively, “it’s artistic... not easy doing that, you know.”

Counting the bills out quickly, Giles dropped them on the table and tried hard not to look at the stage. “I’m sure calling it an art is a bit of an overstatement. Now... are you ready to leave?”

“You saying it’s easy? They have to practice,” Xander started following the older man. “You think you could do it?”

“Good Lord, I wouldn’t be caught dead–“

Beams of light shone into Giles’ eyes. He raised his hand up, trying to shade his eyes and see. But what he saw gave him a start. He was on the wrong side of the stage. On it, to be exact. Looking down, his jaw dropped open. Gone were his gray flannels with perfectly starched creases, replaced by brown suede chaps... and nothing else. Not only did he feel the cold air caress his legs and backside, but he suddenly noticed a slight discomfort between his cheeks. Flossy underwear... that’s what he had on.

The blood shot up to his temples. Panicked, he took a step to leave the stage, but his body was uncooperative. That step lead to another, then another. Each move was a slinky slide to the side, followed by the involuntary rotating motions of his hips, which resulted in screams from the audience. Whether they were shouting for more, or for him to get off the stage was unclear.

Xander. He tried to fix the youth with a quelling look, but Xander was looking everywhere but at him.

A part of Giles died as he lost his strenuous battle against his body and slowly turned his backside to the audience. Eyes closed, he allowed his body to move in ways he hadn’t thought possible, for there was nothing he could do. When the music stopped, so did the enchantment his body was under.

Practically jumping off the stage, he beat away the sweaty hands that offered to tuck disgusting bills into his waist and God knew where else. He was out the front door at the same time as Xander. “A mere half hour ago, I was in my jammy’s, ensconced in bed, with a good book,” he said in a too controlled voice.

“I...ah...sorry.” Lame lame lame. That was what he was stuck saying every other hour. He was surprised Giles hadn’t ditched him yet. He should. If he knew what was good for him.

“Yes well... we’re never speaking of this again.” The slapping of the leather chaps against his skin had Giles clenching his jaw. The thought of walking past reception and giving them a glimpse of his backside was already giving him a strong case of heartburn.

Xander couldn’t help looking over his shoulder. “For an old man... gotta say, not a bad ass.”

“Not that you’ve noticed.” If there was a slight spring in Giles’ step, it wasn’t intentional.

“Nope... not that I’d notice.”

“You’re not telling anyone.”

“Nope... not a soul.”

“You’re bloody kidding me. And Rupert stayed after that?” The watcher earned some new found respect from Spike, who’d completely forgotten his own predicament. “Can’t wait to ask him about it.”

“You promised not to tell!” Xander protested.

“Under duress.”

“What duress.”

“Got me glued ... that’s imprisonment.” Moving his leg, Spike discovered he was free. “Now... about this dream of yours, what was it all about?”

“No...no no no... not a good idea, unless you want to be glued to me.” Xander had to throw it out there. Let the suggestion hang between them.

Spike scraped his teeth along Xander’s neck, then looked down at the boy, their mouths separated only by inches. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Heart pounding against his chest, Xander nodded. “Yes.” He was going to get kissed, he was. He knew it. Spike had that look... where his eyes got all laser-like and intense, where it made you feel like you were the center of his world.

Spike ghosted his mouth over Xanders and immediately rolled off. “Well too bad, I pick my own bed mates, yeah?”

“Spike!” Xander jackknifed into a sitting position. “Don’t you get it? You can’t play these games with me... not now.”

“Not playing, pet. Not the sort who likes to be forced into anything, yeah? Taking a shower,” he announced, walking into the small bathroom.

“Well talk about mixed messages! I mean is that a yeah... you’d be interested if it weren’t for the magic... or no, you’d never be interested in... in me and that was just payback?” The sound of rushing water was all the answer Xander got. “Dammit.”

He let out a breath and rolled over to the night stand. Last time he’d rummaged around, he’d seen some book someone had left. Not that he was actually going to read it, but it would be a good prop when Mr. Unaffected came out of the shower... a way to stop himself from looking at the guy. He lifted the book up and saw it was a romance novel with an extremely handsome bare chested man in leather pants staring coolly back at him with laser blue eyes. He was actually staring at the girl who was laughing and had probably thrown him into the lake behind them, since he was all wet and shiny.

Xander groaned out loud...

The bathroom door was tugged open so hard it came off its hinges. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!?” Spike yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Holy batman, Spike... you look... oh, this is bad. I know, that was bad.” Xander bit his lip and tried not to lust after the vampire with murder in his eyes. And no wonder. Wet leather pants clinging to him couldn’t be comfortable. But the picture he made.... Oh the hotness!

Part Three

Click Here To Find Out Whether There is Character Death

Xander sat quiet as a mouse, his eyes following Spike around the room. The vampire had been pacing for an hour. Eight steps in one direction. Glare. Fives steps across the room, return. Glare. Eight steps away again...

Glare.

Cringing, Xander shifted on the chair. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? For bloody ripping my coat into shreds... do you know that coat survived fire, demons, Petrovskian thieves, and a Slayer’s inability to wear it with the style it deserved, and now it’s gone,” he ground out.

A completely mollified Xander hung his head.

The vampire paced away and whipped around. “Or because the leather pants nearly cut off my bloody circulation?”

“I... I tried...” Xander. And he had. He’d run to the manager’s office and brought back scissors. So maybe while he was cutting the pants off Spike, he’d gotten distracted. Maybe his hand had lingered to parts he’d only imagined... maybe they’d been stuck together in that position too long. Maybe the manager barging in to get the scissors back had been bad. “I didn’t mean...”

Spike paced away, if only to keep himself from throttling Xander. He’d spent way too long with the boy’s hand on his crotch, growing hard, and yet snarling at him when he tried to move. No one, not Xander, and not his bloody magic, was going to force Spike into any situation not of his own choosing. And once they’d gotten over the pregnant pause when the manager walked in, and then got unstuck, things hadn’t got a stitch better.

Every time the boy had brought the car close to the building so Spike could walk in the shade and maybe make a short blanket covered break to get into it, something had gone wrong. He just knew it was Xander’s fault that some truck laden with mirrors had gotten into an accident. A thousand points of sunlight light were then aimed directly at the door of their room... trapping him inside.

“I’ve been exposed, glued, molested, and imprisoned... and all in less than twenty four hours, thanks to you.”

Xander bit his lip. Spike didn’t do ‘caged tiger’ very well. He was going to explode any minute now. And the higher Spike’s emotions, the more flustered Xander was getting. And that was bad. Anything could happen. “I know Spike... we should calm down... really, you know what happens...”

“Calm down... after what you’re bloody putting me through. You want me to...”

“Spike, please?” Xander nervously gripped the arms of the chair, hoping the emotion building up inside him wouldn’t explode. Oh no.... what if Spike exploded! No, not thinking that, not thinking that....

“Don’t you want to go home? Why are you keeping us here?”

The question surprised him. “I don’t know... it’s not on purpose.” Okay, what was he supposed to say? That being alone with Spike was a dream he’d had for a long time, even if it had turned out more nightmare than dream?

Stopping at the window, Spike moved the shades and saw the sun dipping down into the horizon. Any minute now, they could leave. If Xander didn’t bloody well fuck things up again.

He walked to his duffle bag and knocked Xander’s legs off it. “Did you pack my cigarettes?”

“Huh? Xander bent to help the vampire find them, and then everything went dark.

With a satisfied sigh, Spike threw the boy over his shoulder, picked up the bags and headed for the car. This was one way to make sure they got home.

Hours later, Spike pulled into the lot of another motel. He’d made great progress. Right, so he’d also had to knock Xander out a few more times, but at least they were getting somewhere now. If it weren’t for his fear of getting stranded in sunlight with no motels in sight, he wouldn’t be calling it a night just yet.

Spike had food and drink ready long before Xander made indecipherable “mmmm mmm” noises and started stretching on the bed. Any minute now, the boy would wake.

“Thirsty,” Xander muttered, as he sat up. His eyes widened when Spike put a glass of water in his hand. “Th...thanks. Am I smelling food....” And now he had a plate on his lap. Burger and french fries. Big dollop of ketchup on the side. “Am I dreaming again... no wait, am I making you serve me?”

“Don’t be a git. Just eat, then sleep.”

Chewing on a big bite of burger, Xander looked at Spike again. Was the guy nuts? As soon as he swallowed, he protested. “Just woke up, can’t go to sleep again. Anyway, shouldn’t we be leaving.... wait! Red velvet walls...”

“Yeah?”

“White table...”

Spike raised an eyebrow and stared him down.

“Red velvet bed covers...”

“Alright Harris, you’ve proven you know your primary colors.”

“We had blue walls. Not red... not velvet....”

Spike gave a one shouldered shrug and didn’t avoid the boy’s gaze. It wasn’t as if he could hide what had happened.

“Wait! You hit me... you bastard!” Xander plonked the plate onto the night stand and got up. “We’ve been driving all night, haven’t we... I have a headache and it’s your fault!”

“Nothing to get so excited about. I did what was best for you–“

“Best for me?” Xander pointed at his own chest, then at the vampire’s. “What you mean is for you!”

“Us. Best for us,” Spike held his hands up.

“Us, there is no us... you don’t want an us.” The fact that the vampire didn’t answer, and merely wore a satisfied look incensed him worse. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with here.”

“That a threat? Xander, sit down, eat your bloody burger. I’m tired, you’re tired...”

“How can I be tired, I’ve been knocked out for hours!” his voice rose with anger.

The ground shook under their feet. The plate started to slide across the night stand, but Spike caught it before it tilted over its edge. “Come on... calm down.”

The chair under his ass splintered into a thousand pieces.

“Bloody hell, owww! You trying to stake me with this?” he growled. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t be doing that again.” Like hell he wouldn’t. Only next time he’d make sure Xander stayed under.

“You are.... you’re really sorry?” Slightly mollified, Xander sat down and enjoyed his burger. The shaking slowed and stopped. Both men let out sighs of relief.

“Here.” Spike put his hand out and opened his palm.

“Aspirin? Whoa... that’s really thoughtful, even if the headache is your fault.” Xander took the pills and gulped them down. “Why do you have to be mean right before you go all nice?”

“I’m not mean.”

“Yeah you are, and then you get guilty... and go all Buffy-bot nice... anything you want Xander, on me.”

Spike made a sound of derision and started to walk away.

Buffy-bot. That thought sent tension shooting through Xander. He didn’t like to think of Spike with Buffy. Even with robot Buffy. Doing everything he wanted. Probably just like he was acting now, bringing food, aspirin, water. Sex. Xander’s gaze lingered on Spike’s jean clad ass. Sex. If he had a Spike-bot, it would match the Spike of his dreams. It would...

Whipping around on the turn of a dime, Spike stalked toward the bed, crossing one leg in front of the other, and swaying his hips. Xander’s gaze was glued to Spike’s hand.. The hand slowly undoing his shirt, showing an ever growing wedge of perfectly smooth alabaster skin. Swallowing hard, he finally spoke up. “Wha.... what are you doing, Spike?”

“Whatever you want pet.”

“Huh?” Xander’s gaze traveled down the expanse of Spike’s chest, lingering right above his belt. His heart thumped against his ribs.

“I love you. I’m doing whatever you want. What do you want luv?”

“You’re... calling me luv?”

“Would you prefer piston in the sheets?”

“No,” Xander gulped as the vampire continued advancing and put his knee on the bed.

“Captain animal? Love machine? That’s it... you’re my love machine. I want you to love me all night long. Oh, oh, ooooh, please love me all night long.” Spike cocked his head and repeated the phrase.

Xander blanched as Spike bot crawled up the bed toward him. “No no no...that’s not what I want, I...” And then Spike was covering him, laying over him with only the sheet separating them. “My burger...”

The plate was tossed aside. “Come on luv. Fuck me all night long. No one does it better than you. Harder than you. More masterfully than you.” Iron strong hands gripped Xander’s shoulders and rolled them both over. Now spike was under Xander, still separated by a sheet. “Do it to me, just the way you like it. Oh yes, yes... just do it, luv, just do it.”

This was a nightmare, not a dream. This was nothing like Xander’s dreams. In his dreams, Spike wanted him. Spike would push him up against a wall, or bend him over a table, or shove him down on the bed. Spike would make demands, his voice rough and needy, his hands groping, his body hard and waiting for Xander to catch up.

Xander wanted to scream... if his imagination was going to play tricks on him, why not at least give him the Spike he wanted? Not that he wanted that either, but if it had to happen....

“Oh...oh...” Spike jerked his hips up, sliding his hand down Xander’s back and gripping his ass. “Please... please, take me.” The needy words spilled out of his mouth, but he was seething inside. There was no way to stop the writhing of his body and the begging sounds that would make even a grade C porn star cringe. If this was what Xander wanted from him...

“I’m sorry Spike...” Xander couldn’t help sounding breathless. Even if this wasn’t exactly what he wanted, it was Spike under him, it was Spike moving against him, and it was Spike’s hands on his ass. He closed his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry luv. Just flip me over like a pancake and have your way with me.” Rebellion boiled inside Spike, even as he rubbed himself against Xander’s hips, even as he felt his blasted body come alive. “I want all the syrup you can give me, bay-bee... yes,oh oh, yes...”

“No..”

“Yes, oh yes, Pet, flip me, drill me, sand me down and polish me...”

Almost involuntarily, Xander found himself pressing down, thrusting back against Spike. But the stuff he was saying was enough to make him go limp. “Stop talking...” he panted, okay.... if he came, it wasn’t his fault... not technically...

“Let me oil your wood, you’re my favorite carpenter in Sunnydale, no... in the world.... please... oh oh...please spackle me...”

“Sp... spackle...” Xander stopped moving. It was all over for him.

“Yes luv, show me your two by four. You know you can caulk my rubber any day... I...”

It went on for what seemed like hours. Xander ignored Spike’s strange pleas, raised the volume and watched t.v. There was no getting away from Spike, but he was no longer turned on, so there was no danger of taking advantage of the moment. The shaking and moving around of the body under him was irritating at first, but he tired to convince himself it was like being on a swing. Soon... he forgot all about Spike.

A commercial for strawberries came on. That made Xander’s stomach growl. He wanted to reach out and grab the wet strawberry, put in his mouth and....

Before he completed the thought, he found himself sailing through the air and slamming into the wall. The paper thin wall shook so hard, a picture fell off it, right next to xander. “Fuck...” He looked up at the bed with wounded eyes. “It wasn’t my fault.... I mean... I...”

Spike tossed the bedding... all of it onto the ground. “Don’t... don’t say a bloody word to me. Not now,” he ground out. “And don’t give me that look. If you want a puppet, go to a toy store, I’m not one.”

Mortified, Xander drew his knees to his chest and hid his face. Never mind that his back hurt, he deserved it. “It wasn’t what I wanted.”

“The hell it wasn’t. Me at your beck and call, begging.... As if you didn’t just make your dream come true.”


“No. That’s not how I dream it. Not at all. You come after me. I beg,” he whispered too low for anyone to hear. Anyone but a vampire.

The only answer Xander got was that of the door slamming. It was only a few hours before dawn. He hoped Spike wouldn’t lose track of time in his current state and get stuck somewhere. On the other hand... seeing him again too soon wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

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