Touched

by
Virtual Personal

Part Four

If you want to know whether there is character death Click Here

It had been an incredibly hot day. The kind where you could fry an egg on the sidewalk. Xander had gone out, driven around listlessly, checked out the nearby lounges, the places Spike could have taken shelter from daylight. But he'd found nothing. No sign of the vampire. No phone calls. Nothing.

Now that the sun was gone, he sat in the small motel room, antsy as hell. First he caught himself bouncing his leg up and down. Then he was nervously changing channels on the remote, until he threw it on the bed in sheer frustration. Where was he?

Spike had stormed off so angry at him. And yeah, he could understand the big bad not wanting to have spewed those.... oh God, it made Xander cringe to even think back on Spike-bot's love talk. How had his mind conjured those things up? Spackle me? Heat burned his cheeks. Argh... it wasn't anything he'd ever want to hear from Spike, or anyone else!

He rocked back and forth. Okay, Spike was a big boy. He knew when he left that the sun would come up soon. He was probably holed up somewhere nice and safe and would walk through the door any sec. Yeah.... he would. And even if he was still mad, at least he'd be alive, and ...

Making a frustrated sound, Xander walked to the bathroom and washed his face with cold water. Again. If only he could find a way to stop focusing his magic on Spike. If he came back. No.... when he came back.

But how? How when it was Spike who'd caused him to realize... to face he was gay? The guy was a walking, talking sex God, and one day Xander had awakened to the truth. He didn't privately obsess over Spike's fight moves, or constantly argue with him, or ignore him, just because he was jealous or wanted to be like him or hate the fact he was a vampire. He wanted to get in the guy's tight leather pants. It was that simple, and that complicated.

"Plenty of way cuter guys. Texans with nice drawls... Tall guys with hats...." he muttered under his breath as he walked back into the room. If only he could fixate on someone else. Well there was that guy who'd moved next door, with the cool Chinese angel symbol with wings tattoo. Or Brad Pitt, now he had a nice ass! And maybe...

A clicking sounded. Xander's gaze swung to the door to catch sight of a very disheveled Spike enter. It took a full minute to sink in. The smell of perfume. Cheap, cloying perfume. The mussed hair and clothes. The huge orange lipstick marks on his shirt and neck... damn, she must have had a big mouth.

Xander's stomach roiled. His gaze burned with anger, his face flushed to a dark shade.

Spike raised his hands, "Xander... calm..." he glanced around at the shaking room. "Look, you have to...."

Images of blonde bimbos, red headed sluts, brunets with one thing on their mind... touching Spike all over, kissing him, fucking him.... Xander wanted them out of his head. He wanted them to stop, but all he could see was the evidence. The smell... the lipstick. Hands all over Spike.... mouths.... fuck, not his mouth but theirs...

Spike took a few steps toward Xander, "come on Harris, get a hold of--" Some sort of force field pushed him back. And was Xander wrinkling his nose? He tried again, but stumbled as the ground rolled beneath him. "Xander! Stop this, now!"

Eyes trained on the vampire, all Xander could do was breath. His chest rose and fell as he tried to fight the images, pretend like this hadn't happened. All the while, the room was going to shambles. Pictures fell off the wall. The television crashed onto the ground.

"Harris....what the..." Spike tried to dodge the wash cloths that were flying toward him. He raised his hands to keep them off, but suddenly they were scrubbing his face and chest, lathering him up. "Owww.... that bloody hurts..."

Xander wanted it off Spike... all evidence of the woman. Or women. He wanted the vampire squeaky clean, like he'd been in bed....

As a washcloth attacked his cheek, Spike said something unintelligible. The scrubbing was so hard, he thought his skin would rub off. "Oh no, you bloody well won't," he ground out, trying to catch the edge of his shirt, as he found it being pulled off him. He tugged on one side, while an invisible force tugged on the other. By now he ought to be used to the sound of his clothes getting ripped to bloody shreds. Now his entire chest was open to attack. "Dammitall!'

Invisible hands worked at his belt. He might have enjoyed that, if they weren't tugging his pants down along with his boxers, to reveal more flesh for the evil wash cloth. His eyes widened as the area of suds on his body widened, to include more. "That's my arse.... that's my... Erp!"

When the wash cloth reached Spike's privates, Xander's temper started to cool. But only for a brief second, the time it took to get over the shock of what was happening. He still wanted the vampire clean of the girls...

"Xander!" Spike found himself imprisoned, hands raised in the air, legs straddled as if by invisible cuffs as the wash cloth worked his body, had their way with him. "I get the message, I'll take a shower!"

Spike's words came true. Water poured from the ceiling, right over his head. He sputtered, "too cold...too hot!." And the washing continued.

It continued. And continued. And continued. Until the floor was soaked. Until his skin was so sanitized a surgeon entering the operating room would be jealous.

Xander's eyes cooled. Now that Spike was squeaky clean again, he wanted the washing to stop. But it wouldn't. And he was growing more miserable by the second.

"Xander."

This time Spike's voice held neither anger nor impatience. It was a plea. That only made Xander feel worse. "I want it to stop, I really do. I don't want to be fucking freak," he shouted in frustration.

"Giles. Call him. Maybe they've found some sort of solution." Spike managed to sound calm and collected. The last thing he wanted was for Xander to grow more agitated. At least the room wasn't shaking as badly, and items were flying through the air a bit more infrequently. Also, the invisible force had released his arms so he no longer looked like a stick figure. Most men in his situation would probably have covered their nakedness, but he didn't try or care.

Xander didn't even know what to say. The emotions stirring inside him were confusing, explosive and depressing all at once. Half ashamed, he made the phone call. When Giles asked him what was wrong, his eyes teared up. "Everything."

"Give me the phone." Still forcefully rooted to the spot, Spike put his hand out.

Xander pulled the sheet off the bed, and tossed it to spike, then gave him the phone. Spike immediately wrapped the sheet around his waist.

Sitting on the end of the bed, Xander rocked back and forth. He couldn't help noticing how the now wet sheet molded to Spike's ass. Or where it stopped, and where Spike's water-slicked skin gleamed. He had to stop this. If he didn't, the sheet would tear too. It would get worse and worse. How could it get worse? It was baaad.

Spike caught himself as the room started to shake again. "He's getting upset. I think that might be one of his triggers. Wait... did you just call me Sherlock?" Apparently Giles' sense of humor improved when he was out of harm's way. He wondered if he should make a stripper joke, but decided he was the one that needed help right now. "Music.... as in it soothes the savage beast. That the best you can come up with? Preliminary research my arse!" Spike shut the phone and tossed it onto a chair.

"What kind of cheap room did you get us? No alarm clock," he glared at the telly which was now on the ground. No hope for music from there either. "Xander, take a breath."

Xander took a deep breath, and another, and another. But nothing helped. He was too upset at his powerlessness and it was making the cycle worse. Someone was gonna get hurt. Spike was going to drown. Or the wet ceiling was going to come down on them. Or....

"Well she's an earth quakin', hip shakin', soul breaking, love-making machine, yeah, yeah..." Spike stalled mid song. "That's probably not a good one considering the circumstances."

Brown, questioning eyes stared at him. The room still moved. Water still poured down his face. The blasted wash cloth were still circling around him like piranhas waiting to nip him to bits. Spike cleared his throat and tried again.

Close your eyes,
Have no fear,
The monsters gone,
He's on the run and your daddy's here,

Beautiful,
Beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful Boy

Xander's mouth dropped open. He'd had no idea Spike could sing. What was this song? Was the idiot singing a lullaby to try to put him to sleep after knocking him out all day? It couldn't work. But he didn't want the vampire to stop.

Before you go to sleep,
Say a little prayer,
Every day in every way,
It's getting better and better,

The pressure holding Spike's legs in place dissolved. Immediately, the vampire crossed to the bed, sat down and pulled Xander into a hug. Never mind that they were both now getting drenched, or red, blue and white face towels were circling like carrions. He need the boy calmed if the shaking and waterworks were to stop.

Beautiful,
Beautiful, beautiful,
Beautiful Boy,

Out on the ocean sailing away,
I can hardly wait,
To see you to come of age,
But I guess we'll both,
Just have to be patient,

Strong arms crushed him, held him safe. Made him cry. Xander's shoulders shook as he sobbed like a child, burying his face in Spike's neck. Anguish. Desire. Self-loathing. Jealousy. Salvation. They weren't just words. They were real, and they surfaced so sharply, it hurt. But as Spike's comforting voice washed over him, the eruption of feelings inside eased. He snuggled closer, held tight as if to cling to a buoy in a stormy sea.

Beautiful boy... Spike ended on a soft note. Everything had stopped. The shaking. The water. The sexual harassment by rough fabric. But he'd forgotten that already. "I've been told only my own mother could like my voice, but this is a first... it driving someone to cry."

Xander didn't want to move away. He wouldn't, not unless he was pried away. "Spike, I don't think I'm your mother."

"That a compliment?"

Xander felt Spike's chest vibrate and rumble as the vampire laughed. He merely nodded, sliding his cheek up and down against wet skin.

"It's alright. You'll get a handle on this," Spike promised, rubbing his mouth back and forth over the top of Xander's hair.

It felt like a kiss. It felt like a soft kiss. Xander's throat tightened.

Spike didn't know how long they sat this way. It was clear that Xander had no intention of moving. Xander who's warm breath was skimming across the sensitive skin of Spike's throat. Xander who was wet and plastered to him, whose rough jeans were rubbing against Spike's exposed abdomen above the sheet.

Holding the boy imperceptibly tighter, he whispered, "get some rest now." He overcame Xander's resistance, by turning him around in his arms, but still holding him, spooning him as they lay on their sides.

"I can't sleep, I slept all day," Xander half heartedly protested.

Smiling with the knowledge that Xander had exhausted himself, what with the magic and the crying. Even the rhythm of his heart and breaths told the vampire that the boy would soon be asleep. "Just rest then."

"Don't we have to..."

"Leave? Yeah. A few hours won't hurt." Spike tried not to notice Xander wiggling his arse into his pelvis in an attempt to get closer. "You can't magically dry us, can you?"

Loud humming noises erupted from the bathroom and drew closer.

"No... not blow dryers, please...none of those!" Spike envisioned a swarm of the noisy buggers surrounding them and aiming hot air into their faces, not to mention other places which had no business near any electrical equipment of any sort. He prepared to get up and towel them both dry, when the noise stopped.

Looking down, he saw Xander had fallen into a deep sleep. Odd that his hand was behind him, holding Spike. Sighing, he lay back down. He'd never fall asleep. Three minutes later, he was dead to the world.

(Song Credit - John Lennon, Beautiful Boy)

Part Five

Click Here To Find Out Whether There is Character Death

They’d been driving for hours with no incidents. In fact, they’d fallen into an easy camaraderie, even managing to laugh about Xander’s special method of *magical cleansing.* The Spike-bot incident was still a topic that was off limits though, and both men steered well away from it.

“So, this surprise. Where is it?”

“Told you it’s a surprise, you’ll just have to wait till we get there, yeah?”

Xander jangled his knee. Where could Spike be taking him. Out to dinner? Maybe a bar? He’d mentioned down time, and it being somewhere not their hotel room. “For food?”

Spike shot him a quelling look.

“Drinks then? C’mon... tell me.”

“Almost there.”

“You’ve been saying that for hours!” He couldn’t wait. The last couple of days had been nothing but stress. If he wasn’t messing up with the magic, he was worrying about messing up, or covering up his mess ups.

“You’ve been asking every minute. Close your eyes and sleep.” Spike shook his head and changed lanes, passing a truck.

“That your answer to everything? Sleep.” Xander grumbled under his breath as he reached for a chocolate bar. He’d already been through the chips and the cookies. He glanced at Spike’s facade. It wasn’t too stern right now. He wondered if he could ask a question that had been bothering him.

“Not yet, almost there,” Spike answered automatically, as he had been for miles.

“That’s not... not what I wanna know.”

“You might be a warlock, but I’m not psychic. Or is this that bloody stupid game you wanted to play?”

“What blood...oh, twenty questions! That’s a great game. Everyone plays it, me, Willow...”

“Yeah, THAT’S everybody that plays it. Ask.”

Xander licked his lips. “You... A couple times now, you’ve said something about not liking to be forced... I mean...” he raised his hand up at the look Spike threw him. “No one does but even ... not forcing you... I ... just wondering, if there’s something more there?” Yeah... like wonderin’ if there was no magical glue involved, would Spike be interested? Sometimes a look entered the vampires eyes that said yes, but Xander couldn’t read him all that well. He never could.

There was silence. Not the comfortable kind. The kind that made you feel like you were sitting on the edge of a cliff about to fall off. When it stretched to breaking point, Xander looked out the window to indicate no answer was needed. It was pitch dark now, all he saw were a few headlights on the highway that stretched out ahead. Suddenly he was as lonely as the highway.

“Had a problem with a curse once.”

Xander held his breath and didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t even turn to look at the vampire, half afraid that was all he’d get out of him.

“A love spell. That’s what it was. A sodding love spell.” Gripping the steering wheel more tightly, Spike stepped on the pedal, ignoring the rising speedometer. “Every time I got near her, I was consumed with need. The need to please her, to make her smile. A cutting word from her lips, and I was near tears.”

The raw anger and pain in Spike’s voice made a lump grow in Xander’s throat. Still, he didn’t turn or ask any questions.

“It was like Cecily all over again, only worse. Because I didn’t want her. When there was space between us, if I was across town, I hated her. For doing this to me. For making me into her puppet. And I was that... her little jester, happy to jump at her command. Run her bloody errands... and her friends’. ‘Spike, tell me what my mouth looks like, or my eyes,’ she’s say. I’d spew poetry and they’d laugh. ‘Beg me’ she’d say–“ Spike’s voice broke. “And I would. In front of the teetering crowd.”

The car started to shake and bounce, like it was an earthquake... only it wasn’t. Xander gripped the door handle. He was seething on behalf of the vampire. More than that... he was angry at himself.

“Was a long time ago.” Now cool as ice, Spike put his hand on Xander’s knee. “No need getting yourself lathered up over it, yeah?”

The car jerked and swerved one last time, then smoothed out over the road. Xander put his hand over Spike’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t you.”

“For the other night. Wasn’t what I wanted. Not even close. I didn’t wish it on you Spike. I...”

“Good thing that. Would have hated to see you find your end the same way she did,” Spike drawled.

“She... you found a way to... okay, didn’t think I’d ever be glad you found a way to kill someone but this is like one BIG huge exception. How?”

Spike was done with the topic. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“My hand.”

“What? Oh... no...no I’m not enjoying it. This is me NOT enjoying it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah... perfectly sure. No doubt about it. I know what I’m feeling. And.... um... why?”

“Because you’ve bloody well trapped my hand under yours, haven’t you?”

“Wha... oh!” Lifting his hand as if it had been burned, Xander caught the triumphant gleam in Spike’s eyes. “I wasn’t thinking!”

Spike quirked an eyebrow and reclaimed his hand.

“You’re sexy, but not THAT sexy.”

“Not what you were saying last night in your sleep, yeah?”

“I don’t talk in my sleep - what was I saying? Oh, shit!” Xander panicked. It could have been any number of things. Heat crept across his cheeks. “C’mon?”

“Not putting you out of your misery that quick, am I?” Spike exited and drove into a slightly larger city than the last.

“They had rooms with two beds,” Xander pointed out as they put their stuff down in the small motel room.

“Would that have made a difference?”

The last time they’d slept in two small twin beds, Spike’s mattress had floated up toward the ceiling, then dumped him on top of Xander. Neither one of them had been expecting it. There had been cries of pain. Accusation. Then the territorial fight over space and blankets. “One big bed, good idea. Where are you taking me?”

Spike stopped mid-stride, turned, and headed for the small desk. Pulling the yellow pages close, he started flipping through it.

Xander tensed. “You don’t have a place in mind, do you? Spike?” All that time, all that false hope! “It was a trick... another trick just to make sure we got here, right?”

Hmm hmm hmmm, beautiful boy

“You’re humming, why are you humming. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Preventive measure.” Music worked the last time Xander’s magic got out of hand, why not use it to buy time. “Here.” He pointed at an ad in the yellow pages.

“You tricked me. I’m not a kid, I know...” he read the name of the place and broke into a broad smile. Just as Spike relaxed, Xander added, “Rage... I’m so happy I could hug you. Takin’ a shower now.” He rushed to the bathroom ignoring the hemming and hawing and protestations.

“Rage ... I’m not about to go to a sodding gay club... I... fuck!” Spike slammed his hand down on the table. “Rick’s bar... that’s where we’re going. Right... that’s where... fuck.”

The music blared. The lights flashed. People... mostly men... danced on the dance floor or in a dark corner, or drank at the neon bar.

“Oh Spike, you bring me to the bestest places.”

“Stop your simpering, git,” Spike frowned at Xander’s exaggerated motions, but he wasn’t blind. Couldn’t help noticing how well the tight black jeans fit the boy, or how low cut they were. Or how the thin skin tight hardly there shirt he’d tucked inside showed off every plane of his chest and abdomen. Warlock baby was built, and showing it off tonight.

Turning his head, Xander kissed Spike on the mouth. Very lightly, and only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to mark the vamp as his - he hoped. “What? Just thanking you. But I think you enjoyed it too much.”

“I what?”

“Enjoyed..”

“Did not.”

“Still holding me.” Xander gave a triumphant grin that lit up his boyish face.

Spike looked down to find his hands were on Xander’s hips, holding him. He let go immediately, and narrowed his eyes as the still smug boy went to bar to order drinks. Xander was in a strange mood tonight... he’d need to be watched, that much was clear. And he was being watched... lots of male eyes doing watching here. Making a surly face, the vampire sat down at the bar and caught the beer bottle Xander shoved his way. “One hour.”

“Huh?”

“We’re leaving in one hour, so do whatever you have to...”

Xander gave a rude snort and raised the bottle to his mouth. “Says you and what army?”

“Don’t bloody need an....” Spike snapped his mouth shut as his stool began to vibrate. Was Xander getting a hold over his power?

“You were saying?” Xander grinned, and slowly pulled his foot away from the legs of Spike’s barstool.

“Fun place, this. You owe me one.” He lifted the bottle, staring moodily at his companion. He’d never been one to enjoy a game of having the tables turned on him. He wasn’t about to start now.

“And it was soooo nice of you to bring me all the way here. Course I owe you one. Be happy to give you one. You know all you need to do is ask.” Okay, so he had no idea how or why he’d gotten so brave. Probably it was because he’d managed to pull one or two over on Spike, and the vampire looked like he was out of his element. Oh...maybe he didn’t show it, but Xander knew. “Dance with me, Spike.”

“Bugger off.” Spike closed his eyes against the teasing look, against the hope. “Bar full of men, go find one who cares.”

“You care.” Xander sat down. Maybe he didn’t care the way Xander wanted him to, but he did care.

A laser stare was the response Spike gave. “Look over there, guy in leather. Might want to tear the clothes off him, or maybe shrink wrap him.”

When Xander pushed away from the bar, Spike felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant it to hurt the boy. “Was a joke... bloody...” It had been a joke. He was over it. Odd that Xander wasn’t. Well, maybe the boy would get lucky and loosen up. He turned his back to him. Wasn’t something he was interested in seeing.

Several beers later, he still hadn’t turned around. But he was listening... zeroing in on Xander’s voice, his laughter. Even the muffled silences that told him that kisses were probably being exchanged. Or it could be just in his mind. Or the fact that he’d had to rebuff quite a few touchy feely hands... if they were aimed at him, stood to reason they were aimed at Xander as well. And the boy was probably being receptive. “Another one,” he growled, hardly waiting for the bottle to touch the bar before taking a long swig of it.

Another couple of beers later, he heard Xander ask someone to dance. And he heard the rude “fuck off.” Setting the beer down with a thud, he twisted off the barstool and strode across the room.

No one was entitled to be responsible for that look on Xander’s face. No one but himself. He was ready to give the guy a bloody nose job, when the guy smiled. Right... as if Spike wanted to dance with a short slender blond.

As the guy rose from his chair to introduce himself, Spike put his hand on his chest and shoved him back down. “Fuck off. Not interested in anyone but him, yeah?”

“Who...” Xander’s head bobbed. “Me?”

“Not dancing with myself, am I?” Spike had him in his arms and was steering him toward the center of the dance floor. This wasn’t his scene, he didn’t want to necessarily be on display.

A leather clad leg slid against Xander’s leg. His breath caught in his chest. He tensed beyond breaking point.

“You wanted to dance, stop standing there like a robot... and for God’s sake, breathe. Last time I checked, you were still human.” Spike gave a smug smile, pulling the boy closer and running his hand down his back, forcing him to relax . “One... two.. One... two...”

“Wha...what are you doing?”

“Teaching you to dance with a man, you git. Follow, not lead.”

“I...follow, yeah... but I’m a man too... alright... following.” Who the hell cared who lead, he was in Spike’s arms. He wasn’t forcing the vampire. There was no magic involved, and they were dancing. And God, the combined scent of leather and soap was deadly. His heart pounded as he slid his hand behind Spike’s neck, and ran his thumb back and forth.

“You’re enjoying yourself too much.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I knew it.” Spike whispered across Xander’s ear.

Heat shot through Xander. His skin prickled everywhere. He was hot, and flushed, and... God, was happy. It felt like home. The shock of moist heat in his ear had him jerk slightly. “You’re enjoying that too much.”

“What’s that,” Spike asked.

“The in depth ear exam.” Xander smirked and burrowed his face in Spike’s neck.

“Proud of you, whelp. Haven’t hardly used any of your magic.”

“Yeah...” If Xander’s voice was strained, it could be because over Spike’s shoulder, he could see the a long tail wagging... a long white-blond tail, one that waved away Mr. I’m Slick, who had been heading their way, probably to cut into the dance. “I’m.. I’m trying.”

“Something wrong?” Spike started to turn, to look behind him.

“Oh no, just... just...”

“Just?” Spike locked gazes with him, waiting for an explanation.

“Just this.” Taking a deep breath, Xander kissed him, slowly sliding his mouth back and forth over the vampire’s. Please kiss me back. Please don’t see what’s behind you.

Spike stiffened for a second. He wasn’t used to these things not being his idea. But somewhere between surprise and stupid pride, instinct took over. Delving his tongue inside Xander’s mouth, he stroked the guy’s palette lightly, before tangling their tongues in a dance that mimicked the motions of their bodies.

Xander tasted sweet, and innocent, and trusting... and the way he clung to him, the way he made a small noise coming from the back of his throat, the way he squirmed, the sound of his blood rushing and his heart thundering, it was exciting... exhilarating to know he had that affect on the boy.

Xander broke the kiss. “I think you’re enjoying yourself too much.”

“Oh?” He followed the boy’s gaze... down to the his bulge in his trousers and decided the best answer might be none. Tugging him close, he gave him another kiss, this time a bruiser that left Xander completely breathless.

Eventually resting his chin on Spike’s shoulder, Xander was treated to yet another glimpse of that glorious tail. How long would it last? He might have to keep the dance going for a while. The tail swished down, slapping against the back of Spike’s thigh and worming between his legs.

Spike gave Xander a piercing look. “Enjoying... me?”

Xander gulped and gave a squeaky “yes,” putting his head down and resuming the dance. If only it was his hand roaming the way that tail was, but... please... please let it disappear without Spike finding out. Well... not yet. He spared an evil smile for yet another drooling guy who was backing away, mouthing none other than bizarro!.

Part Six

Click Here To Find Out Whether There is Character Death

*Thump Thump Thump*

Xander fought it... the pull toward consciousness. His dream was too good to let go of just yet. Hot...so hot. He knew it was brought on by all the dancing and the kissing. And by God, there had been some touching even. Burrowing deeper into the covers he ignored the sound.

*Bang, Bang... Bang*

“Shshsh, we’re sleeping!” Xan rolled over on his side, forcing his mind back to the dream. Slowly, the image came back into focus. Spike ... trapped in a painting on the wall, looking down at Xander on the bed. Watching him, wanting him. Blue eyes hungry, so hungry for Xander. Nose pressing against an invisible force field. Desire.

Heat curled tight in Xander’s stomach at the thought of Spike aching for him. His skin tightened, grew sensitive, so sensitive that the wind from the ceiling fan teased him, drew a groan from him.

He’d wanted Spike for so long, and now Spike was the one who was staring at him...stroking him with a heated gaze that roved over his body and wouldn’t quit. He was gonna milk the moment, oh yeah. Look how angry Spike looked... angry and hot and needing him. Xander just knew once Spike came out of the painting, he’d be all over him... push him back, take what he wanted. Take what Xan wanted to give him all along.

A little bit of torture would guarantee it, wouldn’t it? Staring back at Spike, Xander pulled his shorts down, gave Spike an eyeful. And oh yeah, Spike was watching. His eyes were focused on Xander, following Xander when he moved around on the bed, following his hand up and down his body. Xander stroked himself, nice and easy, almost coming off the bed at the suddenly anguished expression that crossed Spike’s features.

Want.

Need.

Beg.

A room shattering sound brought Xander wide awake. Heart racing he sat up, shedding the dream as he tried to put together where they were now, and what was happening. No Spike next to him. He glanced toward the bathroom door.

*Bang!*

With a start, he looked at the wall in front of him. “Holy shit!” He scrambled to the head of his bed, staring at Spike.... angry.... hand’s pressed against some invisible force which held him inside a freaking painting!

“Get me out of here Harris, now!” Spike snarled the order.

“Fuck...” Xander couldn’t miss the large bulge in Spike’s leather pants. What was glorious fun in a dream wasn’t half so good in real life. How long had he trapped the vampire? Had he tortured him like he had in his dream? Had he done to Spike what that girl with the love spell had? Sheer panic stopped Xander’s mind from working.

Spike slammed his hand against the invisible force, shaking the thin walls. “Focus. Think me out of this. Do it!”

“I... I can’t.... I’m sor...sorry...”

“Harris, you can... look at me... look at me!”

Forcing himself to meet Spike’s gaze, Xander concentrated. Please, please let it work... please. I want him free.

“You can do it,” Spike’s tone dropped an octave, was reassuring. Soothing. Nice, so nice.

Xander’s chest stopped heaving. “Free... free... free....” He wished he knew magical words, he wished he could whisper them and make what he wanted come true. But nothing was happening. Nothing. He closed his eyes, fighting back the misery. Concentration was not his strong suit. His mind kept wandering. He wasn’t even sure that thinking of Spike as free would do anything. Maybe it would take time, just like all the other times when time wore away the spells. “Free...” he muttered.

“Don’t try that again.” Spike ground out, bringing his face close to Xander’s.

“Sp... Spike, you’re free.” Xander licked his lips, afraid of what to expect next. “I ... I did it...”

“You did it, yes. All bloody night long, shook your hips at me, put your lips against the painting, whispered things...”

Xander covered his eyes as Spike gave him the list of ways in which he’d tortured the vampire. “Oh God... oh God Spike, I’m sorry...”

“... told me all the things you wanted me to do, asked me to fuck you, laughed at my agony, made it worse and worse...”

“Jeez, I did that... I didn’t mean..., you know I wouldn’t want that. Spike I... Mmmph.” Xander’s words were stemmed by Spike’s mouth, kissing him, his tongue slipping in and out, his hands suddenly all over Xander. The effects of the dream came back full force. In two seconds flat, Xander was responding, kissing Spike back, thrusting his arousal into Spike’s palm.

“You like this?” Spike’s tone was silky smooth.

“Yes... oh yes,” Xander was quickly growing breathless.

“And this,” Spike tongue fucked Xander’s ear.

“Oh God yes, Sp... Spike.”

“And you’re sorry?”

“Uh huh, I’m sorry, oh God, Spike please...”

“Well it’s not that easy.” Spike shoved Xander up against the headboard, taking his hand away. “Now who's the one in agony?” His gaze dropped to the proof of Xander’s need.

“Wha...” Still panting, he wasn’t sure what happened. “Spike aren’t you going to do me...”

“Yeah, I am. And you’re going to sit there and watch. Like you made me,” he growled. “Owe me that much. Keep your hands on the bed, you glued mine above the waist didn’t you?”

Xander’s brain was still trying to play catch up as he watched Spike pull up a chair close, sit down in front of him and unzip his pants. His eyes widened as Spike pulled himself out and started stroking, never taking his gaze off Xander’s face. “Wha...”

In great detail, Spike told Xander what he was doing to him. How he was kissing him, how he was touching him. Told him where his hands were, how he was pushing into Xander, how tight Xander was. All the while, Spike stroked himself, growling a warning whenever Xander tried to touch himself.

Panting hard, Xander helplessly thrust against air. He made a mess of the blanket, balling it within his fists. The look in Spike’s lust filled eyes, the tenor of his voice, so heavy and sexy, it was driving him nuts... he wanted the vampire so bad, it hurt. Tears stung his eyes, and still, Spike refused to touch him or allow him to touch himself. And when the vampire came with a groan, exploded right in front of his eyes, Xander almost lost it, almost touched himself.

His eyes widened as Spike abruptly got up, went into the bathroom and slammed the door. “Oh God.” The temptation to help himself was strong. But he knew Spike would know, and somehow... he knew he owed the vampire. Gritting his teeth, he flipped the television on. Cartoons... women... anything to take his mind off the sexy vampire and the smell of sex still hanging in the room.

Hours later, they were on the road again. They’d stopped to get food. Oddly, everything was normal. Once Spike got his revenge, it seemed he’d forgotten about holding a grudge or anything.

They laughed and joked. Neither one mentioned the fact they were only hours from Sunnydale. Both probably expected a disaster to stop them from getting there, but so far... nothing.

One thing that bugged Xander was how Spike blew hot and cold. You’d think none of the personal stuff happened. Like they hadn’t danced in each others’ arms. Like Spike hadn’t admitted to wanting him so bad, hadn’t kissed him. They were friends again. Buds. He let out a breath of frustration. “

“Get some sleep Harris.”

“You’re always trying to get me to sleep. Look what happened last night when I slept.” Uh... so not a good topic to bring up. Was he an idiot?

“Mmm got a point there.”

“I do? Huh?”

“You’re dangerous when you’re asleep and dangerous when you’re awake. What kind of warlock did you say you were?”

See... there he went again, all business. “A Jagard warlock, no idea what that means.”

“It’ll be good once you’re all trained. Maybe you’ll be able to do some useful non-sexual things.”

Heat burned Xander’s cheeks. “Can’t help it. I’m a guy. They say guys think of sex every few seconds...”

“And some of us are obsessed with glue, leather, wetness, and big bad vampires.”

Xander swallowed. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not obsessed with Angelus.” Was it his imagination or did Spike’s hands tighten on the steering wheel?

“When we get there, you’ll stay? I mean at Buffy’s. You know, for the first night?” he asked, trying not to sound like he was begging.

Spike glanced out the side window, then straight ahead. His mouth flattened into a straight line. Finally, he answered. “Sure mate. Could do.”

They hadn’t said a word to each other from the minute they crossed into the Sunnydale city limits. There was tension. Both knew that Xander wasn’t ready to go home yet. That the only reason he was going back was to deal with his powers.

There had been physical manifestations of his desire not to get home. A few times, the car had started to shake. When music from the radio didn’t do a thing, Spike hummed along with it. That seemed to help. The shaking never got too bad. Nothing rammed against the car. No lightning bolts struck.

Spike turned into the driveway at Buffys, put the car into park and pulled up the hand brake. Silence. Five minutes came and went. Then ten. Spike turned his head and searched Xander’s face.

Xander took a deep breath. “We gotta go, don’t we.”

Spike shook his head. “Not until you’re ready.”

A hug. A kiss. He’d take anything, but couldn’t ask. Taking another big lungfull of air, Xander opened the door. “Thanks Spike, for not leaving me on my ass. I know there were plenty of times you wanted to.”

Giving a nod, Spike followed him out of the car and up the stairs of the porch. It took one knock, and then Buffy was outside, hugging Xander.

“You’re home.” She pulled him inside, letting the screen door slam shut.

“Bloody great. No welcome home Spike,” the vampire muttered, opening the door for himself and walking inside. At least Dawn’s welcoming shrieks made him feel like he wasn’t invisible.

“Giles is on his way,” Buffy flopped down on the sofa next to Xander. “He’s been doing a lot of research. Looks like there isn’t much written on Jagard warlocks, but he’s getting you some help. Live help.”

“You mean... gonna get to meet one?” Xander bit his lip, trying to tell himself it was gonna be okay. Little did he know he was shaking his leg, bouncing it up and down.

“Maybe that should wait until tomorrow. Give the boy a chance to breath.”

“I’m not nervous.” Xander felt the weight of spike’s gaze, and put his hand on his knee, to stop the movements. “Just worried about Giles... I mean after what happened.”

“Giles is going to live,” Buffy grinned. “So... you gonna spill? He said there’s something that happened that he couldn’t talk about. What kinda secrets is he keeping from us?”

Xander gave a nervous cough. “Nothing much.”

“Other than he assaulted the eyes of a room full of men...”

“Spike!”

“Mooned them, he did. I wonder how many of them won’t ever get over the sight.”

“Spike... I promised!”

“Well I didn’t,” Spike turned innocent eyes to Buffy, grinning at her confused expression. “That’s right Slayer, he did a full Monty.”

“Giles... our Giles?” Dawn squealed, and started to ask questions over the others’ laughter when the front door opened.

“Giles. We were just talking about you.”

Xander gripped Spike’s arm, digging his fingers in as he hissed near his ear. “Shut up!”

The conspiratorial looks being exchanged had Giles giving Xander a stern look. Not that he’d expected him to be able to keep a secret to himself for long. But he couldn’t have been in the house for more than a half hour. He cleared his throat. “I’d like to introduce you to Joseph, Mantinek and Cronos.”

“Got yourself three warlocks for the price of one, did you?” Spike stood up and found himself a place to perch at the opposite end of the room, from where he could see all of them. He didn’t like the men, not one bit.

“Hi, I’m Xander. You must be the Men In Black coming to take me away,” he joked. Eeps, no sense of humor in those long unfriendly faces.

“Mr. Harris,” Cronos, the tallest of the three suited men gave a nod. “We understand you’re one of us, a late bloomer at that. There are some things we do need to teach you.”

“Oh goody, warlock school. Ugh, did I just say ‘goody’ in the same sentence as school?” Xander was aghast.

“Exactly. If you’ll come with us.”

“What? No....” Xander backed away from the stern faces, backed up into Spike.

“Where does he need to be? He can come by for his lessons tomorrow, yeah?”

“Actually Mr....”

“Spike.”

“Mr. Spike, it isn’t a day class sort of thing. He needs to come to the temple. We’ll give him all he needs, help him. Once he controls his power, he’ll be free to leave.”

“Free....” Xander cocked his head. “You mean I’m not so free before that?”

“Yeah. What’s going on Giles?” Buffy met the watcher’s gaze.

“Buffy, Xander. Calm down. From what I gather, late blooming Jagard warlocks can cause tremendous damage and must be under supervision during intense training until they can control their powers.”

“Spike’s right, we’ll just get him there everyday.”

“No, I’m not going ...”

Spike felt Xander’s arm go around his waist. “You heard the boy.”

“You don’t understand,” Cronos said. “It’s not a matter of choice. It is our way. He’ll learn, we’ll find what it is that grounds him, and he’ll be back. But until then, to keep society safe, as well as knowledge of our people a secret, he’ll have to come with us.”

Spike’s eyes flashed with danger. “Bugger off, or I’ll feed you your own arses.”

At the sound of Dawn’s indrawn breath, Giles ordered her to her room. Then went into diplomatic mode. “Let’s talk about this.”

Cronos and Joseph started to advance on Xander, starting off a chain of events.

Buffy crossed in front of them, blocking their way.

Spike shoved Xander behind him.

And Xander.... Xander’s eyes went wild with anger and terror at the prospect of going anywhere with the men. There was a low rumble. It grew louder, and louder. Until the ground started shaking under their feet.

Giles gripped the edge of a table. “You must calm yourself, Xander.”

Paintings fell off the wall, a light fixture fell to the ground, smashed into a thousand bits. The windows began to rattle so hard, the glass was in danger of shattering.

“We must take him now, before his power grows faster than his ability to control it.” Cronos moved on Xander.

“No... I’m not going, Spike tell them... I’m not going..”

“Buffy,” Giles warned, as he saw her siding with Spike and Xander. “They showed me evidence of whole cities being wiped out because one of theirs was not grounded and had a dream. It’s a dangerous business. I assure you, I performed a thorough check of the temple, he’ll be comfortable and safe... oh for God’s sake, look what is happening,” he said with a touch of impatience at the mulish look on her face and Spike’s. “Do you want him to be responsible for a catastrophe?”

A sofa sailed through the air, at Cronos. The warlock raised his hand, and forced it down to the ground. But other things started to get hurled about the room, smashing against the wall. “Not going, not going.” Xander’s heart raced as he thought of some mental ward type padded holding cell they’d keep him in.

Cronos raised his hand. “Enough. Come.”

An invisible force started to drag Xander toward the warlock. “No, no... Spike, you promised. You said you’d stay the first night. Spike....”

Feeling Xander claw at him, cling to him like a life boat, Spike’s throat constricted. He held on to the boy for as long as he could, but knew in the end he’d have to let him go and train. He’d seen how destructive or uncontrollable Xander’s dreams could be, on a grander scale, it might be as bad as they said.

“Spike please, Buffy? Spiiiike!”

One by one, Xander’s fingers loosened around the material of Spike’s shirt. He stumbled toward the strangers, his eyes filled with tears.

“Let me...” Spike had to clear his throat. “I’ll come with you. He trusts me, knows me.”

“It’s not our way. He needs to concentrate completely.” Turning, the three men headed for the door, with some sort of traction still pulling on Xander, forcing him to walk backwards behind them.

Gaze locked with Xander’s, Spike was only vaguely aware of the promises and whispered avowals of love by Buffy. He didn’t need to listen to Xander’s angry pleas, he could read his feelings. Dark soulful eyes, reproachful. Eyes that begged him for help. Eyes that damned him for his betrayal.

“Spike.” Buffy turned after the door closed.

But Spike was gone before Buffy could see the tears stinging his eyes.

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