I Ran
by Alexandria

“Did you get it?”

Xander just grinned and pressed a quick kiss to Spike’s cheek as he
breezed into the apartment. He started whistling as he tossed his coat
onto kitchen table, then started leafing through the mail.

“Hey, look, Spike, you got a credit card application. Addressed to Mrs.
Spike Harris.” Xander ducked just in time to miss the boot thrown at his
head. He deliberately turned his back to the vampire and made his way to
the refrigerator.

“Look you wanker, just tell me, did you get it or not?” Spike growled as
he stalked over to where Xander was leaning against the counter, drinking
from a bottle of water. He tried to ignore the way Xander was stroking
the bottle. Spike’s eyes narrowed, oh no, the whelp was not about to
distract him so easily. No, he wasn’t. Spike growled louder, trying to
get that message through to his groin.

“Well, it depends on what you mean by it.” Xander took another long drink
of water, swirling his tongue around the rim of the bottle meaningfully.
He heard the growling grow louder and rapidly reevaluated his plan.
Right, he liked this shirt and he didn’t want it being ripped off so he
better stop teasing his lover right now. Sighing wistfully, he set the
bottle down.

“Check out the front pocket.” He grinned as Spike practically bounced
over to where the backpack was lying inside the door.

“Cor,” Spike breathed out, “Do you have any idea what this is worth?” He
ran his fingers reverently over the item in his hands.

“Yup.” Xander wrapped his arms around Spike’s waist, then starting
dragging him back towards their bedroom. “C’mon, time to start getting
dressed.”

“Don’t you mean undressed, pet.” Spike carefully opened the backpack and
replaced the treasure.

“Well, can’t do one without the other.” Xander tossed over his shoulder
as the headed down the hall.

“There is no fucking way. Absofuckinglutely not.” Spike crossed his arms
over his chest, glaring down angrily.

“But, Spike,” Xander wheedled, batting his eyelashes relentlessly. “You
promised.”

“No, mate. What I promised was that I would go to this bloody stupid
party with you. What I promised was to help you pick out an outfit.” He
eyed Xander appreciatively. Yes, going for the Bruce Springsteen circa
Born In The U.S.A look was definitely the right decision. The jean
jacket, the bandanna, the white t-shirt showing off the firm chest, the
tight jeans. And the red hat stuck in the back pocket drawing all eyes to
what Spike had to admit was one of his favorite sights. Yes, he had
chosen well.

“But, Spike,” Xander upped the tremor in his voice while simultaneously
opening his eyes extra wide. “I thought we agreed that you would go in
costume too.” He let his mouth fall into a pout. There, it was working,
Spike was starting to shift slightly, trying to adjust to cope with the
swelling in those tight jeans. Spike could be so easy sometimes.

“Stop it, whelp. I know you’re doing it on purpose.” The vampire reached
over to the dresser and grabbed a cigarette, taking extra care in lighting
it. Damn it, Xander knew exactly what that look did to him. He blew a
stream of smoke at the ceiling. Damn the human. He decided to go on the
offensive.

“Thought your little gang always accused me of ripping off Billy Idol.
Well, tonight it’ll just be appropriate.” Spike’s voice was a low purr
that skittered up and down Xander’s spine. A grin crossed his face as he
saw Xander flush. Ah yes, two could play this game.

“Spike,” Xander shuddered out, then closed his eyes, picturing Angel
wearing a dress, strapless, no pantyhose, high heels, strand of pearls.
The image was so revolting it calmed him immediately. “Spike, for me.”

“No.” Spike stood firm, there was no way he was doing this. “There is no
bleedin’ way I’m doing this.”

Xander turned back to the bed and let out an unhappy sigh. “That’s fine.
I just thought you might want to do it for me.” He leaned down and pulled
a box out from under the bed, then sat down, looking up at Spike. He
trailed his fingers over the top of the box as he waited for the question
that was sure to come.

“Luv, what’s in the box?” Spike tried to act nonchalant, but he
recognized that box. His cock twitched in anticipation. The last time
Xander had opened a box that looked like that. . . His eye hazed over as
he let the image of Xander strapped to the bed with the gag ball lodged in
between those luscious lips overtake his mind.

Xander grinned, knowing exactly what Spike was thinking about. After all,
it was what he was thinking about too. He slowly opened the box, making
sure to crinkle the tissue paper inside as he did so. “Well, I figured if
you wouldn’t do it just because you love me, then I could bribe you.” He
took the lid off and handed the box to Spike.

Long fingers caressed the cold steel of the vibrator as Spike arched an
eyebrow at his lover. “Not quite enough for you, am I, pet?”

“Oh no, I just thought maybe I could you it on you while you were using
this,” Xander reached out and cupped Spike’s shaft through the denim of
the jeans, drinking in the hiss that came from the vampire, “on me. Or
maybe the other way around. Whichever. Your choice.” Xander suddenly
stood, using Spike’s distraction as his opportunity to yank the toy away.
“But only if you do this for me first. We only have to go and stay an
hour.”

“Right,” Spike purposefully moved to the bed and scooped up the clothes.
“Have to shower, work on the hair. You did get enough gel?”

Xander just handed him a bag as Spike pushed his way into the bathroom.
Xander settled back onto the bed, laughing quietly. That had been easy.
A smile curled on his lips. Good, that meant he could save the other
package for some other time.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” Spike groused, picking at the front of
his shirt.

Xander nodded, completely entranced. He reached up a tentative hand and
poked at Spike’s hair. He couldn’t believe it. Spike actually did it.
He looked just like that guy from Flock of Seagulls. How the hell did he
get his hair to do that? He touched the hair, finding it was just as hard
as it looked. “Oh wow, it’s all spikey. Your hair I mean, not you.
You’re Spikey all the time.”

Spike just rolled his eyes and grabbed Xander’s hand, pulling him out the
door. “C’mon Boss, sooner we’re there, the sooner we can leave.”

Xander grabbed his keys as he was yanked out the door. “Good plan,
Spike.”

Spike just nodded, making his determined way down the hall.

They looked around them in a slack jawed combination of horror and awe.
Ever since the posters for 80’s Night were first hung at the Bronze, they
had been looking forward to it. After all, it would be amusing to see
what everyone would be wearing. But this, this was something else.

“I’ve seen 27 Madonna’s, 14 Michael Jackson’s, 9 Bono’s in his ‘I’m too
serious to wash my hair’ phase,” Xander turned as someone bumped into him.
“And that makes 12 Boy George’s.”

“Definitely need to be more liquored up for this,” Spike muttered, trying
to ignore the stares coming his way. “Oh joy, you’re friends have found
us.”

“Spike,” Buffy gasped out, clutching her side as she laughed. “Okay, I
don’t even want to know what Xander had to do to get you to dress like
that.”

“Oh simple, pet. All he had to do was bend over and wiggle that tight
little arse of his and I’m putty in his hands.” Spike smirked at the
blush that went across Buffy’s face.

“Be good.” Xander tried to sound firm, but failed miserably. “See you
went for Madonna there Buffster.”

“I know, I know,” she held up a hand. “Obvious and done. But this way I
blend in.” She led them over to their table where Willow and Tara waited.

“Bloody hell,” Spike and Xander sighed out in unison, eyes raking over the
witches. They looked unbelievable, wearing matching tight black dresses,
hair slicked straight back from their faces. Dark, dark eye makeup and
red, red lipstick. They looked completely different. And amazingly hot.

“Christ, Red, where have you been keeping those?” Spike let out, staring
straight at Willow’s breasts. Xander just gaped, completely shocked.

Willow and Tara grinned at one another. “See, Tara, I told you coming as
Robert Palmer girls was a good idea.”

Xander pushed Spike onto a stool then settled onto his lap, Spike’s arms
automatically wrapping around his waist. “So, G-man here yet?” He felt
Spike grin into his back and he checked his pocket again. Yup, it was
still there.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes. Why?” Buffy asked as she took a quick
drink.

“Oh, no reason,” Xander couldn’t battle back his own grin. “Spike and I
just have something to ask him.”

Giles made his way through the people on the dance floor, sighing as he
did so. Why ever had he agreed to come to this place? It made him feel
even older than before. To think that the 80’s were now nostalgia. He
shook his head, mourning the fleeting nature of youth. He saw Willow
waving and made his way over to the table, chuckling at their outfits.

“Hello all, don’t you look,” Giles stopped, unable to come up with any
word to describe how they looked.

“Well hello, Giles, pull up a stool and sit a spell.” Xander wriggled a
little in anticipation, then stood, wanting Spike to have a clear view of
this.

Giles eyed them suspiciously. Whenever Xander and Spike looked that
pleased with themselves something surely was afoot. “Xander,” he sighed,
noting how matching smiles curled across the gleeful faces, “whatever are
you two planning? Not more mayhem I suppose.”

Xander pulled the picture out of his pocket, palming it in his hand as he
turned to look Giles in the eye. “No, Spike and I just have something to
show you.” He slapped the picture on the table, then leaned back, waiting
for the fireworks to begin.

Spike watched entranced as Giles turned red, then white, then red, then
white, mouth opening and closing rapidly. Oh, it was so sweet to finally
see the Watcher completely flustered.

“Where, where on earth did you find that?” Giles closed his eyes, waiting
for the questions to come. He supposed it was far too late to make a
break for the door.

“In that box you keep in the back of your closet. You really should get a
better lock for it.” Spike replied, never taking his eyes of the
Watcher’s face.

Buffy, Willow and Tara stared at the picture, shocked by what they saw.
It was Buffy who recovered her voice first.

“Giles, Giles, your clothes, your hair, your face. The makeup.” She
picked up the picture looking at it closely, recognizing the other people
in the photo. “Is that a guitar in your hands?”

Willow yanked the photo from Buffy as Giles let out a huge groan, dropping
his face into his hands.

“Wow, you look so, so different. I mean, I guess, I have all these
questions, but I’ll start with the most obvious. Just when did you go on
tour with Adam Ant?”

Giles just groaned louder as their laughter poured over him.