Dawn and Xander went to the video store, leaving the 'grievously injured'
Spike at the Summers' residence. The vampire prepared a mug of blood, using
the stash he kept in Dawn's mini-fridge, and logged onto her computer to
kill time until they returned. AOL was nice in that he could use his own
screen name and password at any computer that used the same Internet
provider, such as Dawn.

~cricket818: He touched me!

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Hello to you, too. And I take it you mean Xander.

~cricket818: :-) He touched me!

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: You're such a girl.

~cricket818: Yes, I know. But he actually touched me. A good touch.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: A 'good' touch? Lol.

~cricket818: I feel like I'm going to burst.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Don't you dare flog your pole while talking with
me.

~cricket818: Not *that* kind of bursting. Though I plan to do that later in
the Slayer's bed. Bad me.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: *rolls eyes*

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Wait, you're at Buffy's?

~cricket818: Yeah. Buffy's gone off to the mother-country, leaving Dawn
here. I'm spending the night.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: You mean you're sleeping over. You're such a girl.

~cricket818: Only you could call me that and live.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Now, details. Why did Xander Good Touch you?

~cricket818: He was comforting me after he almost killed me.

~cricket818: *sigh* It's so nice to be able to talk about this, after
keeping mum for so long.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: I repeat. Again. You are *such* a girl.

~cricket818: Cordelia.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: So tell: what did you do to make him try to kill
you this time?

~cricket818: Nothing. He fed me garlic-laced pizza on purpose.

~cricket818: I'm in love.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Vampires are so weird.

~cricket818: You're just realizing this now?

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: No. I realized it when Angel came wandering
through the lobby wearing floral Bermuda shorts and flip-flips. He was
going 'moonbathing.' I called in sick the next day.

Spike laughed out loud. The image of his uptight pseudo-sire wearing floral
anything was hilarious. And moonbathing??!

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: jhn mhfas;

~cricket818: What?

Cordelia didn't reply, and after two minutes of no response, Spike became
worried. His hand itched to pick up the phone and call to see if she was
okay. If she'd had a vision, it would explain her silence. But waiting had
never been his strong suit.

"We're back," Xander announced unnecessarily as he walked into the bedroom.
"Dawn wants to know if you want popcorn."

"No," Spike replied, tapping his finger nervously on the mouse. He didn't
remove his eyes from the screen, not even when Xander came to look over his
shoulder.

"You know how to use a computer?" Xander said, astonished.

"I'm not a moron, Harris." Spike silently sighed in relief when a message
appeared in the AIM window.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Sorry. Vision. Mucho ow-o.

~cricket818: Harris and the twerp are back and looking over my shoulder.

~angeldoesntpaymeenough: Got it. I have to go anyway. Bye.

~cricket818: Bye.

"Cricket?" Xander snickered in Spike's ear, sending shivers down his spine,
as the vampire logged off. "Your screen name is 'cricket'?"

"It's Dawn's," Spike lied.

"Huh-uh. Hers is 'dead butterflies,'" Xander said. "And Buffy's is 'world
saving fool,' so don't even try and lie again."

Spike spun on his seat and looked up at Xander. He was very close. Quiver,
quiver. The vampire affected a bland expression, and explained, "You caught
me. I'm 'cricket.'"

Xander laughed derisively. "How did you chose *that* name?"

"From a book," Spike said, sounding affronted. "'A Cricket in Times
Square.' It's about a cricket who can play symphonies with his back legs,
and everyone thinks he's the bloody shit. He lets his fame go to his head,
then gets knocked down a peg or three and learns about what's really
important. Kind of metaphorical, don't you think?"

Xander looked adorable when he was befuddled. "Are you serious?"

Spike shrugged. "Could also be because a cricket hopped on my bed while I
was choosing my screen name."

Xander blinked several times as his brain caught on to what he'd heard.
Then he started to laugh again, a deep, rich sound of genuine mirth.
"Spike, you never cease to boggle my mind."

Spike's heart fluttered and he grinned dopily. Cordelia was right: he was
such a girl.

*****

The phone rang partway through the movie that had been rented. Dawn
purposely kicked Spike in the head as she went to answer it, calling a
sickeningly sweet, "Sorry," over her shoulder.

"I can't believe how much you let her get away with," Xander commented from
his seat on the couch. "If I did that, you'd try to rip my foot off before
the chip zapped you."

Spike craned his neck to look back at Xander. "She's my friend. You're not.
See the difference?"

The brunette's brows shot up to his hairline, but before he could say
anything Dawn returned with the portable phone in her hand. "Spike, Angel
wants to talk to you," she said.

Frowning, Spike rolled to his feet and took the proffered phone. "What's
up, Pops?" he said into the receiver as he started out of the living room.

"Will you not call me that?" Angel said exasperatedly over the line.

Spike could picture Angel's irritated expression and the blond grinned.
Getting under his sire's skin was one of the few simple pleasures in life.
"Not a chance."

Angel sighed, then got right to the point. "Can you come up here and
translate for us? Cordelia had a vision, and she wrote out something in
Irushk."

"That the vision she had earlier this evening?" Spike inquired, already
putting his battered Docs on. His sire only requested assistance if it was
really needed, and Spike had made a silent promise to help when asked after
Angel had tried to remove the behavior modification chip. The operation
hadn't worked, but the fact that Angel had tried meant more to Spike than
the other vampire would ever know.

"Yes." Angel sounded surprised. "How did you know?"

"I was on AIM with her when she had it," the blond replied. "I assumed
that's why you knew I was here."

"No, but that answers a different question," Angel said.

"Right." Spike stood and walked into the kitchen. "I'll be there in a
couple hours."

"Thanks," Angel said, then disconnected.

Spike put the phone in its cradle, then headed back to the living room. His
opened his mouth to tell them he was leaving, and saw a flash of
disappointment and sadness fly across Dawn's face before the mask of cool
indifference returned. Mentally calling himself all sorts of synonyms for
"soft," he said, "Anyone up for a trip to L.A.?"

Dawn bounced to her feet before he'd finished the sentence. "I'll get our
stuff."

Spike shook his head as he watched her disappear up the stairs. He turned
back to Xander, and a stupidly brilliant idea formed in his mind. "Well,
Mr. Babysitter, would you like to come, too?"

Surprise lit Xander's features. "To L.A.?"

"No, to Mars."

"Right. Stupid me." Xander rubbed his palms on his thighs. "I have no
problems with going, but Anya has to stay and run The Magick Box."

"I didn't invite Anya, Xander," Spike said pointedly. "I invited you."

"I don't know," Xander hemmed. "I'll have to call An-"

Spike held up his hand, interrupting, "Forget it, Harris. I should've known
the leash only went so far."

It was nice to know humans could be so predictable. Xander shot to his
feet, scowl on his boyishly handsome face. "I am *not* on a leash," he
stated. "I can go where I want, when I want, and I'm coming with to L.A."

With an emphatic nod, he stomped past Spike and up the stairs. Spike waited
until the boy was out of sight, then smiled gleefully. This was perfect.
He'd have Xander away from Sunnydale and its trappings, including the
ex-demon cow, for at least an entire night and day, during which time he'd
do... absolutely nothing, because he was a big chicken with bleached
feathers. But, Xander would witness him performing Good Deeds, which might
make the brunette start to think differently about him, eventually resulting
in great sex. Spike was all for anything that resulted in great sex with
Xander.

Xander and Dawn came downstairs one right after the other. Spike took his
duffle from Dawn and grabbed his duster from the coatrack. "Everyone set?"
Nods all around. "Then we're off."

Part Three  

Spike and Dawn were friends. Real friends. The type of friends Xander used
to be with Willow and Buffy before adulthood and significant others
intruded.

Xander was both amazed and confounded by their friendship. Buffy complained
about Spike hanging around, but not often enough to connect the vampire,
friendship, and Dawn. Xander was probably the only one who didn't ignore
Spike at Scooby meetings, but since Dawn rarely helped with Slayer business,
Xander also didn't have an opportunity to observe Spike and her together and
see how strong their relationship really was.

Xander lightly touched his black eye. Their relationship was *definitely*
strong.

"We're here," Spike announced, parking the musty-smelling DeSoto in the lot
outside the Hyperion.

Xander heard gossip from Willow about Angel's hotel, but he'd never visited
before. Trying not to gape, he followed Dawn and Spike through a side
entrance, past a courtyard fountain, and into the hotel.

The lobby was huge, fancy, and made Xander feel grungy in his wrinkled tan
Dockers and faded green bowling shirt. His gym shoes squeaked on the black
and white checked tile floor. Everything looked expensive and shiny, and he
was immediately afraid to touch anything. He clutched his duffle to his
chest as he continued to stare goggle-eyed at the hotel's magnificence.

"Spike, you're here!" There was a high-pitched girl-squeal, which made
Xander's ears pop, and he watched as Spike dropped his bag to the ground
before catching a tall, brunette beauty in a hug.

"Hello, gorgeous," Spike drawled, releasing Cordelia. He looked her up and
down. "You look smashing, as always."

"I do, don't I." Cordelia smiled widely, leaned in, and pecked him on the
lips. "Missed you."

"Same here." Spike smiled softly in return, then gestured behind him.
"Look who I brought."

"Dawn!" Cordelia bounced past Spike and gave Dawn a hug, too. "Hey, slut."

"Hey, whore," Dawn said, returning the hug. "What's the what?"

"The usual: visions, big demons, never-ending games of Monopoly." Cordelia
turned to Xander, who was staring at her like she'd grown a second head, and
gave him a mysterious smile. "Hi, Xander. Nice eye."

"Uh, yeah." Xander warily half-smiled in return. "Hi."

Cordelia looked good. Her hair was cut in a flattering bob, streaked blond.
She was dressed causally in navy tap pants and a navy buttoned vest which
showed off quite a bit of tanned flesh. If Xander hadn't dated her in the
past, he'd be slobbering. As it was, Little Xander was stirring in his
Dockers, and he changed his hold on his duffle to cover his reaction.

"Where's this thing I'm supposed to translate?" Spike asked, tossing his
duster onto the curved registration counter.

"Over here." Cordelia walked to Spike, took his hand, and examined it as
she led him around the counter to where two desks sat. "You're nails are
smudged," she tisked. "We'll have to fix that. I have a Berry Blue that'll
look great." She stopped him before he spoke. "I know. Later. It's
always work first with you, killjoy."

"I'm going to take our bags to our rooms," Dawn said, picking up Spike's
duffle from the floor and heading for the red-carpeted stairs.

Xander just stood there uncomfortably, wondering when *he* became the
odd-man-out. Spike wasn't supposed to be welcomed with kisses from
Cordelia, or be hugged, or told he was missed. They weren't supposed to be
chattering like close friends. Spike was the enemy, wasn't he? Neutered,
but still the bad guy, who occasionally helped for money.

Xander crept closer to the counter in order to eavesdrop better. Cordelia
had her hand on Spike's back, and they were both leaning over the desk,
looking at a yellow and spotted brown legal pad. They seemed very
comfy-cozy with each other, and Xander felt a spark of jealousy. Though,
jealous of what? Cordelia? Spike? Their obvious closeness?

"Is this coffee?" Spike picked up the pad and angled it to the desk light.

"My bad," Cordelia admitted, "but Angel's fault."

"Where is the froofy one, anyway?" Spike frowned as he studied the writing
on the paper.

"He and Wes are changing." Cordelia turned and leaned against the desk.
"When I spewed my coffee, it was right at Gloom and Doom, after I read
Angel's translation."

Spike looked at her, one brow climbing up, but said nothing. Cordelia
smirked, turned the page on the legal pad in his hand, then folded her arms
and waited.

Xander wasn't sure if he liked the whole silent communication thing they had
going. Or that they were ignoring him. He opened his mouth to whine like a
puppy, but Spike's sudden laughter caused him to gape instead. He'd never
heard such a genuine sound of amusement coming from Spike, nor had he ever
seen the vampire cry tears of laughter.

Spike was bent over, clutching his stomach, his guffaws echoing in the
lobby. Cordelia had the giggles, too, though not as bad. Apparently,
whatever was written on the legal pad was something damn funny.

"Hey, um, can I see, too?" Xander asked awkwardly. "Or is it one of those
private, inside jokes that I'm very much outside of?"

Spike sputtered and made grand, meaningless gestures as he tried to speak.
"Angel... < snicker >... transheee... < snort >..."

Cordelia grabbed the legal pad, cleared her throat, and read over Spike's
squeaky noises.

"Poor old Robinson Crusoe!
He had no woman to screw, so
He'd sit on a rock
And play with his cock
(Or he'd get his man Friday to do so.)"

Xander blinked several times. Oookay. "Aside from the obvious, why is
this so funny?"

"That's what Angel said the passage translated to."

"Right." Angel made a joke. Ha-ha. Guess he had to be there, or know
Angel better to get it. Apparently, Spike knew Angel very well.

"I take it you showed Spike my translation."

Xander turned to see Angel coming down the stairs, with Wesley beside him.
They looked the same as Xander remembered, though the smile on Angel's face
was new. Since when did Angel smile? No one else thought that Angel's smile
was ususal, though, it seemed. Nor did anyone but Xander freak when Angel
embraced Giggly Spike and dropped a kiss on the blond's forehead.

"Thanks for coming," Angel said, releasing Spike. He looked over at Xander.
"Harris. Good to see you again."

"Dea... Angel," Xander corrected. He was a guest in the man's home, the
least he could do was call Angel by name. "Hi, Wesley."

"Mr. Harris," Wesley greeted, offering Xander his hand. "Dawn said you had
accompanied them. I'm glad to see you survived the trip." He shook
Xander's hand, leaned closer, and whispered conspiratorially, "It's hard
enough traveling with Spike alone, but with the two of them..."

"I heard that, Wes," Spike commented.

Wesley winked at Xander, released his hand, and walked over to join Angel
and Spike at the desk. The coffee-stained yellow legal pad was positioned
between them so they could all see. They began speaking to one another with
an easy comradery, one that the Scooby Gang barely had anymore, and no one
laughed when Spike took out a pair of gold wire-rim glasses, with small
square lenses and curved ear pieces, and hooked them over his ears.

It hit Xander then, the reason everything seemed so odd: Spike *belonged*
here. His presence wasn't just tolerated. He wasn't just being used for
his fighting ability. He wasn't just being pumped for his knowledge, even
though that's why he'd been called. Xander had a feeling Spike would've
been welcome if he was as dumb as a box of rocks - something Xander had
erroneously assumed until now. If Spike hadn't been arguing in another
language with Wesley, the glasses would've proved how wrong Xander was.

"Work, work, work. Spike is such a bore when there's research to be done."
Cordelia sighed and leaned on her elbows on the registration counter next to
Xander. "But he's quite the hottie with those glasses, isn't he?"

"I was thinking more like dorky," Xander said, wondering what she meant by
her first comment. He set his duffle bag on the floor near his feet and
leaned on the counter like Cordelia. "I didn't even know he wore glasses."

"Like he'd wear them around Buffy and company." Cordelia snorted. "Can you
tell me you or the others wouldn't have made fun of him every time he put
them on?"

Xander was chagrined, because he knew he would've made fun of Spike in a
second. The only thing preventing him now was, he was the outsider and
Spike was most definitely not. Time to change the subject. "What did you
mean, Spike's a bore when there's research? He usually helps out fine for a
little while before he gets annoyed and impatient, then leaves."

"He probably gets annoyed and impatient because his eyes and head hurts from
not wearing his glasses," Cordelia said, studying Xander with a curious
expression on her face. "When he's here helping us, he refuses to take a
break until we kill or stop whatever Evil Ugly we're after. Which is no fun
for me, because sometimes he has to turn around and head back to Sunnydale
immediately post-victory, and I don't get a chance to really visit with
him."

"You guys are close, huh?" Xander said, frowning when he saw Angel put his
arm around Spike's waist.

"Extremely," Cordelia replied. "I'd snatch him up in a second if I could.
But Spike's in love with you, you know."

Xander's gaze whipped to Cordelia. "*What*?"

A small smile played and her lips and her eyes were twinkling. Xander
slumped in relief. She was joking. "Not funny, Cordelia."

"You look like someone killed your dog." Cordelia propped her chin on her
fist. "Would it be that awful if Spike was in love with you?"

"Yes," Xander stated firmly.

"Why?"

"Why?" Xander frowned at her. "Because he's Spike. Isn't that a good
enough reason?"

"Isn't that the best reason *to* love him?" Cordelia said softly.

Xander's frown deepened and he looked back at Spike. The blond was leaning
over the desk, reading the page of legal paper while being poked by Angel.

"Angel, stop poking... ach!" Spike glared at Angel, with his hands on his
hips and his glasses askew. His hair was sticking out every which way,
because Angel had unceremoniously stripped off the blond's tee. "What the
fuck did you do that for?"

"Look at you, you're too skinny." Angel dropped Spike's shirt on the desk
and started to poke at the other vampire's ribs. "Have you been feeding?"

"Angel, I'm trying to translate this for you." Spike hugged his arms around
himself self-consciously. "Stop being a father hen."

"Spike," Angel said patiently. "Have you been feeding properly?"

Spike's eyes flicked to Xander's before he turned to face the desk, grabbing
his shirt. "I'm fine, Dad," he replied exasperatedly. "Money's been tight
since I last saw you, s'all."

"Spike, that was months ago!" Angel exclaimed, worriedly reaching out to
touch the blond again.

Spike flinched away and lowered his voice, but not enough that Xander
couldn't hear. "Quit it. Not now, okay?"

"Why not now?" Angel swung his arm, encompassing the room. "We're all fami-
oh," he stopped abruptly, staring point blank at Xander. Then he turned on
his heel and stalked from the lobby. "I'll go get you something to eat."

"There's a, ah, book I need," Wesley said, hurrying out of the room.

"I'm going to go check on Dawn," Cordelia announced. She shot Xander a
blinding smile, then headed up the stairs, leaving Xander and Spike alone.

After too long of an uncomfortable silence where the only sounds came from
Spike putting his shirt back on, Xander couldn't take anymore. "Angel's not
wrong, you know. You're an anorexic's dream."

"Well, you lot haven't been needing my assistance much of late, so...,"
Spike trailed off with a shrug.

"You could've said something," Xander said, coming around the counter.

"Why? So you could get your jollies poking fun at me?" Spike said, not with
malice, but as if it were fact and he accepted it. "Poor ol' impotent
Spike, can't even feed himself. Serves me right, eh, Harris?"

"You're right," Xander said, stopping in front of the blond. "I would've
given you a hard time." He caught Spike's arm when the vampire turned away.
"But I would have made sure you were fed, Spike."

Spike was quiet for a long time, his penetrating blue eyes focused squarely
on Xander. Finally, he said, "Yeah, sure, Harris, thanks for the lie.
Makes me feel all tingly."

Xander dropped Spike's arm and lifted his chin in anger. "It's not a lie."

Spike snorted. "Get off it, whelp. Until tonight, you haven't cared one
whit for my welfare."

"I have to ca-" Xander automatically began to protest, then cut himself off
short. What Spike said was the truth, Xander couldn't deny it.

Spike chuckled, but again it was with acceptance, not bitterness or
resentment. "Don't worry about it, mate. I don't expect you to care about
me like you do your chums."

For some reason, Spike's statement bothered Xander. A lot.

Part Four  

"I'm bored. I'm going to go kill something," Angel stated, pulling a
double-headed axe from a file cabinet drawer. He twirled it in his hand and
looked over at the two men sitting side-by-side at one of the desks.
"Anyone want to come with?"

Spike and Wesley had been working non-stop on the translation for three
solid hours, and Angel had been a pest for two of them until he'd been
banished from the lobby. Xander had been highly amused when Angel had
disappeared upstairs like a dog with his tail between his legs.

Soon after Xander and Spike had talked, Angel had returned with a large mug
of blood and practically forced it down Spike's throat, all the while
glaring at Xander. Wesley had returned, too, book in hand and ready to
work, ending any further conversation between Spike and Xander. Cordelia,
though, had not come back, and neither had Dawn.

Xander sat cross-legged on the registration counter, as quiet as a mouse.
He was fascinated, unable to take his eyes off of Spike. He'd never seen
Spike work so studiously before, or look so comfortable in the role of
researcher, or seem so comfortable with those around him. If Xander hadn't
been with Spike in the same room the entire time, he'd wonder where the pod
was hidden.

"I could use a break," Wesley said to Angel, rising from his seat.

"Spike?" Angel inquired.

"Nah, you go ahead," Spike said distractedly, scribbling something on a
second legal pad. "I'm going... to... hmm.... that's not right..."

Xander's lips curled up at how Gilesean Spike sounded, the glasses perched
on the end of his nose only adding to the resemblance.

Angel turned to Xander, frowned, and offered reluctantly, "Harris?"

"No," Xander waved Angel away. "I think I'll stay injury-free, thanks."

Angel's frown deepened. "Don't bother Spike," he warned, spinning the
fighting axe in his hand. "Let's go, Wes."

After Angel and Wesley left, Xander continued to observe the new Spike.
Well, new to Xander, at least. He had a feeling that this Spike was
considered 'normal' by the L.A. residents and Dawn.

Spike tossed the pen on the desk, leaned back in his chair, popped up his
glasses, and rubbed his eyes. It was such a benign action, one Xander saw
Giles do when he was frustrated or tired, but seeing Spike do it caused a
bubble of laughter to escape.

The blond vampire glanced at Xander over the rims of his glasses, scarred
brow raised. "Want to share, mate?"

Xander shook his head and hopped off the counter. "It's nothing," he said,
walking over to the desk. He motioned to the books and papers spread across
the surface. "Are you guys making any progress?"

"Yes and no," Spike admitted, although warily. "I know what it says in
general, but not exactly."

"If you know what it says, why are you still working on it?" Xander asked,
confused. Research had never been his strong point. Actually, he had no
strong points when it came to World Savage; he just had big balls.

"Because it reads like a prophecy, and not a simple 'help me, help me'
message," Spike replied, complete with a falsetto distress cry. He sighed
and leaned forward again, studying the coffee- stained legal pad. "The
problem with prophecies is, one wrong gerundive can change the whole soddin'
meaning of the text."

Xander slid onto the chair Wesley had vacated. "I was under the impression
that you and Wesley spoke Ishtar."

"Irushk, Xander. 'Ishtar' is a horrid B-movie, starring Dustin Hoffman and
Warren Beatty," Spike said, chuckling. "I speak the language fluently, and
Wes has a passable knowledge of it, but neither of us reads it very well.
And like I said, prophecies are very precise."

"I take it Angel doesn't know Irushk," Xander surmised, looking at the
squiggles on the legal pad.

"He knows a handful of words, enough to get a drink and a whore," Spike said
with an openly affectionate smile. "Which is why his 'translation' was such
a bleedin' gas. Five'll get you ten, he was acting all serious-like when he
read it."

"Because Angel's such the joker," Xander said dryly.

"There's a lot about Angel you don't know, pet." Spike's voice was soft,
serious. "Just like there's a lot you don't know about me."

Xander turned to Spike and studied him briefly, before admitting, "I'm
beginning to see that."

Spike looked away suddenly, and cleared his throat. He began to straighten
the papers and books on the desk with intense concentration. Xander almost
laughed again. He'd flustered Spike!

"If there's nothing else on that pea brain of yours, Harris, I do have to
get back to work," Spike said, a bit growly.

"Let me help," Xander said, suddenly desiring to prove he had more in his
head than a tiny vegetable. "I'm tired of sitting on my ass, doing
nothing."

"But you do it so well." Spike smirked at him.

"C'mon, I'm serious," Xander said. "I want to help."

The blond tilted his head to one side and he assessed Xander's sincerity,
the he nodded decisively. "All right," he said. "I assume you don't know
any Irushk."

"Not a peep."

"Then we'll look at this like a pictogram," Spike said. He tapped the page
of squiggles. "Each of these symbols is a letter, the letters are grouped
together to form words, and the spaces in between separate those words."

"So this one, this one, and this one are all the same word?" Xander asked,
pointing to three places on the page.

Spike looked at Xander, impressed. "Maybe I was mistaken about your brain
size. Good going."

Spike was complementing Xander. Normally, the idea that the vampire would
pay Xander a compliment was not only laughable, but Xander wouldn't have
believed that what came out of Spike's mouth was sincere. Now, though,
after getting to see what Xander suspected was the "real" Spike, the
brunette had no doubt that Spike's complement was just that: a complement.

Xander flushed, pleased and slightly embarrassed that something so simple
could make him feel so happy. "Um, so what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"The same thing you'd do with a pictogram." Spike handed him a pen and a
fresh pad of paper. "Make words out of the symbols."

"This translates directly into English?"

Spike laughed lightly. "Not sensible words, no. Phonetically, however..."

"Got it." Xander pointed to one of the three matching words on the page.
"Tell me what this says in Irushk."

"Wingilong," Spike read.

Xander wrote what he heard on his scratch paper, then pointed to another
group of symbols that were repeated multiple times on the page. "And this?"

"Hingee."

"And this?"

"Ohfong." "T'hingee." "Ay'."

Armed with a lot of nothing, Xander got busy. He scratched and scribbled,
erased and nibbled on the eraser, and asked Spike to translate other symbols
at times. Every so often, the brunette felt Spike's eyes on him, but when
he looked up the vampire was hard at work.

At some point, Spike left and returned with coffee, which Xander drank
without tasting as he continued to make nonsense words from symbols.

Xander reached for the cup without looking, and his hand closed over rough,
cool skin instead of Styrofoam. He raised his eyes and saw that he and
Spike had reached for the same cup of coffee simultaneously.

Turning his head, he met Spike's gaze, and the comment on his lips died at
what he saw reflected in the vampire's sky blue eyes. Hope. Hunger.
Longing. The impressions were fleeting, then a mask abruptly descended and
all Xander could see reflected was himself.

"Hands off my coffee, kid," Spike said.

Xander quickly pulled his hand back. "I've had too much anyway." Way too
much, to be seeing what he had in the blond's eyes.

Spike sipped the coffee, made a face, and set it aside. He gestured towards
the pad in front of Xander. "How goes it?"

"I have almost all of them, I think." Xander passed the pad with a
half-shrug. "I don't know how accurate it is, considering it's jibberish."

"If it was Jibberish, there's be more 'rishini'," Spike said solemnly.

"Hold on, hold on," Xander said. "There's a language called 'Jibberish?'"

"Of course."

Xander gaped at the vampire. "No way. You're lying."

Spike winked over the rims of his glasses. "Maybe."

Xander scowled, and Spike laughed before turning his attention to the
brunette's work. He grew very still as he read, and Xander shifted
uncomfortably. It was useless crap, Xander knew it, and Spike just didn't
want to hurt his feelings.

Wait a minute, Spike not wanting to hurt Xander's feelings? In what reality
was Xander living?

"Bugger all, Xander." Spike straightened and darted glances between the
original and Xander's 'translation.' The vampire added a few words to
Xander's page, then slumped in his chair. "Un- fucking-believable. If we
would've asked for your help to begin with, I would've had a new coat of
polish on my nails by now."

"Er... is that good?" Xander asked tentatively.

"Is what good?"

Xander jumped, startled, and spun on his seat. Angel and Wesley had sneaked
in without him hearing, both covered in brown slime but looking quite
cheerful. Kind of like Buffy after a good slay, Xander noted.

"Harris here translated the bloody prophecy," Spike answered.

"Really?" Wesley hurried over to the desk. "What does it say?"

Spike lifted the legal pad and read, "In English, it says:

When ice falls from a cloudless sky
and an Angel's eye forms in the heavens
The one which is three:
the hunter, the predatory, the prey,
will come forth.
He will join with a demon of hell
but a heart of light.
He will have the power of the gods
and so beings the first days of the Apocalypse."

When Spike was done, Angel gave Xander a suspicious look. "I didn't know you
knew Irushk."

"I, uh, don't." Xander glanced at Spike. "Cricket here told me to treat
the squiggles like a pictogram puzzle, so I did."

"Who?"

Xander grinned, glad to have the attention directed away from himself. He'd
wanted to be seen as worthy, but now that it happened it was downright
embarrassing. "Cricket," he repeated, pointing at Spike.

Angel turned to the other vampire with an upraised brow. "Cricket?"

"Grr," Spike said to Xander, with vast humiliation and little threat.

Xander batted his lashes and blew a kiss. Spike suddenly froze, staring at
Xander over the rims of his glasses. Then he dropped his chin and smiled
somewhat bashfully.

Angel looked at Spike, looked at Xander, then looked back at Spike. He
groaned audibly and covered his face with his slimy hands. "I was *not*
evil enough to deserve this."

Part Five  

"Cordelia." Spike tossed his duster onto a chair in his room, which was on
the second floor of the Hyperion. He closed the suite door behind him.
"What're you doing in here? I was going to change, then join you and Dawn."

"Dawn crashed," Cordelia replied. She was leaning against the headboard of
the bed, paging through a magazine, her nail kit on the night-stand beside
her. "We're going shopping tomorrow."

The blond vampire shucked his boots, socks, and jeans, and crawled onto the
bed with her. He pillowed his head on his arms and shot her a dopey,
sideways grin. "Xander called me 'Cricket.' It's his new pet name for me."

"He should've called you 'Pathetic,'" Cordelia told him with an amused
smile.

"Yeah," Spike sighed happily.

"How that boy can't see that you're head over heels for him is beyond me,"
Cordelia said. "Even if you hadn't told me, it's so obvious."

"That's easy, luv." Spike turned on his side and propped his head on his
hand. "One, Harris is oblivious to the idea that another bloke would fancy
him, especially if that bloke is me."

"And two?" she prompted.

"And two," Spike continued, "this is really the first time he and I have
been in the same place since I realized I loved the tosser." He dropped his
gaze and plucked at the comforter. "I've followed him around some after
dark, but the need for my help has been very little, of late."

"No brooding," Cordelia scolded, exchanging her magazine for the nail kit.
"Tell me instead your plan for winning his heart."

"Ignore him, mainly." Spike squirmed at the look she gave him. "What do
you expect me to do? I'm done with the translation, which means we're
probably leaving tomorrow... er," he glanced at the clock on the night-stand
behind Cordelia, "...later tonight. Once we get back to Sunnydale, Dawn
will want to see her other friends and I won't have an excuse to hang
around."

"Dawn not being there is the perfect excuse *for* hanging around," Cordelia
said. She wet a pad with nail-polish remover, took his hand, and started on
his nails. "Ask Xander if he wants to catch a movie or something."

Spike stared at her in horror. "You mean, ask him on a date?"

"Saturday night *is* prime date night," Cordelia said pointedly.

The blond swallowed the knot of fear in his throat, and whispered nervously,
"I don't think I could do that."

"The worst Xander could do is say no," she told him gently.

"No, the worst he could do is laugh in my face, or perhaps give me a right
good kicking," Spike corrected. He shook his head. "I'd rather have a love
that's unrequited than rejected."

"'Nothing ventured, nothing gained.'"

"'Once a fool, always a fool,'" Spike quoted back. He made a disgusted
noise. "Enough talk about my being chicken shit. Dish me on Dad's love
life."

Cordelia snorted. "What love life? You two are probably the sexiest guys
on the planet, and you're in love with another male, and Angel doesn't think
he deserves to have a relationship so he avoids women like the plague."
Cordelia glanced up from painting Berry Blue polish on his nails. "Can
vampires get the plague?"

A knock on the door underlined Spike's answer in the negative.

*****

"It's open!"

Xander wiped his surprisingly damp palms on his Dockers before grabbing the
doorknob to Spike's room and giving it a twist. The vampire had disappeared
soon after he'd given Xander that strangely bashful grin, and Xander had
been shown to a room by Angel shortly thereafter. It was extremely late.
Or early, depending on point of view. It didn't really matter, he still
shouldn't be visiting Spike at this hour, especially since it was very
possible that the vampire desired Xander for more than just a friendly game
of checkers.

But that was the question motivating Xander to knock at the vampire's door
at an odd hour of the morning. He wanted to know if Spike was into him, or
hungered to be *in* him. Xander clenched his buttocks at the thought and
suppressed the urge to run away. No one but doctors were allowed in there,
and that was only if the brunette couldn't get out of the exam.

Then why was he standing outside of Spike's room?, an evil little voice
chirped in the back of Xander's mind. "Because I need to tell Spike there's
no way in hell I'd bend over for him," the brunette replied aloud.

Nodding in decisiveness, he threw open the hotel suite door, walked
purposefully inside, and pulled up short. "Oh, uh... s-sorry," he
stammered. Cordelia was in Spike's bed and, while she was fully dressed,
Spike was only wearing a tee-shirt and underwear. "I didn't mean to
interrupt..."

Wait, Spike was wearing underwear?

Xander checked again. Yep. Underwear. White Fruit-of-the-Looms, if his
identification skills were accurate. He snickered. "I never pegged you for
the tighty-whitey type, Cricket."

"What?" Spike said, confused.

Cordelia, however, tittered. "He's referring to your choice of underwear,
Spike."

Xander hadn't known vampires could turn that color. He laughed as Spike
scrambled to cover himself, earning squawks of protest from Cordelia.
"Spike, your nails!"

The brunette was practically on the floor, he was laughing so hard. "Looks
like... I interrupted... another... Girls Night In...," he gasped between
riotous chuckles.

"Sod off." Spike was pouting, and blushing furiously, and had twin streaks
of bright blue slashing his jaw.

Xander felt something tighten in his chest... which he quickly blamed on
lack of oxygen. His laughter trickled off, and he smiled teasingly. "I
can't wait to tell Buffy and the others about this."

Horrified, wide blue eyes turned on Xander. "You wouldn't."

Xander chuckled evilly. "Wanna bet?"

Spike pulled the comforter over his head, and a muffled choking sound could
be heard. Cordelia winked at Xander, then patted the bed. "Come join us.
I'll do your nails, too." She swatted the lump beside her. "After I fix
Spike's."

A smudged-nail-polished hand emerged from under the covers and pointed in
Xander's direction. "His fault! Hit him, not me!"

Xander took Cordelia's invitation only because he had the sudden need to sit
down. Spike was acting... cute. Silly. And he was wearing white
Fruit-of-the-Looms.

Cordelia grabbed Spike's hand and examined the fingernails. She sighed
disgustedly. "Great. We have to start over from scratch.

More of Spike emerged from under the covers as he sat up, and the ruffled,
still pink-cheeked blond stared balefully at Xander. "You're mean," he
stated childishly and stuck out his tongue.

"Don't stick out your tongue if you don't plan on using it," Xander said
automatically. Then *he* turned a pretty shade of pink.

"Do you two want me to leave?" Cordelia asked with a smirk.

"NO!" Spike and Xander exclaimed simultaneously and with equal alarm. Then
they looked at each other and, again simultaneously, called, "Jinx!"

Both grown men snapped their mouths shut and looked hopefully at Cordelia.
Neither was allowed to speak until someone said their name, according to the
Jinx-game rules. Cordelia chuckled. "Not a chance. You'll both just have
to stay silent until I'm done with your nails." She raised her Berry Blue
nailbrush. "Who's first?"

Part Six  

Spike sighed softly, causing Angel to look down at him. It was Saturday
afternoon, and the two vampires were in the courtyard, the hotel's shadow
allowing them to enjoy the clear day without fear. Spike was stretched out
on a stone bench, his blond head resting on Angel's thigh. The older man
was taking a break from researching the prophecy's meaning, and Spike had
joined him in the courtyard. It had been many moons since the blond had
visited L.A., and Angel was happy for the company. He had missed Spike
greatly.

"What's that sigh for?" Angel asked. Spike's eyes reflected the cloudless
sky, making his irises ten times more blue than usual. The brunette carded
his fingers through Spike's ungelled hair, waiting patiently for an answer.

Spike somewhat shrugged. "Just enjoying the day, s'all."

"You're not thinking about Xander?" Angel smirked at Spike's startled
expression. "I know you're in love with him, Spike. Heck, a blind man
could see that."

The younger vampire shifted slightly. "You don't think Xander knows, do
you?"

"I said a blind man could see it, not a dumb one."

"Xander's not dumb," Spike scowled. "Take it back."

Angel's smile grew more amused. "Very well. Xander's not dumb, he's just
an idiot."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I'll let that one slide, seeing as it's true."

The older vampire twined a white-blond lock of hair around his finger.
"Will you ever tell him?"

"No," Spike replied firmly. "At least right now I can keep an eye on him at
night. It would be impossible to protect him if I was laughed out of
Sunnydale, or worse: staked."

"You don't think Buffy would come after you simply because you're in love
with Xander?" Angel said.

"She might if she thought I had some sort of nefarious scheme going," he
replied.

"Do you?"

"Of course I do." Spike grinned cheekily. "Only it involves auctioning off
the Slayer's knickers to the highest demon bidder."

Angel tugged hard on the lock of hair between his fingers. Spike laughed.
"Seriously," the younger vampire said. "I don't have any evil plans going.
I just love the moron."

"Well, if things don't work out, remember you can always come home," Angel
said.

"Home, huh?" Spike studied the other vampire a moment. "Is that what this
place is?"

"For you, hopefully home is wherever I am," Angel replied tenderly. He
watched as those sky blue eyes filled with tears, and clucked his tongue
when they began to fall. "Hey, now. Living with me can't be all that bad."

"No," Spike smiled through his tears. "It's not all that bad."

Angel caught a teardrop with his finger. "Icy tears, warm heart," he
whispered.

"Argh, bastard." Spike pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.
"You're not allowed to make me cry."

"Says who?"

"Says me." Spike lowered his hands, opened his eyes, and blinked rapidly.
"Wild. I have colorful circles dancing in my vision." His gaze slid past
Angel to the sky and after a moment he quoted softly, "'The soul would have
no rainbow, had the eyes no tears.'"

Abruptly, he stood and kissed Angel on the forehead. "Love you, Pops," he
said quickly, then disappeared into the hotel.

Angel smiled after him, watching through the window as he went to help
Wesley. "Love you, too, sweet boy," the brunette murmured. "Love you,
too."

The vampire raised his gaze to the clear blue heavens and inhaled the
fragrant early summer air. It was a beautiful day. He hoped the prophesied
apocalypse wouldn't ruin it.


*****


Xander sat on the grand staircase, leaning against the brass railing, still
half-asleep. His nails were bright blue, courtesy of Cordelia the Insane,
with Spike sporting a matching set. Cordelia had not said either of the
boys' names until after she had finished her nail torture. During their
silent time, Xander had surreptitiously studied the blond conundrum while
pretending to read his ex-girlfriend's Glamour magazine.

Spike had these cheekbones that became more defined when he pouted, which
was every time Cordelia looked up from her manicure as he tried to get her
to say his name. His sparkling blue eyes had matched his nail polish in the
hotel suite's lamplight. He had a scar on his leg, a fairly nasty one that
Xander had asked about once they could talk again. Spike had regaled them
with a wild tale about a possessed lawnmower that had them both in stitches,
until Xander had pointed out that it couldn't be true since there weren't
lawnmowers back in the day, and vampires didn't scar. Then the blond had
sheepishly told them he'd fallen off a bookshelf he'd climbed to reach a
book when he was ten.

Xander had gone to bed shortly after that. Sheepish Spike was just too much
to handle, on top of everything the brunette had witnessed earlier. A
vampire wasn't supposed to have facets, and the fact that Spike did had
greatly fried Xander's brain.

Sitting on the steps, Xander felt more or less confident that Pod Spike
wouldn't freak him any longer. The blond vampire looked like he usually
did, dressed in black jeans and tee - no white jockeys in sight. He was
bitching to Wesley while he helped the other man, a normality Xander was
also glad to see.

"What's this? Angel's boy comes for a visit and no one bothers to call me?"
a new voice boomed in the Hyperion lobby.

Xander stood as Spike smiled widely and quickly crossed the lobby. "Gunn!"

The blond was met by a large black man, who grabbed him in a tight hug
before twisting an arm around his neck and giving him a noogie. Just when
Xander thought he was fine with the strangeness, here was *another* person
who immediately welcomed Spike.

"So, what brings you to L.A.?" Gunn asked, affectionately ruffling Spike's
hair.

"Helping the souled demon with the poofy hair," Spike replied. He hitched
up his jeans and rocked on his heels. "Yep. The old man couldn't do it on
his own, 'cause as you know he's got a brain the size of a peanut, so he
called in the big guns."

"Spike, you're so full of it," Angel said, smacking the younger vampire
upside the head as he walked by.

"Did you bring the little ray of sunshine with you?" Gunn said.

"She's shopping with Cordelia," Spike said. Xander came down the stairs,
anticipating an introduction to yet another person who thought Spike was the
shit.

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here." Gunn turned to Angel. "I think this
calls for a family dinner, don't you?"

"At Roosters?" Spike said eagerly.

"Where else?" Gunn answered with a grin at Spike. The black man caught
sight of Xander. "Hello. I don't know you."

Spike gestured for Xander to come over. "Xander, meet Gunn, my badass
brother-in-arms and Angel's lackey," he introduced. "Gunn, this is Xander,
my... uh...," he paused a significant moment, his sky blue eyes searching
Xander's face, "...my-my friend."

Gunn looked between Spike and Xander, then grinned again and punched the
vampire on the arm. "I see how it is, you dog." He held out his hand.
"Good to meet you, Xander."

"Same here," Xander responded, shaking the other man's hand.

Gunn nodded politely, released Xander's hand, and walked over to where Angel
stood near the registration counter. "Family dinner, what do you say?" he
prompted. "Spike's boyfriend can come, too."

Angel and Wesley both snickered. Xander stared at Spike, waiting for him to
correct Gunn's erroneous assumption. Spike was looking intently at the
lobby floor as if he wished it would open up and swallow him.

"I don't know," Angel drawled. "Spike's *boyfriend* might not want to join
us for a family dinner."

"Shut up, Angel," Xander said, not looking away from Spike.

Spike lifted his chin and briefly met Xander's gaze. That was all it took
for Xander to see that the vampire wasn't upset by the mistaken label. More
like pleased, with a dash of bashful embarrassment thrown in. Internally,
Xander freaked.

Externally, Xander barely caught Spike before his head smacked on the tile
floor.

"What the hell?" Xander cradled the peroxide blond's head in his hands,
watching wide-eyed as Spike began convulsing wildly. The vampire's pupils
were tiny black pinpoints in a sea of blue, staring sightlessly at the
ceiling. White spittle gathered at the corners of his slack mouth.

"Spike!" Angel exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside the prone, spasming
blond. He reached for Spike and quickly drew his hands back when Spike
levitated off the floor.

"This can't be good," Gunn said, gaping in shock as Spike's jerking body
rose rapidly towards the ceiling.

"If he says he's an emissary for Gozer the Gozarian, I've truly seen it
all," Wesley murmured.

Slack-jawed, Xander stared as Spike rose higher and higher, past the
gold-plated hanging chandelier and into the painted dome ceiling. Just as
he thought the vampire was going to pass right through the ceiling, Spike's
body burst like a firework into glowing gold particles that slowly drifted
towards the floor.

In the stunned silence of the lobby, the clink of a metal object hitting the
tile was like a gunshot. Xander jerked and dropped his gaze, his eyes
immediately finding a quarter-sized object on the floor in front of him. He
picked it up, noting the wire prongs lining the sides and the glowing green
window in the center. "Spike's chip," he whispered in disbelief.

Suddenly, Xander was on his back, being shaken roughly by an enraged
brunette vampire. "What did you do to him?!" Angel snarled through his
fangs. Wild gold eyes pinned Xander as effectively as Angel's bulk. "What
did you do?!!"

"Nothing," Xander yelped, his head hitting the Parque tile with each violent
shake by Angel.

"Angel, stop!" Gunn ordered. He and Wesley grabbed the vampire under the
arms and dragged him off of Xander.

Xander blinked the stars out of his vision, stifling a groan of pain. He
heard Angel, Wesley, and Gunn yelling at each other, but they sounded like
they were in a tunnel. Concussion, possibly, Xander mentally diagnosed
himself. He touched the back of his head, and his fingers came away bloody.
A contusion, too, he thought.

"You're bleeding all over the floor." Xander felt something press against
the back of his head, and he hissed in pain. "Bloody pillock. I think we
need to get you to a hospital, Xander."

"Good idea," Xander said between clenched teeth. At the hospital, maybe
they could explain why he'd just seen Spike explode and was now hearing his
voice.

Xander raised his eyes without moving too much and saw Spike kneeling behind
his head, looking down at him with worry. "You're glowing," Xander said.
"And you're naked.

Spike glanced at his lap, pressed his thighs tighter together, and blushed.
"I see that. You, uh, see that, too."

"You're pretty good looking," Xander slurred as the world lost focus, "for a
dead guy."

"Xander, don't conk out on me," Spike said, his voice growing fainter with
each word. "Xander, come on, luv..."

"Sorry, Cricket. Gonna take a nap now. 'Night," Xander said, allowing the
darkness to pull him under.

Part Seven  

The hospital was crowded. People with every injury imaginable walked,
stumbled, were carried or pushed through the automatic doors. The scent of
antiseptic did little to mask the smell of blood and death. The Grim Reaper
paced the corridors, ducking into rooms to claim victims of gunshots and car
accidents with little regard or sympathy for those the patient left behind.

Spike paced the floor in the waiting area, unerringly stepping over
stretched out legs and avoiding other pacers. Concerned family and friends
of patients filled the room, sitting in uncomfortable plastic chairs of
avocado and mustard color and reading year old magazines. Some drank
vending machine coffee, their shaking hands announcing that they've already
had too much.

Spike's hands shook despite not having any coffee. Carding his fingers
through his hair, he continued to wear a hole in the tile floor. Xander was
due to be released any time now, and the wait was driving Spike crazy. He
and Wesley had been shooed from Xander's room by Nurse Ratchet so the
resident on-call could give the brunette a final exam before releasing him.

A squeak of a gymshoe on the floor caused Spike to whirl on his heel. He
breathed a sigh of relief and quickly crossed to the brunette with a white
bandage around his head coming down the hall. "Are you sprung?"

Xander nodded, and whispered, "Will you keep yourself covered? It's
disturbing enough that you're glowing without the naked thing."

"Sorry." Spike re-tied the hospital gown he was wearing backwards.

"Mr. Harris, are we ready to leave?" Wesley asked, meeting Xander at the
entrance to the waiting area.

"We're good to go," Xander replied with a sidelong glance at the mostly
naked glowing vampire standing beside him.

Wesley nodded, completely ignoring said naked glowing vamp. "Very good.
I'm parked in the pay garage. This way."

Spike fell into step beside Xander. "He still can't see me, pet. No one
but you can for the moment."

"Lucky me," Xander muttered. Louder, he asked Wesley, "How's Angel?"

"Heavily sedated," Wesley answered. "I've spoken with Gunn, and Angel most
likely won't awaken until tonight sometime." He gave Xander a
not-too-friendly look. "By then, I expect you will be gone."

"What are you getting mad at me for?" Xander followed Wesley out of the
hospital and into the parking garage. "I didn't do anything to Spike."

"I know that," Wesley said, "but this is a time for family..."

"And I'm not a part of it," Xander finished, a bitter note creeping into his
voice.

"You are, too," Spike stated.

"Invisible, naked glowing people's opinions don't count," Xander mumbled,
rounding the car to the passenger side. "Especially someone who is probably
a figment of my concussed imagination."

Spike waggled his brows. "You imagine me naked?"

Xander ignored him and got into the car. Spike grabbed the car door before
it closed. "I need to get in, too, pet."

"Is there a problem?" Wesley asked from the driver's seat, looking
quizzically at Xander.

"No." Xander waited until Spike slithered into the back seat before pulling
the door shut.

As the car got underway, Spike sighed and scooted out of the sunlight coming
through Wesley's open window. He adjusted the hem of the hospital gown,
keeping his dangly bits covered. He really needed to find some different
clothing. Mint green was not his color, glowing a faint gold or not.

Looking out the tinted side window, Spike let his mind drift over the events
that led him to being mostly naked in the backseat of a motor vehicle.
Unfortunately, sex was not involved.

Spike remembered standing in the lobby of the Hyperion, giddy because Gunn
had mislabeled Xander as Spike's boyfriend. Then there had been pain. It
had ripped through his body unexpectedly, and it was worse than anything
he'd ever felt. At that moment, he had wished for permanent death, the pain
was so awful.

He'd thought he *had* died when the pain abruptly stopped and he'd opened
his eyes to find himself floating in a colorless void. Before he could
question what had happened, his mind had been filled with answers and
information, and then he was abruptly standing in the lobby of the Hyperion
again and Xander was bleeding on the floor.

He knew why he was glowing and why only Xander could see and hear him at the
moment. He hadn't a clue as to why he'd returned naked as a jaybird from
his impromptu visit with the Gods, but that was unimportant. What was
important was, getting back to the Hyperion, letting his family know he was
not dead... er, more dead... and telling them what the prophecy had meant.

Spike would've done the second part sooner if Xander hadn't been in need of
medical attention. He'd been afraid that if he'd popped up, alive and
glowing, Xander would've been ignored as the blond tried to explain what had
happened, and that was unacceptable. Human head injuries were not to be
taken lightly, and it had been possible that every second would've counted.
Spike now knew from the hospital visit that the boy hadn't been in any real
danger, but at the time he wasn't going to chance it.

Leaning forward, Spike lightly tapped Xander on the shoulder. "When we get
to the hotel, I need you to play 'Ghost'-ly Whoopi Goldberg and act as a
temporary Medium for me."

Xander's response was to ignore him. Spike sighed again. "C'mon, luv. I
need you to do this for me."

He was still ignored.

"I'll say please if I have to."

No response.

"Please?"

Nothing.

"Pretty please?"

Not even a twitch.

"Pretty please, with a naked me on top."

Nada.

"Pretty please, with my promise to put clothes on?"

Success! A faint nod. Although Spike didn't know if he should feel
insulted or complimented by the fact his nudity bothered Xander.

They arrived at the Hyperion, and with a terse "Stay here" to Xander in the
lobby, Spike dashed upstairs to change out of the hospital gown. Not
wanting to waste time, he threw on a pair of jeans only. However, he
couldn't stop himself from going next door to check on Angel.

Angel was flat out on the bed, his features slack because of the sedatives
Wesley reported were given to him. From the bedroom, Spike could see Gunn
sitting in a chair on the balcony, the tear tracks on his face glinting in
the late afternoon sun. The blond became choked up. Gunn was grieving for
him. Spike knew that his patchwork family cared for, and even loved, him,
but seeing his supposed death cause tears really drove it home.

Clearing his throat, Spike turned to his sire and brushed his fingers across
Angel's brow. His thumb left a glowing golden streak that faded away after
a moment. Because of the sun, he couldn't let Gunn know he was still
kicking and the drugs in Angel's system put him down for the count, too.

"I'm okay, Angel," Spike said, even though the older vampire couldn't hear
him. "You haven't gotten rid of me yet." He placed a kiss on Angel's brow,
which also left a glowing mark that faded shortly thereafter, then headed
downstairs.

Wesley was leaning over a book at the registration counter, although Spike
could tell he wasn't reading it. Xander was sitting sideways on the third
to last step of the red-carpeted grand staircase, leaning against the wall
with his eyes closed. The white bandage around his head made Spike wince.
Xander was fine, Spike reminded himself. Concussed and stitched, but
overall no real harm was done by his idiotic father figure.

Cordelia and Dawn had not returned from their shopping excursion, which was
good. Spike didn't want them to suffer one iota of heartache with the
mistaken impression that he was dust. He loved his best friends too much to
do that to them.

"Xander," Spike addressed the tired-looking young man. "I need you to tell
Wesley that I'm here." He didn't want to give Wes a heart attack by
suddenly appearing, which was why he'd waited until after the hospital trip
to do this.

Without opening his eyes, Xander said, loud enough for Wesley to hear,
"Spike's not dust."

Wesley's head whipped around and he stared hard at Xander. "Come again?"

"Spike's not dust," Xander repeated. He cracked open his eyes, and gestured
at the blond standing in front of him. "He's right there. Apparently, I'm
the only person who sees him."

"That is not funny, Mr. Harris," Wesley said harshly.

"Am I laughing?" Xander straightened and pointed directly at Spike. "No
joke. Spike is right there, glowing gold and making me play Telephone."

The look Wesley gave Xander caused *Spike* to shiver on the boy's behalf.
He had to intervene before the not-so-secret love of his life learned that
Wesley wasn't simply the book geek he appeared to be. "Tell Wes that I gave
him Henkley's 'Nershoix' for his birthday with the naughty bookmark inside,"
Spike directed.

Xander repeated the information, and a deep furrow appeared between Wesley's
brow. "What did the bookmark say?" Wesley asked warily.

Spike told Xander, who passed it on. "'Rec' li betex ter winde'k'... ca,
um, ca..." The younger brunette looked at Spike. "What's the last word
again?"

"'Cacum,'" Spike supplied.

"'Cacum,'" Xander finished.

Wesley looked stunned. "Where-where is he?"

"I'm right here, Wes," Spike said, stepping in front of him.

"In front of you," Xander told Wesley.

Wesley hesitantly extended his hand, and Spike clasped it with one of his
own. The other man removed his glasses, staring intently at his hand. "I
can feel something holding my hand. Is he holding my hand?"

"He's holding your hand," Xander confirmed.

The blond brought his other hand up and ran his fingertip from Wesley's
hairline on down, ending with a tap to the tip of his nose. A streak of
glowing gold was left behind where Spike had touched, and when it faded
Wesley jerked as the vampire suddenly appeared in front of him. "Spike?"
Wesley gasped.

"Present and accounted for," Spike said with a small smile. "Sorry about
the scare."

Wesley used their clasped hands to pull Spike into a hard hug, then abruptly
released him and stepped back. "Um... yes... good to have you back... if
you'll pardon me," he said in a wavering voice. He pivoted and walked
quickly out of the lobby.

Spike watched after him. Wesley wasn't one to show his emotions in public,
even if the public consisted of two people. Spike hated that he'd caused
yet another member of his family any pain, but it was their feelings for him
and his feelings for them in return that had caused what happened to him,
and knowing what he did, Spike wouldn't change anything.

The blond took a seat beside Xander on the step, propped his elbows on his
knees and chin on his fists. He waited silently for Wesley's return,
running over his explanation in his head. Xander had closed his eyes again
and was once more leaning against the wall.

"Why me?" Xander broke the quiet with his blunt question.

"Why were you able to see me first?" Spike tried to clarify.

"No." Xander opened his eyes and pinned him with his dark gaze. "Why do
you like me in a naughty-touching boyfriend way?"

Spike's mouth fell open, and he answered intelligently, "Uh..."

Xander continued to stare at him, and Spike shifted uncomfortably on the
step. He twisted his hands and his gaze flitted around the lobby, not
focusing on anything for long. "How-how do you know I like you at- at all?"
the blond stammered finally.

Xander snorted. "I may be an idiot, but I'm not blind, Spike."

Spike's looked at Xander in amazement. "Angel said something exactly like
that earlier today."

"Neat. But that doesn't answer my question," Xander said. "Why me? Why
did Gunn's mistaking me for your boyfriend make you look as giddy as a
schoolgirl?"

"Er... ah..." Spike dropped his chin and picked at his fresh coat of blue
nailpolish, which was glowing a faint gold like the rest of him. "Well, um,
you're-you're attractive, and, uh, pretty smart, and- and humorous. And you
have an infectious smile." He smiled as he pictured it, and continued.
"You're protective of your friends, loyal to the point of stupidity, braver
than the bloody Slayer, and... uh..." He glanced at Xander, and finished
softly, "You don't treat me like an insect you're too lazy to kill."

Xander took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Spike held his own
metaphorical breath, waiting for the boy's response. He couldn't believe
he'd sort-of confessed his love, after telling Angel and Cordelia he wasn't
ever going to spill. It showed how weak he was when it came to Xander,
Spike thought.

"Okay, Glowboy, listen up," Xander said, rising to his feet. He stuck his
hand in his pockets and looked down at Spike. "I don't like you, and until
last night I didn't think anyone else liked you either. However, my blue
nails and the crack in my skull says otherwise."

Xander pulled one hand from his pocket and flipped something to Spike.
"Prove to me that you're worth liking, Spike, and then we'll talk about the
naughty-touching boyfriend part."

Spike stared at the chip in his hand as Xander wandered away.

Part Eight

"I don't see him." Gunn stopped at the bottom of the grand staircase in the
Hyperion's lobby, folded his arms, and glared at Wesley. "Again, I
reiterate, English, if this is your idea of a joke, I will hurt you."

"I assure you, it is no joke," Wesley said. "Spike is right in front of
you."

Taking his cue, Spike stood on his tip-toes - sometimes being short
sucked -and placed his hand on Gunn's shiny bald head. Gunn started at the
invisible touch and Spike dropped his hand. A glowing gold hand-print
remained briefly, then faded away. Gunn jerked when Spike materialized
suddenly in front of him.

"Spike?" Gunn questioned warily.

"Not dead," Spike replied in jest.

Gunn punched him across the jaw in response.

"Ow! What was that-"

Gunn hit him again.

"Bloody he-"

And again.

Spike flinched when it looked like Gunn was going to punch him a fourth
time. Instead, the big black man grabbed him in a bone-crushing hug.

"You peroxide jackass," Gunn said, his voice wavering with emotion. He
released the vampire after a moment, wiped his teary eyes, and promptly
punched Spike again. "That's for making me cry."

Spike rubbed his jaw, ignoring the snickers from the other two men in the
lobby. "Then what were the others for?"

"The first, for making us think you'd died. The second, for not being dead.
And the third... just because," Gunn answered. He stepped back and looked
over Spike from head to toe. "Why are you glowing?"

The blond hitched up his jeans - bugger, he really had lost weight - and
padded to the desk. "This is why I'm glowing," he said, pushing Xander's
feet off the desk and picking up the English translation of the prophecy.

"You are a part of the prophecy?" Wesley said, joining him by the desk.

"I *am* the prophecy," Spike corrected, "and now that it's been fulfilled,
you don't need to worry your pretty little heads about it."

They all stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Is it that hard to believe?" the blond said.

"Yes," chorused the three.

"Very funny," Spike said flatly.

"All right, Spike," Wesley said, taking the translated prophecy from the
faintly glowing vampire. "Tell us why you think this prophecy pertains to
you."

"I don't think; I know," Spike said.

"And how do you know?" Wesley asked.

"I'm glowing, ain't I?"

Gunn walked over and smacked Spike upside the head. "Don't be smart."

Spike glared at the other man. "I already have a pseudo-father, I don't
need a second one."

"Then stop being mouthy and answer the question," Gunn told him.

Spike refrained from childishly sticking his tongue out at Gunn... barely.
He glanced at Xander, who grinned mockingly at him, before turning back to
Wesley. "I know because the Powers told me. I've been chosen as their
Herald."

"You don't look at all like a Harold," Xander commented. "A James, maybe.
Or a Samuel."

Spike gave Xander a dirty look. "A Herald is like a job, not a name, you
plonker."

"What are you heralding, *Samuel*?" Gunn asked with a smirk.

Spike's dirty look transferred to Gunn, but it was Wesley who answered, "The
first days of the apocalypse." The bespectacled man looked at the
translation in his hand, then at Spike. "Dear heavens."

"Don't worry, Wes, the apocalypse isn't coming tomorrow," Spike said
quickly. "I've been chosen to inform a flock of do-gooders that they are
players in the World Cup of games between Good and Evil."

"Sounds like the plot to a bad sci-fi movie," Xander said. "Then again, the
last eight years of my life have been like the plot of a bad sci-fi movie."

"I'm with you on that," Gunn commented to Xander. He leaned a hip on the
desk, crossed his arms, and said to Spike, "So, I take it we're some of
these 'players.'"

The blond vampire shook his head. "No, you're family, and I wanted you to
know I wasn't dust like you'd thought." A corner of his mouth turned up.
"M'not really supposed to allow the non-warriors to see me."

And Spike *wasn't* supposed to reveal his presence to those not a part of
the apocalyptic battle to come. It was to ensure his safety, to allow him
to travel freely, and... well, because he was glowing. It would be a right
pain if he had to keep explaining the reason for that, and he doubted many
would believe the answer anyway: that he was a Higher Being. The chosen
warriors would believe, of that he knew, as would his L.A. family, which was
why he'd 'freed' their minds by touching their heads, allowing them to see
him. And, of course, he'd touched Xander because he was in love with the
guy, that was just a given.

"Um, who are the warriors then?" Xander asked. A lightbulb seemed to appear
above his head. "Buffy's probably one, right?"

"That skanky bint isn't even on the Second list," Spike replied with a
sneer. "Angel's one of the players, though, and his Second is a bloke named
Lindsey McDonald."

"The Wolfram and Hart attorney?" Wesley said in disbelief. "You must be
joking."

"I don't joke, not about this," Spike said seriously. "As I will tell Angel
when he wakes up, he is one of the warriors picked by the Powers to fight on
the side of Good. The powers have deemed this Lindsey as Angel's Second,
the one who will fight at his side."

Gunn exchanged looks with Wesley. "Spike said he wasn't joking, but why do
I want to laugh my black ass off?"

"I take it you know who Lindsey McDonald is?" Spike said.

"Yes," Wesley replied. "He is an attorney who works for the evil Wolfram
and Hart law firm."

"Isn't that redundant? Evil lawyers?" Xander said. He was ignored.

"Angel and Lindsey do *not* get along," Gunn explained. "And that's putting
it mildly."

"Sometimes the greatest enemies make the best lovers," Spike said, dropping
his gaze to his bare feet rather than blatantly staring at Xander. A
silence descended over the lobby, causing everyone to shift uncomfortably.

Finally, the blond cleared his throat, and continued. "No matter what
happens between Angel and Lindsey, they will be at the battle, of that I'm
certain." He refrained from telling them Angel and Lindsey might both end
up fighting for the other side. That information was for Angel's ears only.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about this battle?" Wesley inquired.

"Only that I'm leaving as soon as I talk to Angel and say goodbye to the
girls," Spike replied. "Xander, I trust you'll be able to drive the DeSoto
back to Sunnydale with Dawn."

"You're not coming with us?" Xander said with a grin. "Woo-hoo! Break out
the champagne!"

"Yeah, throw a soddin' celebration," Spike said, hurt by Xander's response.
"The Slayer and the rest of your chums won't ever see me again." He started
for the stairs, muttering, "Not like you really ever saw me before."

"I did, too, see you," Xander stated, catching up with him. "More than I
wanted, actually."

Spike snorted. "That makes me feel much better."

"Well, what did you expect?" Xander said. "You're a *vampire.* A soulless
monster. That which is to be staked by Slayerettes like me."

They reached the top of the stairs, and Spike faced Xander, spreading his
arms wide and ignoring the audience below. "Then why the hell haven't you
staked me, eh? If I'm such a bloody monster, why am I still walking
around?"

"You had the chip," Xander said.

"What, this?" Spike dug the chip from his jeans pocket and held it up. "Is
this the chip you mean?"

Xander swallowed audibly and took a step back, his face paling. "Uh...
yeah. Th-that's the one."

Spike could smell Xander's fear, and his hurt and anger grew. "The only
thing this hunk of wire and metal did was, to get me to slow down and think.
It wasn't preventing me from hiring someone to kill you all."

If anything, Xander became paler. "You mean, you could have killed us at
any time?"

Spike clenched his fists, the metal prongs on the chip cutting into his
palm. "But I didn't, did I? And that's the whole effin' point."

"Then why haven't you told Gunn or Wesley that the chip is out, huh?" Xander
said, showing a spark of courage despite his fear, which was one of the
reasons Spike loved him.

Spike unclenched his fists, took Xander's hand, holding tightly when the
brunette tried to jerk away, and pressed the chip into his palm. "The chip
doesn't matter to them, Xander. It never has. In fact, Angel tried his
damndest to get it out."

"Oh," Xander said faintly.

"I've been chosen Herald by the Powers, Xander," the glowing vampire said
slowly, looking into Xander's fear-tinged eyes. "Out of everyone on Earth,
both demon and non-demon, the Powers chose *me* to gather the warriors of
Good. Don't you think that says something?"

"Yeah: what were the Powers smoking," Xander quipped with a wary smile, "and
can They give me some?"

Spike laughed, shaking his head in complete amusement. Gods, he loved this
boy. "If you want to tell the others about the chip, go ahead," he told
Xander. "I'm going to sit with Sleeping Broody until he wakes up."

"Okay."

Spike started to leave, but Xander called his name after a few steps. The
vampire stopped and turned to face him again.

Xander glanced at the chip in his hand, then looked back at Spike. "I may
not have trusted you, but I always knew you were there."

The blond knew Xander was referring to all the times Spike worked with the
Slayer and her group. He smiled faintly, nodded in acknowledgment, and
continued to Angel's room.

Spike decided to finish dressing and to put right his room before sitting
with Angel. He couldn't bring anything on his journey; just the clothing he
wore would become invisible to the naked eye, like him. He also wanted to
leave as soon as he could. He might be a Higher Being now, but he was still
a vampire and that pesky sun limited his travel times. He didn't get any
nifty magickal abilities as the chosen Herald, he was only invisible to the
untouched population and he had the authority of the Powers behind him.

He ran into Cordelia and Dawn in the hall, loaded down with shopping bags
and newly styled hair. He quickly gave them the ability to see him, and the
first words out of Cordelia's mouth were: "Spike, have you been listening to
your Ziggy Stardust albums again?"

Despite being mortified, Spike gave them the short, short version of the
explanation he'd given to Wesley, Giles, and Xander. The girls believed him
much more readily, but he shared things with them on a regular basis and
less often with the rest of his mismatched family, so that made sense. He
also received kisses and congratulations, rather than mocking celebration
and punches in the jaw.

He informed them he'd be leaving that night and didn't know when he'd
return. He had a mental list of where all the warriors were located, but
the world was a mighty big place and there might be difficulties along the
way. Having to limit his travel to nighttime was one of them. Still, Dawn
pouted, whined, and tried to weasel an invitation. Spike told her no,
because, one, they didn't have any money and, two, Buffy wouldn't let Dawn
go with a *visible* Spike. What were the odds of her going with an
*invisible* one?

With promises not to leave before saying goodbye, Spike and the girls parted
and he entered Angel's suite. The dark-haired vampire was sprawled on the
bed exactly as Spike had last saw him. Pulling up a chair beside the bed,
the glowing man sat, leaned forward, and clasped one of Angel's limp hands
between both of his. Silly sod, Spike thought affectionately. Getting all
worked up over Spike's supposed death was touching, but unnecessary. No
one should mourn him.

Angel was groggy when he awoke from his drug-induced sleep an hour later.
Spike smoothed his fingers over the other man's brow and smiled when he
focused bleary eyes on Spike. "Welcome back," Spike said.

Angel blinked several times, and asked hoarsely, "Are you a ghost?"

"Not a ghost." Spike briefly cupped Angel's cheek and quoted, "'I'm a real,
live boy.'"

*Crunch.* There went the rest of his ribs, Spike thought as Angel squished
the demon out of him. What was it with his family and hugging him all the
time? Jeez.

"My boy, my boy," Angel peppered kisses on Spike's glowing face, "my sweet,
sweet boy."

"Oh, for hell's sake, cut it out, you ponce," Spike grumbled exasperatedly,
trying to squirm out of Angel's embrace.

"You're not dust. I think I'm entitled to be mushy," Angel told him,
hugging him even closer. "Don't ever die on me again, understand? You're
not too old to be taken over my knee."

Spike's face was smashed against Angel's chest, so the older vampire didn't
see the eye-rolling. "Are you going to let go?" the blond said, although it
sounded more like: "Maroo gun da ledgo?"

"No." Angel manhandled Spike into a desired position, sitting sideways on
his lap, wrapped his arms snugly around the smaller man's waist, and held
him. "Now, explanations, please. Start with what happened in the lobby and
go from there."

Spike stopped trying to break Angel's hold and gave into sitting on his
pseudo-father's lap like a little boy. With more detail than he'd given any
of the others, Spike shared what had happened - the grey void, being chosen
Herald and what that entailed, and Angel's role in the apocalypse, including
his task to convince Lindsey McDonald to fight with him when the time came
and warning him that the bad guys would try to seduce him to their side.

Spike watched the wheels turn in the other man's mind as he processed
everything. It was a lot to take in, but he wasn't worried about Angel
disbelieving him, and not just because he was one of the warriors.
Sometimes having a father, even a self-proclaimed one, had its advantages.
It was nice to be taken seriously and not have everything he said
questioned, which rarely happened with Slayer, Incorporated, even after all
these years helping them.

He would've moved to L.A. long ago if he hadn't felt indebted to Angel for
trying to have the chip taken out. Spike had told Angel earlier that he
stayed in Sunnydale to watch Xander's back, but that wasn't entirely true.
He'd only been in love with the boy for about a month. All the years before
that, he'd stayed to watch Buffy's back, for Angel.

"So, the prophecy was about you, huh?" Angel said eventually.

"Scary, eh?" Spike grinned.

"Extremely," Angel agreed. He frowned. "But I don't remember an ice
storm."

"Prophecies are rarely literal, Angel, you know that," Spike said. He
raised his chin and fluttered his lashes. "What color are my eyes?"

Angel's frown deepened. "Blue, why?"

"Patience, Peachesan," Spike tut-tutted. "What color is a cloudless sky?"

"Blue," Angel replied.

Spike nodded. "Remember my waterworks earlier this afternoon?"

"'Icy tears, warm heart,'" Angel quoted himself as understanding dawned.

"Right," Spike said. "And remember how I rubbed my eyes and said I saw
colorful spots after? Spouted off flowery poetry about rainbows? An
Angel's eye is a rainbow that forms a complete circle."

"Colorful spots." Angel put two and two together and came up with three. "
'The one that is three: the hunter, the predator, the prey,'" he recited.
"You hunt demons, as a vampire you're a predator, and your chip makes you
prey."

Spike tapped his nose. "Bingo. And the next line was referring to you: 'a
demon with a heart of light.'"

"Which means, the prophecy really was about you," Angel said, a hint of awe
in his voice. "Now you're a Higher Being, a Herald for the Gods."

"Kind of neat, innit?"

"It's more than kind of neat, Spike," Angel said. "It's- it's..." He
paused, and an expression Spike had seen before, but never with this
intensity, appeared on Angel's face. "I am so proud of you."

Spike could have been knocked over with a feather. His jaw dropped and he
stared at Angel in shock. His mentor had *never* said those words before,
or even implied them and, truthfully, Spike had longed to hear them his
entire life.

He was feeling all odd inside, and wasn't too sure he liked it, so he
quickly changed the subject. "My chip is gone," he blurted.

Angel stared at him a moment. "Not only have you being given such an honor,
your chip is gone, too?" He made a sound of disgust. "Not fair. I'll
trade you, your prophecy for mine," he whined, referring to the Prophecies
of Aberjian.

Spike laughed, and the world righted itself again. "Forget it," he said.
"I happen to like being a vampire."

"Even though, over the past five years, until now, you've been handicapped
by the chip?" Angel inquired thoughtfully.

"Even though, and more because," Spike said cryptically. He finally managed
to escape Angel's hold and moved to sit cross-legged on the bed beside the
other vampire. He searched for the words, and continued. "'Spike' was an
invention, you know. Creating him gave me the chance to be the complete
opposite of what I was as a human: a foppish bookworm without a spine, who
couldn't fight his way out of a paper sack."

"I know," Angel said, prompting Spike to go on.

"It was fun being Spike," Spike continued, "and after a few years he became
less of a role and more of who I was. I turned into the Badass Master
Vampire who Drusilla adored and others feared." He gave Angel a twisted
grin. "Then I get to Sunnydale. Stuff happens, some good, some bad, some
really bloody awful. I leave, I come back. I leave again and come back. I
leave again and come back and get my fangs capped. And that's when things
began to change."

Angel tilted his head slightly, listening intently. "How?"

"I stopped and smelled the roses, basically." Spike plucked at his
bootlaces. "Oh, I was still a Badass Master Vampire, but I was also alone.
Very, very alone."

He shrugged abruptly before Angel could show pity. "S'one of the reasons I
started helping your ex-twat. I wasn't welcome to pal-around with the other
demons once I took up hunting them for sport, and Buffy, et cetera, at least
tolerated my presence if I played nicely with everyone."

Angel nodded in understanding. "You had to play a new role."

"I see all that hairgel hasn't rotted your brain." Spike ducked the swat
and continued. "You're right on the role-playing. I dug into my memories
of how William behaved as a human and tried to act a little like him around
the others. Then you started asking for my help and my best behavior was
required around your pets, too. Eventually, just as Spike became me, I
turned into the conglomeration of SpikeWilliam, and I kind of like being
him."

"I kind of like you being him, too," Angel said with a mischievous grin. "
'Pure' Spike was a real dick."

Spike flicked him off, then segued, "From what I heard, this Lindsey is a
dick, too."

"It will be like you never left."

Conversation over. Spike pounced and wrestled with Angel until they fell
off the bed. The blond stood first. Angel was on his hands and knees
still, and Spike smacked him on the ass, leaving a glowing gold hand-print
on that large expanse of buttock. Angel growled, and Spike laughed and took
off running.

The centuries old vampires, having the maturity that came with age, careened
into the Hyperion's lobby where the others had congregated, and skidded to a
halt. Spike immediately put on his "I'm an adult" face. Angel wore the
same expression, but he still de-pantsed Spike.

"Angel!" Spike exclaimed, scrambling to pull his trousers and underwear up
again. Laughter, at his expense, filled the lobby. Xander put his hand
over Dawn's eyes, but she pried his fingers apart and peeked through them.
She wolf-whistled.

"Dawn, stop looking at Spike's naked parts," Cordelia scolded, while
blatantly ogling said naked parts herself.

Spike tugged up his jeans and re-fastened them. "Nobody should be looking
at my naked bits unless they plan to do something with them."

"If you can find them, first," Xander said with a smirk.

More laughter at Spike's expense. How typical. He gave Xander a black
look, then addressed the group. "And on that humiliating note, I'll be
shoving off."

Everyone sobered quickly. "Already?" Cordelia said, walking over to him.

Spike nodded. "Miles to go and all that rubbish."

She stepped into his hug and kissed him briefly on the mouth. "You'd better
email and IM me," she said.

"I will, luv," he agreed.

Dawn took her place. "Write me, too," she said by his ear. "Are you sure I
can't come with?"

"Dead cert," Spike said, hugging her tight. "I'm not going to France
anyway."

"Oh, well, in that case..." She grinned, but it was a little wavery.

Angel hugged him next. "Take care. If you need anything..."

"I'll call," Spike promised.

Angel kissed the top of his head and stepped away. Wesley came forward next
and gave Spike's hand a hardy handshake. "Good luck with your endeavor."

"Thanks, Wes," Spike said. He turned to Gunn, who'd come up beside him, and
was promptly punched in the face.

"That's for anything you're *going* to do," Gunn stated.

Rubbing his jaw, Spike glowered at the other man. He pivoted to Xander, who
had walked up behind him. "You gonna hit me, too?" the blond asked
caustically.

"Only if you want me to," Xander said with a quirk of a brow.

Spike leered. "Kinky."

Xander rolled his eyes and stuck out his hand. "Go away, Spike."

Spike glanced at the large, tanned paw in front of him, and clasped it
tentatively. His own brow rose in surprise when he felt Xander press a slip
of paper against his palm. He put it quickly into his pocket after giving
Xander's hand a pump. "I'm going. Try not to get killed, eh?"

"Will do," Xander agreed with a smile.

Spike wanted to capture that smile in a kiss, just one kiss, because he
suddenly had a bad feeling he'd never see the boy again. He swallowed
nervously and glanced at the others. Every single one of them were
gesturing or mouthing for him to kiss Xander. Gods, talk about bloody
embarrassing. He hoped Xander didn't see what they were doing.

Spike returned his attention to the brunette, who was watching him with
those chocolate anime eyes of his. The blond licked his lips and took a
small step closer to Xander. "Can... will you... if... Oh, fuck all," he
growled, and swooped in for a kiss.

The kiss was short. It was dry. It was closed-mouthed. It was, by far,
the worst kiss ever. And the applause and cheers didn't help matters,
either.

Spike looked warily at Xander, who seemed to be shell-shocked. He wasn't
being splattered across the lobby by an angry male, at least. "Uh, sorry
'bout that," he mumbled, wishing he hadn't gone and kissed the other man.

"Sorry you kissed me," Xander asked, "or sorry you kissed me so badly?"

"Er... either. Or both. You pick," Spike replied, embarrassed.

Xander lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. "I kind of liked it."

"Huh?" Spike goggled at him.

"I got to be the cliché," Xander grinned lopsidedly, "and that's cool."

Spike had no effin' clue what Xander meant. Of course, his brain had frozen
shortly following the phrase, "I kind of liked it."

Xander waved his hand in front of Spike's face. "Hello? Earth to
Glowworm."

Spike started, blushed, and grumbled, "What?"

:You're going to ruin my movie moment if you don't leave now," Xander said
in an exaggerated stage whisper.

"Right." Spike turned and headed for the front doors of the hotel. At the
top of the steps, he glanced back, and saw his family gathered to one side
and Xander alone on the other. "Well, bye."

"Bye, Spike," everyone said in some shape or form, but Spike only heard the
boy's deep tones. His gaze lingered on Xander for a minute, then he walked
out the door.

TBC