K-I-S-S-I-N-G 
by Saber ShadowKitten 

Eminent death was on the horizon. A big, scary monster with big, sharp 
teeth was drooling on his shoes. Buffy was nowhere around. 

And all Xander could think was: [I'm holding Spike's hand.] 

The end of the movie had been great. Both he and Spike had forgotten the 
kiss [yeah, right] and became immersed in the Movie For Guys Who Like Movies 
[soon to be seen on 'TBS.'] The car ride home had been filled with: "Did 
you see...", "Wasn't it awesome when...", and "That movie kicked..." 

"*ROAR*!" went the big, scary monster standing directly in front of the two 
moviegoers. 

"Um, pet," Spike whispered, his fingers tightening around Xander's hand. 
"Would you think I'm less than manly if I ran away?" 

"Only if you don't take me with you," Xander replied nervously. Which was 
good, because his brain was still focused on the fact that he was holding 
Spike's hand. [Slender fingers. Surprisingly smooth skin. Strong grip.] 

He and Spike had been walking from the car to the basement door of the 
Harris household, post-'Gladiator', when Tall-and-Ugly had appeared. The 
very large brownish demon had bared its rows of wicked-looking teeth [the 
better to eat you with, my dear] and roared. Startled, Xander's hand had 
shot out and latched onto Spike [like the Mommy-Arm in a car.] Instead of 
shaking him off, Spike had curled his fingers around Xander's palm and was 
hanging on for dear unlife. 

"On three, we run," Xander said, all the while wondering if he could run and 
hold Spike's hand at the same time. 

"Three, right." Spike sounded scared. Xander had learned that it was bad 
when a vampire was afraid. [I wonder if would Spike be afraid if he didn't 
have the chip in his skull.] He'd have to ask later, when there wasn't a 
very large monster about to eat them. 

"*ROAR*!!" 

"OnetwothreeRUN!" Xander yelped, already taking off at a dead sprint. He 
lost hold of Spike [wah!] as the vampire put on the speed. 

Behind him, Xander could hear thunderous running footsteps as the really, 
really big demon came after them. Spike was yanking on the doors of the Bel 
Air when Xander came around the corner of the garage. "Locked!" he yelled, 
latching onto the blond as he raced by the car. It wouldn't have mattered 
if the doors were open, either, because they wouldn't have been able to 
start the engine before the demon was upon them. 

The demon may have had longer legs, but fear could make the slowest tortoise 
run like a hare. Across the street and through the neighbor's yard, they 
ran; over the fence and through the weeds on a vacant lot; across another 
street, splash through a kiddie pool, [dog poop, eew], and they came upon a 
huge weeping willow tree. 

Xander ducked under the long, thin vine-like branches, stopped beside the 
thick trunk, and cupped his hands in front of him. "Spike, up!" he said 
quickly. 

Spike gave him a surprised look before sprinting the short distance between 
them. He stuck his foot in Xander's hands and the brunette hoisted him 
upwards. The momentum carried him to the lowest branch of the tree. 

Xander spit on his hands, wiped them on his pants, bent his knees and 
jumped. He caught the branch Spike was now standing on and swung himself 
up. Years of climbing the willow tree [with the Willow person] made it 
easy. He balanced on the balls of his feet, one hand holding the branch in 
front of him, and looked at Spike. "Can you climb?" 

Spike nodded and started doing just that. Xander following behind close 
him, keeping one hand on the blond's backside like he used to do with 
Willow, making sure Spike wouldn't fall. It wasn't until Spike reached the 
nook where a young Xander and Willow had spent many a day hiding from Jesse, 
that Xander comprehended the fact his hand was on Spike's ass. [Squeezable 
ass. And I so did not just think that.] 

Xander quickly pulled his hand away and wondered how many shades of red his 
face would be. He settled in the natural nook the tree made, where the 
trunk split in several directions. "If Big Guy is a tree climbing demon, 
follow this branch," Xander patted one of the branches. "It entwines with 
the willow tree behind us, and we can escape that way." 

Spike nodded again, not saying anything. The silence grew, broken only by 
the sounds of the night; crickets chirped, racoons scavenged, opossums 
played dead. No scary-looking demons roaring; just a blue-eyed cute one 
yawning widely. 

"On't oo at," Xander scolded through his own yawn. "Don't you know that 
yawns are catchy?" 

Spike half-shrugged, staring at his hands resting in his lap. Xander 
frowned, reached out, and tapped the blond under the chin. "Hey, what's 
up?" he asked, then grinned. "I mean, besides us." 

No laugh from Spike, or even a 'you're pathetic' chuckle. Xander's frown 
returned. "Spike?" 

"Irnway," Spike mumbled. 

"Huh?" 

"Iranaway." 

"One more time?" 

"I ran away!" Spike snapped. He glared at Xander. "There, you happy? 
Spike, the evil vampire, ran away like a bloody wuss." 

"I ran, too," Xander pointed out, but Spike waved him off. 

"You're a soddin' human. That was a Jlovean. If you didn't run, you'd have 
been lunch," Spike said. He dropped his chin and stared at his hands again. 
"Me, I used to purposely pick fights with 'em. 'Til this fucking chip..." 

Xander was silent a moment. What could he say to that? [What else?] "I'm 
sorry." The blond glanced at him with a raised brow. "Really," Xander 
continued. "Not that I'm not glad you're not eating me, but it's wrong what 
those pricks did to you." [What a nice little change of tune, Xander. Do 
you know any Dr. Demento?] 

Spike studied him for a very long moment, then gave him that tiny smile he'd 
come to adore. Xander almost fell out of the tree. [Hello! Balance, 
Xandersan. Just because Spike gave you that smile last night, then again 
after you kissed him at the movie... I kissed Spike!] 

Spike's hand shot out and caught Xander's as the brunette wobbled 
precariously for a second. Xander's heart sounded like a tympani in his 
ears. "Thanks," he breathed. "It's a long way down, and I'm easily 
bruisable." 

"You owe me," Spike said ominously. "I want your silence about what 
happened tonight." 

[He wants me to not talk about the kiss? I don't think that'll be a 
problem.] Xander nodded. "No sweat. My lips are, uh, [lips kissing soft 
nice] sealed." 

"All right, then." 

They fell into a semi-comfortable silence. A half-hour later, Xander 
realized he was still holding Spike's hand. 

And Spike was holding his in return. 

With a faint smile, Xander examined the hand lightly clasped with his. 
Spike's hand was slightly smaller and thinner, but definitely a man's hand, 
even with the chipped polish on his nails. Still, the texture of his hand 
belied the image of the human past Xander had created for the vampire. 
"What did you do when you were human?" he asked. 

"What do you mean?" Spike asked warily in return. He started to pull away, 
but Xander held fast. 

"Just curious," Xander replied. "Your hands are smooth and scarless." He 
ran his fingers over the back of Spike's left hand, then turned it over to 
lightly caress the palm. "And you have no callouses, except for right 
here," he rubbed his thumb against the side of Spike's middle finger, 
"indicating that you held a pen a lot." 

"Do you read tea leaves, too, Madame Harris?" 

"No," Xander shook his head, his fingers still stroking Spike's hand. "I'm 
just strangely fascinated by people's hands. Look at mine." He laid his 
other hand on top of the blond's, palm up. "I have a ridge of callouses 
from gripping stakes and other weapons. All these scars are from helping 
Buffy, or from injuring myself at the many oh-so-exciting jobs I've held. 
And this complete lack of pen- bump tells you how much I actually did in 
school." 

Xander turned his hand over, effectively sandwiching Spike's left hand 
between both palms. "Well, Mr. Vampire?" he prompted. "What did you do 
before you became the beast you are today?" 

An expression flashed across Spike's face, one of those that Xander was 
familiar with, but thought he'd never see on another person, let along 
Spike. One that read: 'I'm twelve years old and got caught wearing 
Spiderman Underoos.' [Which wasn't my fault! They were the only clean ones 
I had!] 

Then Spike smirked, a completely self-depreciating one that Xander himself 
wore fifty percent of the time. "William Barstow, Assistant Librarian, at 
your service," the blond said in an accent that sounded nothing like his 
own. The smirk grew more self-disparaging, and his accent returned to 
normal. "Actually, Assistant Assistant Librarian. My head was in the 
bloody clouds too often to receive a higher position. Too much time spent 
searching for afflatus, not enough time spent archiving books." 

"Funny, you don't read a lot," Xander commented. "I thought that was a 
pre-requisite. Giles is a librarian, and his nose is always in a book." 

One of Spike's shoulders lifted and he looked away. "Lost my reading 
glasses over a century ago. Haven't bothered to pick up another pair." 

"Maybe we'll fix that," Xander said softly, turning to look out between the 
branches of the willow tree. A frown appeared between his brows. "What's 
'afflatus?'" 

"A poet's inspiration." 

"You were a poet, too?" 

"A bad one," Spike replied. "A very, very bad one." 

Xander looked at him with excitement. "Do you know a rhyme for orange?" 

"Door hinge." 

The brunette's mouth fell open. He was completely and totally agog. Spike 
chuckled and leaned over to push Xander's mouth closed, but the vampire 
over-extended himself and began to lose his balance. 

[Yikes!] In a move Xander doubted he could ever repeat, he grabbed Spike and 
hoisted the blond across his lap, turning Spike so his feet were where he'd 
been sitting and his bottom cradled between Xander's thighs. [I have Spike 
in my lap. Hmm.] "Woah, careful there, Spike. Falling out of a tree made 
of wood isn't something I'd recommend for you to do," he said. He 
snickered. "Hey, look, I'm a poet, too." 

Spike blinked owlishly, his face inches from Xander's, his mouth parted 
slightly in surprise. Xander waited for the blond to get his royal vampire 
feathers ruffled, or to laugh at him for his pathetic joke. He waited a bit 
longer. And he waited a little more. [Okay, Spike, any time now.] But 
Spike did nothing. 

[Hmm, what to do. I have a Spike in my lap, with Spike lips within kissing 
distance.] Xander's arm tightened around Spike's waist. [Well, heck, what 
else is there to do?] 

Airily, Xander's lips glided over Spike's in a gentle question. When the 
blond didn't pull away, Xander returned for a sample of what was between 
those soft, parted lips. Spike tasted like popcorn, sugar, and a 
bittersweet shyness that Xander would never have associated with him. 

Xander slowly broke the kiss, opened his eyes, and saw that tiny smile that 
turned his insides to mush. [I am in so much trouble.] Spike opened his 
eyes then, seemed to blush, and ducked his head. He shifted uncomfortably 
and his hands fluttered in his lap. 

"I think it's safe enough to go home now," Xander said quietly, not wanting 
to increase the blond's adorable bashfulness. "Careful going down." 

Xander let go, and waited patiently for Spike to start climbing down the 
tree. Once the vampire was out of sight, the brunette dropped his head in 
his hands and groaned softly. "What the hell am I doing?" 


End