A very butch female. That's what Spike looked like wearing a suit and tie.
[Not that I will ever say that out loud,] Xander thought, straightening the
knot in his own dark brown tie. It was Tuesday, the night of the first of
two formal dinners on board the ship, and both men were wearing their nicest
clothes. This was the first time they'd dressed up on the trip. The other
nights, Xander had chosen to forgo the seated dinners in favor of room
service or buffet meals, more for Spike's comfort than anything. Although
the formal dinner was dressier than usual, sport coats were still required
during the regular sit-down meals, and the vampire hated to dress up.
[I can see why.] Xander cast a sidelong glance at his boyfriend, who was
working to untie a knot in the lace of his black wingtips. Spike was
definitely not the suit type. Jeans, tee-shirts, long-sleeved tees, and the
occasional button-down shirts were all good. Just wearing boxers was
better. Naked was always the best. [Oh, yeah.] The suit, however, made
Spike look... girly. The Big Bad had been replaced by the Big Fag. [Nope,
I will never, ever, *ever* say that out loud.]
"Xanderrrr," Spike whined. "I can't get this bleedin' knot out."
Xander turned, held up his hands, and caught the shoe that was tossed to
him. Spike, luckily, was not putting up a stink about having to attend the
formal dinner. They'd been alternating nights on who chose what activities
to do, and it was Xander's turn to pick. So far, they'd seen a comedian,
the jugglers, and had been to a few of the dance clubs. The Jazz club had
the best atmosphere for relaxing and conversing with other couples on board,
and that's where Xander and Spike usually ended the night.
All the nights so far had been fun. The days, however, had been *awesome.*
As the sun came up, Xander and Spike would slip into sleep, snuggled
together beneath the covers in the single queen- sized bed.
The first day they'd had to share the bed had been awkward, and they'd
started off laying rigidly on opposite sides of the bed. By mid-morning, it
was impossible to tell where Xander ended and Spike began. And Xander liked
it that way. [Changes *will* be taking place at home.]
Daily thus far, Spike awoke at the same time as Xander, mumbled a hello, sat
up and leaned against the headboard, turned on the television, and promptly
fell back to sleep. Xander usually left the cabin then and spent an hour or
two on deck, giving his boyfriend ample time to fully awaken. Then, after
Xander returned to the cabin, he and Spike spend the remainder of the
daytime in bed doing naughty touching stuff. Very pleasurable naked naughty
touching stuff. But no sex. [Wah.] Not that sex was the be all-end all of
a relationship. Xander wanted simply to connect with Spike in the most
primitive, intimate way.
[Uh-huh. Right. Face it, Harris, the fluffy feelings of wanting to connect
have long since passed. Now, you just want to nail that virgin ass.]
Xander managed to untie the knot in Spike's laces and tossed the shoe back
to the blond. He gave the vampire a once over, taking in the charcoal grey
suit, white shirt, and deep red and grey striped tie. [Yep, he's gay.]
Xander chuckled silently, tugged on the sleeves of his own dark brown suit,
and pocketed his wallet and the room key. He struck a pose. "How do I
look?"
"Like a talking chocolate bar."
"Goof," Xander laughed. He opened the cabin door and gestured grandly.
"After you, Mrs. Xander Harris."
Spike rudely saluted, but bussed Xander on the cheek as he passed. Smiling
happily, Xander closed the cabin door, and the two made their way to the
formal dining room.
The dining room was rich in color, both burgundies and gold. Crisp white
tablecloths covered the tables scattered around the room. Tea candles
flickered in the low lighting, casting romantic shadows. The low murmur of
mostly male voices was underscored by the faint strains of classical
orchestral music from the string quartet playing in the corner.
A uniformed host greeted them just inside the glass double-doors etched with
frosted flowers. Xander rested his hand on Spike's lower back as he gave
the host his name and, with a gently guiding push, escorted his boyfriend to
their table. Interested male glances were cast their way as they wove
through the dining room, most of them directed at Spike despite his girlish
appearance. Or maybe because of. Xander shot a black look at the most
blatant oglers, growling under his breath. [My girly vampire.]
The host seated them at a four-person table, indicating that they would be
joined by another couple. Xander nodded politely to the host, pulled out a
chair, unbuttoned his dark brown suit coat, and sat. He'd purposely chosen
his seat so Spike would take the chair by the wall and no one would be able
to get to him. [Grr. Mine.] A waiter appeared at Xander's elbow to take
drink orders and left again.
"Well, hi!" An overly-enthusiastic twang sliced through the quiet atmosphere
of the dining room, earning startled glares. Xander stared as two rather
large, pale men, wearing identical rhinestone- studded suites with fringe,
took the chairs opposite him and Spike. "I'm Rick," the jowly grey- haired
man on the left announced, "and my devilishly handsome companion is Steven."
Steven giggled and waved.
"Uh... hi," Xander said slowly. He glanced at Spike. The vampire was
staring at the newcomers like they were a pair of cute, fluffy puppies. [I
haven't seen him look that disgusted since we were forced to watch 'Pippi
Longstocking' with Willow and Tara.] "I'm Xander, and this is Spike."
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Rick twanged. He looked past Xander and
boomed, "Can we get us a couple of Schlitz brewskies over here?"
"Rick, use your inside voice," Steven scolded, his own voice soft, but
extremely deep.
"Sorry, dear," Rick apologized, patting Steven's chubby pale hand. He
smiled jovially at Xander and Spike. "Sometimes I forget my manners, but
Steven always reminds me of them."
The waiter brought the beers along with Xander and Spike's drinks. He
informed the table that the meal would begin after the Captain made a toast.
"The Captain says the same thing every time," Steven confided, old brown
eyes crinkling in the corners.
"You've been on this cruise before?" Xander asked, relaxing with his drink.
If he had to sit with Boss Hogg and a white Barry White, he might as well
make the best of it.
"Six times," Rick replied, ringed fingers wrapping around his beer glass.
"Steven and I came on the cruise for our twelfth anniversary and had such a
good time we've come every year since."
"Cool." Xander covered Spike's hand with his own. "This is our first trip."
Steven beamed. "How do you like it?"
"So far, so fun," Xander said. He frowned slightly when Spike yanked his
hand away. The vampire was ignoring Xander, though, sipping his drink and
looking around the dining room.
Xander continued to chat politely with Rick and Steven until the clink of a
spoon against a glass halted further conversation. The dining room quieted.
Xander half-turned in his chair to see the Captain as he made his toast.
Out of the corning of his eye, Xander saw Steven and Rick silently mouthing
along. A grin curled the corners of the brunette's lips. [I wonder if
that'll be me and Spike in six years. If so, shoot me now.]
Dinner was a multi-course affair, and really damn good, in Xander's opinion.
Conversation ebbed and flowed as he and his table companions stuffed their
faces. Xander was thoroughly enjoying himself. Spike, however, Xander
noticed, was becoming more and more tense with every scrape of a fork. His
replies to queries - when he chose to reply at all - were short, blunt
answers. His movements were precise and controlled. He finished his drinks
as rapidly as they arrived at the table.
"Oh, I was devastated when I heard," Steven was saying dramatically. "Tom
and Nicole looked so good together."
"Rumor has it their marriage was a sham," Xander said, "and that he's a
fruity as a bag of skittles."
Rick laughed. "That would make thousands of gay men everywhere quite
happy."
"If you like them short, dark, and boyish," Steven interjected. He laid a
hand over Rick's. "I prefer my men more distinguished."
"In other words, you like old farts like me," Rick teased.
"Not old...," Steven winked at Xander, "... well-preserved."
"That's it." Spike stood abruptly, tossed his cloth napkin on the table,
and stalked from the dining room without another word.
Xander, with forkful of green beans halted partway to his open mouth, stared
dumbly at Spike's retreating back until the frosted glass doors closed
behind him. [Huh?] The brunette blinked twice and lowered his fork.
"Boy, someone isn't happy," Rick commented, craning his neck to look behind
him. "I wonder what crawled up his craw."
"Me, too." Xander wiped his mouth, deposited his napkin beside his plate,
and stood. "Excuse me."
Xander left the dining room in search of Spike. He checked the cabin first,
then the various places Spike had vocally approved of. It took almost an
hour, but Xander finally found the blond on the forward deck, hands braced
on the guardrail, looking out over the dark ocean. There were other couples
on deck, enjoying the romantic atmosphere, but Xander noted they made a wide
berth around the vampire.
Xander walked up beside Spike and put his hand on the blond's back. "Hey,
there. I've been looking all over for you."
Spike's head whipped around, and he snarled, "Shove off. I want to be alone
."
Xander reared back, dropping his hand quickly. [Woah. Crabby vampire.]
"Sorry," he placated. "I was just wondering if something was wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," Spike growled and returned his gaze to the ocean.
"Nothing, my ass." Xander was feeling suicidal and decided to push. [Must
be the funeral clothes.] "You've been acting snippy ever since we sat down
for dinner."
"You mean, when you sat down to dinner." Spike's fingers clenched on the
rail. "I sat down *with* dinner."
"Um... what?" Xander didn't understand.
"I'm a bloody *vampire*, Xander, or did you forget that?"
"Uh, no, I haven't forgotten," Xander said tentatively, unsure of the
correct answer.
Spike released a frustrated sigh, still staring out over the ocean.
"Sometimes I really miss Dru. She would've understood."
[Ow.] Xander staggered a step as the word-spear pierced his heart. He
turned to the water, grasping the guardrail in a white-knuckled grip. [Not
gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry...]
"Cor, I can practically taste the blood, spiced with adrenaline and fear,"
Spike continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was shredding
Xander's heart. "Dru and I would've feasted in that dining room. Ruined
all those pretty frocks and suits."
Xander blinked rapidly as his vision blurred. [...not gonna cry, not gonna
cry, not gonna cry...]
"We would've had a ball on this cruise," Spike said wistfully. "A week of
violence and death; Dru dancing under the stars like a dark goddess; locked
in a cabin, shagging all day. Her needing me to hide the bodies. Her
needing me to stop her from trying to swim with the fish. Her needing me to
keep her from killing the humans who knew how to operate the ship. Her
needing me to fulfill all her whims."
"Why did you let her go?" Xander croaked past the knot in his throat. "She
wanted you back, in Sunnydale."
"That she did," Spike agreed, and fell silent.
[I'd thought we'd already settled this, with Drusilla. I guess I was
wrong.] Xander was getting Indian Burn on his palms from gripping the rail
so hard. His jaw was set, teeth clenched tightly to stop from asking
questions he didn't want to hear the answers to. His eyes were watering,
but he refused to allow the tears to fall.
"Xan..." A pale hand covered his tan one. "It was too much for me, sitting
with the very humans that I'm supposed to eat. I tried, but..."
"Why did you even bother?" Xander grated out, slanting a look at Spike.
"It's your night to choose," Spike replied with a shrug, lightly tracing the
bumps and dips of Xander's tense knuckles.
Xander turned his head and stared at the smaller man in confused shock.
"That's it?"
Spike frowned. "Er, yes? We agreed to switch off picking what to do,
complaints not allowed." He shrugged again. "Right, so I sort of broke that
rule, but I'm evil and I do those things. At least I tried, eh?"
Xander gaped at him. A minute ago, Spike was bemoaning his Drusilla-less
state, and now he was... he was... Xander had no idea what Spike was saying.
"But... what about Drusilla?"
"What about her?" Now Spike seemed confused.
"You just said you wished she was here with you," Xander said, starting to
get angry. He fully turned to face the blond.
Spike looked put out. "No, I said she'd understand."
"Same thing."
The vampire stared at him a moment, then smirked. "You're jealous."
Xander glowered. "Am not."
"You are," Spike said with a pleased chuckle. "You don't need to be,
Xander."
"I'm not jealous; I'm pissed as hell. If you wanted to be with someone who
'understood,'" Xander sneered, complete with air quotes, "then why the heck
didn't you go with Drusilla when you had the chance?"
"Didn't we have this effin' conversation already?" Spike tugged at the knot
in his tie. "Told you, I loved *you*, git."
"Why?"
Spike's brows furrowed. "Why what?"
"Why do you love me?" Xander stared hard at the blond. "I'm not a vampire.
I don't 'understand' your desire for death and destruction. I'm basically
food in a walking package. A talking chocolate bar, right?"
"You're *not* food." Spike grabbed Xander forcibly by the arms. Ice blue
eyes glittered in the deck's dim light. "You're... sunlight and laughter
and warmth. You're safety. I can suck my thumb when I need to without
worrying about my image or status. I can come home seriously injured and I
know you'll patch me up. I can act like the scared little virgin boy I am,
rather than having to be Mr. 'Seen-All, Done-All, I'm-Not-Impressed.' With
you, I don't have to be a master vampire. I can just... be."
Tears filled Xander's eyes again, only this time not in hurt or anger.
"Xander," Spike continued, his voice dropping, though it was no less
intense. "Drusilla needed me, but you *love* me. And for that, I'd chose
you every time." He dropped his hands, cleared his throat, and looked
decidedly embarrassed. "Now, are we done with the subject?"
Xander's smile was trembly. "We're done. Insecure womanly feelings
reassured."
"Good." The vampire looked around and, apparently satisfied, snagged
Xander's tie, yanked him down, and planted a hard, possessive kiss on his
lips.
Soft clapping roused Xander from his kiss-induced stupor. He blinked
several times and the world refocused. Spike was looking at someone to
their left [don't look at them, look at me.] When Spike didn't listen to his
silent order, Xander sighed a small, unhappy sigh at the interruption and
turned to look, too. It was Rick and Steven, the Rhinestone Cowboys from
dinner. [Joy.]
"You two are so precious," Steven declared. He waves his ringed hand.
"Don't they remind you of us when we were newlyweds, Rick?"
"Sure do," Rick replied. "You can almost see the love in the air."
"I bet you can taste it in their blood, too," Steven said eagerly. "Shall
we find out?"
"That sounds like a right good idea," Rick agreed. He and Steven looked at
each other, smiled evilly, and... sprouted facial ridges and fangs.
Xander and Spike burst out laughing, and Xander continued to laugh as the
blond slid into gameface and threw a surprised Rick and Steven overboard.
The brunette laughed as they made their way off the deck and through the
passageways to their cabin. He laughed as he locked the door and laughed as
he stripped Spike out of his very un-Spike-like suit.
Then, Xander was much too busy moaning to laugh.
Part Three: Cliched Romance
Xander was nervous. A sweaty palms-type of nervousness that had him also
sniffing his pits every few seconds. It was ridiculous. Spike already
loved him, declared so with blunt floweriness three nights back. It also
wasn't as if Xander had never given Spike gifts before, be it clothing or
candy or music. [Yeah, but those didn't have the words "Happy Anniversary"
attached.]
A year ago tonight, they'd first kissed, and Xander's life hadn't been the
same since. He had a good job, made decent money both there and with Anya's
investing, and was in a long-term monogamous relationship with another male.
He and Spike had weathered a robbery by a juvenile delinquent, the chip,
Drusilla, the whole 'vampire' thing with his friends, and Spike's inane
shyness. It was worth celebrating their first full year together,
considering they lived on the Hellmouth and fought demons as a hobby.
[That's why the gift. Gifts are good. Gifts are appropriate. Gifts give
purpose to wrapping paper.]
Xander continued to pace nervously in the small cabin. Would Spike like the
gift? Would he laugh? Would he think Xander was a doof for assuming he
would care about their anniversary? Would Xander throw up from nervousness
and die of humiliation right after, rendering Spike's reaction to the gift
moot? [Tune in, folks, and find out!] Xander laughed self-deprecatingly.
[That's it. I need a drink.]
The brunette knocked on the door, opened it, and poked his head inside the
bathroom. The room was filled with steam, billowing from over the shower
curtain. Xander raised his voice to be heard over the running water.
"Spike, I'm going down to The Jazz Club. Meet me there?"
The shower curtain twitched, and a wet head peeked out from behind it.
"Where?" Spike asked.
"The Jazz Club," Xander repeated.
Spike nodded and vanished again. Xander retreated quickly, closing the
bathroom door firmly before his libido caught on to what he'd seen. [Wet.
Naked. Spike. GUH.]
Xander checked his pocket for the billionth time to make certain he still
had the jewelry box. The velvety cover to the box was matted from his
sweaty hands. He probably rusted the hinges shut, and therefore Spike
wouldn't be able to open it and Xander's humiliation would increase... and
he really needed that drink.
The Jazz Club, as it was appropriately named, was slowly filling with
patrons as the sun fully set. Small round tables were scattered around the
club, each with a tiny lamp in the center of the table. A long, dark wooden
bar ran the length of the wall furthest from the paneled entry doors. On
the raised stage a band was already playing, one of several acts that would
perform as the night wore on. The low lighting added to the relaxed
atmosphere and soft conversation.
Xander nodded a greeting to several of the club's guests he'd met on
previous occasions. They were regulars, like he and Spike, who enjoyed the
quiet tone of the club. After a full week of being at sea, he, Spike, and
many of the others found that the club was a comfortable alternative to the
other venues.
Xander chose a seat at the bar and ordered his usual 'I'm having a panic
attack' drink from the bartender. "Dr. Pepper, please. Light on the ice."
The brunette chugged half the dark, fizzy cola as soon as the drink arrived.
[Ah. Alcohol for the non-drinkers. How your taste does soothe me.] Xander
rolled his eyes. He was losing it. Maybe he'd already had too much
caffeine today. [How your taste does soothe me?]
"Xander, hi." Xander turned as a familiar dark-haired, green-eyed man took
the stool beside him. "It's Greg, remember?"
"I certainly do," Xander said with a welcoming smile. "Did you ever find
another not-so-broken heart?"
"No," Greg winked, "but that orgy on Monday night definitely made up for
it."
Xander laughed as Greg signaled the bartender. "I'm sorry I missed it."
"I'm sorry, too," Greg flirted back, green eyes twinkling devilishly. "You
could have brought your boyfriend. The more who came meant the more who
came."
Xander groaned at the bad pun. "I'm sure fun was had without us." [Besides,
Spike at an all-male sextravaganza? SNORT.]
"Speaking of," Greg glanced past Xander at the empty seat beside him, "where
is this bombshell that would keep a healthy man from a night of wild
hot-monkey sex?"
"Spike will be here soon," Xander replied, trying to keep the wistful sigh
at bay. [I miss wild hot- monkey sex. I miss sex, period. But I am Patient
Man and will not force Spike to let me
holdhimdownandfuckhimuntilhiseyesbleedandhescreamsmynameasIfillhisinsideswit
hmycome.]
"Are you okay?" Greg asked with concern. "You're looking very tense all of a
sudden."
"I'm fine," Xander rasped. He drained the remainder of his Dr. Pepper and
signaled for another. "I'm just, uh, nervous. Today is Spike and my
anniversary."
"Ah, I see." Greg slapped him on the shoulder. "First one, huh?"
Xander nodded, dug out the jewelry box from his pocket, and stared forlornly
at it. "I got him a gift. I can't decide if it's romantic or overly
cheesy."
Greg plucked the box from Xander's hand and opened it. Nestled inside was a
silver and gold stick- figure pin of an angel and a devil standing
side-by-side, holding hands. "It's adorable," Greg declared.
"And Spike is such the cute and mushy type," Xander said sarcastically. He
thumped his forehead on the bar. "What was I thinking?"
"That you obviously have feelings for him and want to show it," Greg said
simply. He closed the box and handed it back to Xander. "Even if he
doesn't like it, he'll pretend he does and you'll get laid. That's how
anniversaries work."
"If you say so," Xander replied in disbelief, though he was leaning more
towards giving it to Spike now if getting laid was even a remote
possibility. [Extremely remote, but still a possibility.] He pocketed the
box.
Mr. Remote Possibility himself arrived a minute later, looking as sexy as
sin like always. Tonight's daring ensemble was a pocketed black tee-shirt
tucked into black jeans, but *without* the black duster.
"Hey, pet." Spike sidled up to the bar, wedging himself partially between
Xander and Greg. He gave Greg an unfriendly look. "Who's your friend?"
[Ooh, I think I hear jealousy! Cool!] Xander grinned and introduced the two
men. "Spike, this is Greg. Greg, my boyfriend, Spike."
"Nice to meet you," Greg said. He stood, picked up his drink, and said to
Xander, "I hate to greet and run, but I know you've got something personal
to give Spike."
"Thanks a lot," Xander said dryly, glaring at Greg as the man walked away.
He glanced at Spike, who was tapping his finger on the edge of the bar,
narrowed eyes focused on the Greg's retreating back. Was it too much to
hope that Spike may have missed what Greg last said?
"You have something for me?"
[Guess so.] "Yes, I do. But not here." Xander set down his drink, paid the
bartender, and guided Spike out of the club. He ignored the thumbs-up he
got from Greg as he passed by the green-eyed bastard.
The stars were twinkling brightly in the night sky above the Pacific as
Xander and Spike walked along the deck. The brunette chose a secluded area
by the closed pool and pointed to a chaise lounge. He sat sideways on the
lounge across from Spike, with their knees touching. Spike's face was easy
to read: it held question, a hint of nervousness, and a frown of worry
creasing his pale brow.
Xander gave him a tense half-smile. "Um, I wasn't going to do this until
later, if at all. Certainly not in such a cliched setting," he chuckled
nervously, "but Greg sort of forced my hand. Um, so here goes."
Xander once again removed the jewelry box from his pocket and extended it
towards Spike. "Happy anniversary. A year ago today we accidentally kissed
at the movie theater for the first time. Then I kissed you on purpose later
that night in the willow tree."
Spike's mouth parted in surprise. He blinked several times, took the box,
opened it, and stared blankly at its contents.
[Please like it, please like it, please like it...] Xander licked his lips
and continued in a rush. "I though you could pin it to the inside pocket of
your duster so it doesn't get lost when you fight. It's supposed to be us.
You know, angel: me, devil: you. Though I can see myself as a devil, too,
but they didn't have pins of two devils except for the ones in lewd
positions that caused *me* to blush, so I figured no." [Say something,
Spike, because I'm babbling here.] "If you don't like it, we can return it.
I kept the receipt. Willow always tells me to do that, and I did. So, we
can return it as soon as we get home. It was a dumb idea, anyway-"
"No, it was not a dumb idea," Spike said firmly. He closed the box and set
it on his knee, then reached into his shirt pocket and removed a folded
piece of stationary. Suddenly pink-cheeked, he thrust the paper at Xander.
"Here."
"What's this?"
"Just read it," Spike growled, eyes downcast.
Puzzled, Xander unfolded the paper and read it silently:
~~~
Xander-
Once I was a poet and would have known what pretty words to say. But I'm a
vampire now, so you're stuck with this:
The only thing I remember about that 'Gladiator' movie was that it was
playing when we first kissed exactly a year ago Friday.
It was the best damned flick I ever saw.
-Spike
~~~
"You remembered," Xander said, his voice rough with emotion. "I thought I
was just being girly."
"You are girly," Spike told him gruffly, one pale finger rubbing over the
pin in the box. "That's why I knew you'd like something to show that I did,
indeed, remember."
Xander wiped surreptitiously at his eyes. "Thanks." The word came out all
watery and definitely girly. Oh well. He was allowed to be emotional. It
was expected. It was his anniversary.
"Xander," Spike began softly, eyes still on the pin, "can we go back to the
cabin and j-just stay in tonight?"
Xander caught the stammer, and his heart tripped. He also didn't think he'd
ever seen that particular shade of red on Spike's cheeks. [Ho-boy.] The
brunette swallowed thickly, stood, and held out his hand in silent
invitation.
*****
The lights were on in the cabin, blazing brightly and leaving nowhere to
hide. The sheets were scratchy, starched stiff like linens in hotels. The
only music was ragged breaths and the sounds of other passengers shouting
and slamming doors in the hall.
But none of that mattered.
There was a look of wonder on Spike's face that Xander would remember
forever: blue eyes wide and vulnerable. Mussed white-blond hair falling
over his forehead. That silly blush staining his high cheekbones, and
kiss-bruised lips in a matching color.
No, Xander would never forget. The image was etched permanently in his
heart.
End
