by Maggie


The creature moved slowly and quietly, stalking her prey. Although she was young, she had quickly mastered the skills she needed to come upon her target unawares. Crouching down, focused intently on her goal, body quivering with energy, she paused for a moment before leaping sky-high onto her perch.

“Bloody hell!” Spike bellowed.

Startled, Xander turned, ready to defend his mate from attack. What he saw made him duck his head to hide the grin desperately trying to break out. Hanging from Spike’s upper arm, claws firmly embedded in T-shirt and muscle, was Spot. The kitten had apparently not quite mastered the ability to gauge heights, her attempt to leap Spike in a single bound having fallen a bit short.

Taking a breath and willing himself not to laugh, Xander went to Spike and took hold of the little cat. “Easy, Spot. Let go of Spike. There’s a good kitty,” he crooned as he gently removed her from his lover.

“Good kitty my arse,” Spike muttered. “That’s the third time I’ve had its claws in me today.”

“She has good taste.”

“She probably tastes pretty good too. Give her here.”

“No, no and no.” Xander cuddled the kitten closer to him and half turned away from Spike. “No draining Spot. Would the chip even let you do that?”

“Probably only give me a little zap. Not much to her, is there? One little bite, a few swallows and she’d be ready to take on her next life.”

Xander looked at him sternly. “You are *not* going to drain Spot.”

Spike shook his head, turning back to the show he was half watching on the television. They had come across the bedraggled, orange bit of fur while on patrol three nights ago. It was raining, of course, and the plight of the miserable looking creature had gone straight to Xander’s heart. Being something of a stray himself, it didn’t surprise Spike that Xander had rescued it and brought it home. What had surprised him a little was his decision to keep it.

“Why’d you name it Spot, anyway? What kind of a name is that for a striped cat?”

Xander sat in the armchair, still sheltering Spot from the big, bad vampire. “Data named his cat Spot and it looked just like her.”

“Oh bloody hell. Could my life get any more pathetic?” Spike groaned, dropping his head dramatically onto the back of the couch. “A hundred and twenty years. For a hundred and twenty years I was the most feared vampire on the face of the earth. The right hand of the Scourge of Europe. William the Bloody. Sires used my name to keep their fledges in line. And now? Now I’m in love with a geek. A sodding, mortal geek.”

Xander snorted. “Who’s calling who a geek here? I seem to recall you liking to play ‘Riker and Picard go to Risa’.”

“And I seem to recall you liking to play ‘Riker teaches Wesley to be a man’,” Spike said, leering at his partner.

Xander blushed and squirmed a little in his seat.

“Oh, commander,” Spike said in a high voice. “I’ve been on the bridge again without permission. Are you going to spank me?”

Xander blushed a little more and dropped the cat out of his lap, getting up and going to the kitchen. Spike could hear the rapid beat of Xander’s heart and the smell the delicious scent of his lover’s arousal. He heard him come up behind him, but had to stifle a yelp when a cold beer pressed against his neck instead of the warmth of Xander’s mouth, which he’d expected. Must be going senile, he thought to himself. Can hear his bloody heartbeat, but not the refrigerator door opening.

Sliding the beer down Spike’s chest, Xander leaned down to whisper in his ear. “What about you? You seem to have a real fetish for ‘Riker and Picard in the ready room on the desk’.” He dropped his head to lay a kiss on skin even cooler than normal. “Well, Number One,” Xander imitated Jean-Luc as best he could. “Engage all-bloody- ready!”

Turning his head to catch Xander’s mouth in a kiss, Spike grinned. “You do make a damn fine Commander, luv.”


Later that night, Xander snuggled as close as physically possible to Spike under the covers. “This is my favorite time of day, you know that?” he said.

“Yeah?” Spike asked, smirking. “Why’s that, exactly?”

“I know you think it’s because we usually have sex, and that’s good. Sex with you is definitely good.”

“I’m so glad you approve,” Spike said dryly.

“But it’s more than that. I like being out with you. Watching all the girls, and not a few guys, drool over you and knowing that you’re all mine. That no matter what anyone says, you’re going home with me.”

“Too right,” Spike said and tightened his arms around his lover.

“And I even like watching you wind up Buffy sometimes. Or make comments to Giles that have him wondering whether to smirk or smack you.” Spike gave a little chuckle. “But when we get home, when we finally get here… I love having sex with you Spike. But lying in our bed, in your arms, knowing that you love me – it’s the only place I ever really want to be. This is home.”

“Ah, love.” Spike nuzzled into his boy’s hair, kissing him, hands stroking up and down his back. He moved down, covering Xander’s face in delicate, tender kisses as he slowly rolled his lover onto his back. Settling himself on the warm body beneath him, he continued to murmur words of love as he slowly, gently began to move against him.

Xander, as always, was lost in the beauty and passion of the creature who shared his bed. It never ceased to amaze him how completely Spike could concentrate on him, often not even allowing Xander to reciprocate. Spike had entwined his hands with Xander’s, holding them still. The only touches were Spike’s mouth covering him in kisses and Spike’s hips in a slow grind against his own. Lost in a haze of arousal, it took Xander a moment to realize that the words being spoken against his skin had switched from endearments to obscenities and that the growl he heard wasn’t exactly one of arousal.

“Spike? Spike are you ok?”

“Bloody *fucking* hell. I’m gonna drain that sodding little beast so dry it’ll mummify on the spot.”

Xander opened his eyes and looked up at his lover. Peering over Spike’s shoulder was Spot, happily kneading his back with her sharp little claws and purring.

“Um….” Xander faltered, once again trying desperately not to smile.

“Even Angelus at his worst never shagged with animals walking over him. It’s unnatural.”

“Says the vampire,” Xander replied, starting to lose the battle with the smile.

“Get that bloody thing off me, Xan.” Spike said quietly.

“She’s lonely, Spike. Probably just wanted some company or something. Don’t kittens sleep together in a heap?”

“Loneliness is something you two are going to have in common if you don’t get that thing off me right now.”

One glance at his face convinced Xander that Spike was, indeed, very serious. Xander wriggled out from under Spike, trying not to jostle him in case the kitten dug in even deeper to keep her balance. Feeling Spike tense even further and mutter blood-soaked death threats assured Xander that he hadn’t been successful.

Cat safely outside the closed bedroom door, Xander returned to his very annoyed boyfriend. “There,” he said with forced optimism. “Cat gone and we can return to our regularly scheduled programming.”

Spike lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“C’mon Spike. I promise to remember to shut the door from now on.” Still nothing. “We're in our favorite place, where we show how much we love each other,” he tried. Still nothing. A different approach was clearly needed. Rolling onto his side and sliding closer to his lover, he began to trace his fingers over Spike's chest, using the light, barely there touches he knew Spike loved. Carefully avoiding the vampire's nipples, Xander brought his lips to that perfectly sculptured face. Kissing that beautiful face and neck, whispering of his love, Xander noticed life returning to his partner's flagging erection. But the pout stubbornly remained. “Just think, Spike. After all these years, you’ve finally out-kinked the great Angelus,” Xander teased, and with that, he swooped down and bit Spike’s nipple. Not too hard, just hard enough to make his lover gasp.

For all that he wanted to make Xander suffer for bringing that animal into their home, Spike couldn’t resist. He was only 120, after all. Rolling his partner over fast enough to get an “eep” in protest, the blond grinned down at his mate and said, “There are a lot more interesting ways to out-kink Angelus.” And then proceeded to show him. The mewing of the forlorn kitten unable to penetrate the haze of lust and love in the room.


“But why do we have to keep it?”

With a sigh, Xander once again reflected on the truism that no one, but no one, pestered like Spike. “Because she’s ours, Spike. We found her and brought her here and fed her and now she’s ours. We have an obligation to take care of her.” He wasn’t sure that was the best tactic to use at the moment, but Spike did have a thing about honoring promises.

“We? *We* found her?” Spike turned to Xander in mock amazement. “Oh no, luv. *You* found her and brought her into *our* house without so much as a ‘Spike, do you mind’. You may feel an obligation to that little beast, but not me. All she’s ever done for me is draw blood and interrupt perfectly good shagging time.” He dropped into the armchair with a snort. Xander could hear him muttering under his breath from the kitchen. “Oh fine. Bring another blood sucker into the house. Just what we need. Let’s poke Spike fulla holes – that’ll be great sport.” Spike raised his voice. “You realize that if that bloody cat could hold a stake I’da been dust several times already.” Xander shook his head and continued to peruse the cupboards for likely dinner components.

Realizing that Spike had stopped grumbling, Xander poked his head into the living room to see what had distracted him. Spot, seemingly unaware of how tenuous a thread her continued existence hung on, had jumped onto Spike’s legs. She rubbed her whole body up against his chest, her head dropping to nudge against his hand. When he finally moved to pet her, she curled herself into his lap purring furiously. Spike looked up at Xander with a smile that spelled defeat.

“Well, then. What’s for dinner?”





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