Stray Cat Strut

The cold fingers had slipped in under his collar - were pressing just a little at the nape of his neck.  Xander twisted his head, trying to see what the hell was going on and caught Spike staring straight at him.  It was not…nice.  Suddenly Angel grabbed Xander's head and pushed it down, yanking his collar back and exposing his neck to Spike's fangs - inviting Spike to bite him.

Cat's Eyes

Xander can see the marks on his neck; scratch marks, a bruise - a bruise along one impossibly high and sharp-edged cheekbone.  Xander sucks in a small, sympathetic breath and can't stop his finger from going out and touching the bruise, pressing ever so lightly, and Spike pushes into the touch, just a little.  Spike's fingers on his hip, rubbing.
      "That fucker."  Xander murmurs, and they both know who he means.

Cat's Cradle

      "I hate my life," he muttered.
      "Really, pet?"  That voice, out of the blue, and Xander feels his heart just stop - stop, and sit in his chest for a moment like lead.  And then start pounding again, fast, hard, and painful, so painful.   It hurts so much, in fact, that Xander feels tears prickle in his eyes, and he closes them for a moment - looks up to find the source of that voice. 

Cat and Mouse

The vampire held him easily, one arm around his throat, just pressing enough, one around his ribs, squeezing just a little.  Xander struggled, kicking backwards, but his sneakers connected only with the air and he was rapidly tiring, his oxygen cut off and a roaring in his ears.
      "Now pet - no passing out.  Wanna be sure you feel all of this…"

Year of the Cat

      "Yeah.  She's a god, Spike.  Hellgod.  She wants something that - that Buffy's got.  She thought - I had it.  So...this."  The hand has stopped altogether, and Xander opens his eyes - looks up at the profile that's limned in the glow from the hallway.  Dark eyes on his and they flare for a moment, lambent gold and then human again, and Xander shivers just a little.  Spike's hand slides weightlessly down his arm - skips over the I.V. and the long fingers are twining with his, squeezing gently.

Cat Scratch

"Oh, I fuckin' get it, Xander.  You think if you can bring her back - bring her home - it'll all be all right again - it'll all be just like it was before.   It's never gonna be that way again, Xander!  She's dead, and you couldn't have stopped it and you can't change it.  She's gone."  Xander is shaking his head, pressing his fists to his ears and Spike reaches out and tries to pull his arm down.  And Xander lashes out - claws at him like a cat...

All Cats Are Leopards
After Dark

     "I -" Xander sighs - twists a little - and Spike knows what he's doing - where he's looking.  Over at the wall, and the chains, and the spatter of faded blood across the stone.  Spike kisses Xander's temple and slides his hand up under his shirt, trailing his nails lightly up his boy's spine, making him shudder.
     "You what, love?   Need something tonight?"

Kitten Poker

Old, faded, tight, and worn jeans - over nothing but skin.  White wife-beater, ratty old hi-tops.  Silken-brown hair tangled just past his shoulders.  He looks like some sort of ad for expensive men's cologne, or maybe for an escort service.  He looks utterly delicious, and Spike can't wait to taste him.  But first, he has a game to win.

Curiosity Killed The Cat

     "Oh fuckin' yeah.  You weren't around, last time - it's like drinking liquid cocaine, pet - like meth straight to my veins."  He's already hard, already wanting and Xander threads his hand back through Spike's hair - wrenches his head over and bites, gleefully.
     "Guess I'm in for a long night, huh?" he purrs into Spike's ear, and they go back to the hotel, eager to ride this blood's high, forgetting the half-dead Slayer lying crumpled by the sidewalk.  Bad odds for her making it through the night but they don't really care.





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