The latest of the fabled Mr Lincoln’s houses was as different, yet equally as impressive, as each of the others; Xander walked about its rooms in dumbstruck awe that he could, with a single word, be living here with Spike.  Snazzy, yes, but not too large for two, and the interior was deceptively cosy in contrast to the stark, modernistic exterior.

“Not bad for a rental,” Spike joked as he waited for Xander’s decision with faux patience.  “Doesn’t have to be this, of course.  We can look at houses in town, if you like.”

After sleeping all afternoon, Xander appeared fit, healthy, as bright as a button.  Spike wanted to throw him onto the nearest sofa and have his wicked way, but…again with the faux patience.  Oblivious – well, almost – to the barely contained lust that was focused in his direction, Xander studied and considered and paced and actually made up his mind long before he decided to put Spike out of his misery.

“It seems to be quieter here.”

“I hoped it might be, away from the town.”

“I’m probably imagining it.”

“Didn’t you find that with the motels though?  The ones that were a bit more remote?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Lucky that I do then.”

“You so set this up,” Xander grinned.

“No.”  Xander stared a meaningful stare.  “Oh, all right, maybe I thought it was an option.  For you, though, for your peace of mind.”

“How were you going to convince me if I’d wanted to stay where I was and I hadn’t had audience issues?”

“I wasn’t going to convince you.  Like now: still don’t have your answer, do I?”

Xander leaned against the nearest wall and, once again, scrutinized his surroundings.

“Can you really afford this?  You know I can’t help out much.”

“Not a problem.”

“But if it means you going back to LA to work, and that means…”

“Don’t you worry.  Once Angel gets a reminder of being Spike-free, he’ll be paying me to stay away.”

“Good.  That’d be good.”

“So…?”

“You need me to make my mind up now?” Xander asked, playing at indecision and playing it very convincingly if the strain on Spike’s face was anything to go by.

“Take your time.  Big decision.”

“You like it, though?”

“I do.”

“What most?”

“You’d fuck me here?”

“I would.”

“That.  I like that most.”

Not fooled for a moment by Spike’s show of superficiality, Xander went and hugged him.

“’Kay.”

“Seriously?”

“I love it.”

Spike hugged Xander back, so tightly that he squeaked.

“One call and it’s ours.”

“Make the call, Baby.”

Xander returned to strolling as Spike made the call, and he could overhear it was an easy one filled with good humour rather than hard bargaining; the generous Mr Lincoln intrigued him, and he looked forward to meeting the man and shaking him by the hand.  Or whatever one shook that particular kind of demon by.  When Spike finally bounded into the kitchen to join Xander he quickly confirmed that the deal was struck.

“So…” Xander began, gazing at his shiny surroundings, “we did it.”

A reference to much more than the house and Spike knew it.

“Against all the odds,” the vampire added, taking Xander’s hands and drawing him close.  The desire had temporarily receded and what Xander saw when he looked into the sparkling blue eyes that were so attentively fixed on him was excitement.  Hope.  Adoration.  He imagined that Spike was seeing much the same.

“I’m so happy I’m scaring myself,” he confessed.

“That’s the spirit!” Spike laughed as he planted a smacker of a kiss on Xander’s cheek.  “What’s next then?  We start packing?”

“Next…  The Stokes’.”

“Ah.  That should be jolly.”

“You want to leave it for another day?”

“Nah.  I need to start persuading them that I’m here to be with you, not here to take you away from them.”

Spike linked Xander’s arm in his and guided them toward the door.

“I want my friends to like you, Spike, that’s very important to me.  So when you pretend to like them, I want you to pretend really well.”

“Not a problem, Love.”

“You think?”

“Thanks to Uund’d’tar, I’ve got six-and-a-half grand in my pocket.  You’d be surprised at how much goodwill that can buy.”

“They’re not that kind of people.”

“I admire your faith, I really do.  But when you have old ladies whinging about parking their bony arses on uncomfortable wooden seats, and the cash solution walks in the door, everyone is that kind of people.”

Halfway down the drive, and in perfect synchronicity, they stopped and turned back to look at the house.

“What do you think?” Spike asked as they studied the compact frontage, pristine white walls and blue stained glass that virtually glowed in the moonlight.  “Posh?  Or plain barmy?”

“Don’t know.  Don’t care.”  Xander put his arm around Spike and hugged him close.  “It’s home.”

…

At Xander’s direction, Spike drove a long, meandering route back into town.

“Why d’you need to put this off?”

“I’m not putting it off, I need a little more thinking time, that’s all.  They’re going to be shocked enough by the way I look, I don’t want to scare them any more by making it sound like I’m leaving them rather than just leaving the house.”

“I still have your patch,” Spike offered.  “Might make the timing a little easier.  Wear that and you can whip it off when everyone’s been primed.”

“Yeah,” Xander said thoughtfully.  Glumly.

“You want my advice?  Go for it.  No pretence, no pussy-footing.  Seems to me, the harder a fellow tries to get things right, the more inclined things are to go wrong.”

Xander considered.

“I think that might be just us.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh.  Right.”

“But no patch.  Okay.  Okay.”

Pause.

“You’ve not seen anyone at all since you’ve been home?”

“No, not yet.”

“Why?”

“I’ve spoken to them, but…  I asked to be left alone.  Asked,” Xander snorted, amazed by his own rudeness.  “I told them to back off.”  Spike glanced questioningly over.  “I needed time to…  I’ve been trying to get over you, to get used to the idea of people asking about you, especially after what I wrote in my letters.”  Spike bit his lip and kept quiet about the shouldn’t-have-been-mailed, Dead Xander letters.  “I didn’t want them to feel bad for me, and I wasn’t sure I could cover up how losing you had left me feeling.”

Xander reached across and squeezed Spike’s thigh, needing a solid reminder that this was real, that Spike was actually here.  Spike flexed his muscles beneath Xander’s clenched fingers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Spike promised him, leaving Xander wondering if he’d inadvertently spoken aloud of his need, or if he was simply too obvious for words.

“Except for LA,” Xander corrected.

“Would you not trample all over my sentimental gestures?”

“Sorry.  You’re not going anywhere.”

“Except for LA.”

Xander glared and Spike snickered.

“Are we moving before you go?” Xander asked.  “Or after you go…?”

“Up to you.”

“If it’s up to me, I think…I think it depends when you go.”

“When would you like me to go?”

“That’s up to me too?”

“Yep.”

“Then…go as soon as possible.  The sooner you go, the sooner you get back.  You said you’d be gone a couple days?”

“Something like that.”

“It would give me the chance to get packed up and ready to move.  It would also give me the chance to wrap my head around the fact that this is actually happening.”

“But if I leave you won’t look after yourself properly, and you’re still not entirely fit.”

“Two days, Spike.  I’ll be okay for two days.”

“Maybe I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Hey, c’mon, I’m…”

Spike angrily thumped the steering wheel.

“You died.  Remember?  I’m still trying to get over how bloody useless and helpless that makes me feel, so you’ll have to deal with me refusing to risk your wellbeing.”

Taken aback by Spike’s vehemence, Xander patted the vampire’s thigh until he looked over, clenched jawed and watery eyed.

“It’s okay, Baby,” Xander soothed.  “It’s okay, I’m okay.”  Spike swallowed hard and briskly nodded, turning his attention back to the road.  “I wasn’t dismissing your feelings over what happened, but…  I don’t want to feel weak either.”

Spike’s hand dropped onto Xander’s.

“Course you don’t.  Sorry.”

“We’ll heal.  Together.  We’ll be okay now we’re together.”

“Fucking hell, I am so embarrassed that I actively want to hear this namby-pamby rot from you.”

Xander’s turn to snicker; Spike’s turn to glare.

“Maybe you’re just pretending to in a bid to get laid,” Xander helped him out.

“Cling to that, can I?”

“Yes, you can.”

“When do I get laid?”

Xander shrugged.

“If my house is out of the question we’ll need to find a romantic little back alley and…”

“When we’re done at the Stokes’, we can nip over to yours for a few essentials and then go to the—  Then go home.  Christen the place.”

“Go home,” Xander repeated to himself, still not truly able to imagine the white house being theirs.  “Weird.”

“Not coming to your senses, are you?”

“No.  I mean…  Yes, that sounds like a good idea.  Maybe this will start feeling…real.”

Spike could appreciate that, but now he was on a promise, he turned his thoughts to what had to be endured before he could claim his prize.

“The chapel,” he said.  “How’s this going to play out?  Your friends will be happy to have you back but pissed off that I’m with you?”

“Happy to have me back and, hopefully, happy that I’m happy.”

“Will Medusa cry?”

“God, no.  H’ll cry.  And me, I’ll probably cry.”

“Any last words of advice?”

“With anyone else I’d say just be yourself.  But with you…that’s kinda what I’m afraid of.”

…

They paused for a moment outside the chapel: Xander ecstatic to be back but nervous nevertheless; Spike determined to make a success of the evening for Xander’s sake.  This very spot held certain memories, and Spike smiled as he recalled.

“This is where I came in.”

“And this is where I come out.  Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck, you have charm, talent, friends and me.”

“Damn it.  Gimme the patch.  You were right about timing.”  Spike reluctantly handed the patch over and Xander tugged it on.  “I hate this thing.”

“Don’t be like that.”  Xander looked irritably to Spike.  “Nowadays it’s too inconsequential to hate.  For a man, like yourself, with two eyes, it’s little more than playing pirate.  And I know you’ve done that, in fact, I think Anya might have mentioned…”

“Yes, okay, enough!  Thank you.  Inconsequential.  Okay.”

“You still have the rest of the outfit?”

“No,” Xander snapped.  Spike grinned wickedly and Xander relented.  “But it’s an easy one to make up.”

“Meanwhile it’s just as well that I nicked that white coat and stethoscope from Bunny, eh?”

“I don’t…” Xander frowned.

“What?  You can’t see the potential in having Doctor Spike call by to give you a thorough examination?”

Xander glazed over.

“Fuck.”

“Later though.”

“Fuck.”

“When we’re done here.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

…

Hugs and excitement greeted Xander once they were inside, and it took nearly half-an-hour to get past the front of house volunteers and into the auditorium, where they sat in the back row and watched Douglas at work.  The fact that the medium’s arm was out of plaster and apparently fully functional was a great relief to Xander, but made the uber-nasty’s violent attack on this quiet little place and its harmless inhabitants much harder to accept.  The start of this adventure had been horribly unbelievable and the end…  Xander glanced at Spike, who was as fascinated as ever by the readings and unaware of Xander’s attention.  The end was wonderfully unbelievable.

Xander took Spike’s hand and squeezed, being shot a happy smile before Spike turned straight back to hang on Douglas’ every word as he delicately picked through a very complicated and equally entertaining evidentiary statement.

Staring around the place, looking for nonexistent changes and seeing instead dozens of recognisable faces, Xander could feel the difference in himself.  The tranquillity that came from belonging to this particular community, a renewed faith in humanity engendered by being in the company of some of the kindest, most trusting people it had ever been his pleasure to meet.

“I love this place,” he murmured, and Spike distractedly rubbed his fingers.

He’d live and die here, and be happy to do so, even if it was the kind of uninspiring backwater that Spike had belittled.  He’d had his turn in the spotlight and what a great learning curve that had proved to be.  Having discovered himself to be, in most respects, a rather sensible individual, the closest he wanted to be to that spotlight in future was occasionally polishing the bulb.

A wave of laughter and an outburst of applause greeted the conclusion of Douglas’ reading, and Xander grinned at the stage when he saw Douglas shaking his head and laughing along having battled to the end of the intricate communication.

“That’s about it for the night, but I do have one last message,” Douglas told the audience, and with a fond smile his focus settled on Xander.  “It’s for Xander.  Welcome home; we’ve missed you.”

Another burst of applause greeted that, and Xander half-rose, gave an embarrassed wave, and quickly sat again.

“Nice sentiment,” Spike coolly observed.

“You promised.”

“I know, I was just saying…”

“Be nice.”

“Naturally.  You think I’m going to do anything to risk a shag tonight?”

Xander tutted and bowed his head, automatically responding to the blessing that Douglas recited to end the evening’s session.  Non-religious and all-encompassing, Spike let the words flow over him and willed himself into his new role as Xander’s…whatever.  That felt good, acknowledging himself as Xander’s…whatever in the chapel, mentally staking his claim on the man in this place, where just about everybody had a head start on him when it came to Xander’s affections.  Yes, okay, they had a time advantage, but none of them were as gorgeous and glorious and irresistible as…

“Spike.  You want to move?”

“Eh?”

“Move?”

Spike glanced around at the gradually clearing hall, and the cluster of regulars waiting to personally welcome Xander home.

“Right.”

Spike stood and let Xander past, watching with satisfaction as the fan club genteelly mobbed his bloke.  Bit of a boost to Xander’s confidence, and a confident Xander was a horny, wild and willing thing.

It was obvious that the Colbergs were hanging back until the competition for Xander’s attention had left the hall, and Douglas had disappeared somewhere backstage.  Simone and Henry were discussing Xander’s dodgy choice of companion, Spike could tell, with their worried faces and surreptitious glances, and he gave them a cheerfully cocky wave.  They managed to smile back, plainly Making An Effort, and then Henry made a comment that Simone obviously chided him for.  Spike snickered to himself.  Nothing like causing a little disharmony in the opposition ranks.

Then Xander was free of his fans and rushing forward to greet his friends, throwing himself into two sets of open arms and enjoying the kind of three-way hug that rang of old times.  Spike strolled down the aisle to join them, being amiably greeted by Douglas as he emerged from a side door, and having his hand thoroughly shaken.

“It’s wonderful to see you both,” Douglas enthused, and he oomphed as Xander switched his attention, driving the air out of his mentor with a huge hug.

Having made up his mind to get the new eye revelation over as soon as possible, Xander dithered away from Douglas, shared a fortifying look with Spike, then turned to his friends.

“I have a surprise for you.  Shock, maybe.  Good shock.  And…and…”

“Get on with it, Love.”

“Okay.  Okay.”

Xander took a deep breath.  Then another.

“Should we be sitting down for this?” Henry asked.

Xander grinned nervously and shrugged and took a further breath.

“Okay.”

It was, understandably, quite a moment when Xander removed the patch, and Spike observed the reactions keenly.  He read in their expressions how well these people appreciated the momentousness of what had occurred, and how much they felt for Xander.  Delighted amazement from Doug, fiercely controlled emotion from Simone although she virtually shook with the effort, and, much as Xander had predicted, it was Henry who was completely overwhelmed and burst into tears.  Xander grabbed and cuddled him while the others joined in with general fussing.

“But how?” Henry demanded, “and why only now?”

Xander wavered over his answer, unsure of how much he was allowed to divulge.

“It’s a new procedure,” Spike intervened, sounding terribly official.  “Unfortunately, we’re not permitted to tell you any more than that.”

“As it if matters how,” Simone dismissed the subject.  “It’s done.”  She guided Xander around to face her.  “You can see?  I mean, it’s not just cosmetic?”

“I can see.”

Her gaze turned to one of utter glee.

“This is so…right.”

“You mean a second eye doesn’t appear ostentatious?” Xander teased.

“I mean you deserve this.”

Fed up with the intense jealousy stirred by seeing so many hands on his mate, Spike wandered off to the rear of the auditorium, reading notices on the boards, studying leaflets on tables, trying to fool himself that he wasn’t eavesdropping every word, every breath.  One of the chapel’s huminions was bringing around refreshments and, having helped himself to a mug of tea, Spike took a booklet on the Stokes’ and its group from one of the neat piles, and sat to read.  Unlikely as it seemed, he was soon engrossed.  The prospect of another road trip loomed large: he wanted to take Xander to all of these venues and show him off.  Spike was just analysing ways of changing Xander’s mind about more prominent exposure of his psychic talents, convinced that Xander’s abilities, plus his looks and appealing personality, would make him the perfect TV medium, when a passing hand landed on his shoulder and he glanced around just as Douglas took a seat along the row.

“Thank you, Spike.  You said you’d take care of Xander and you obviously did an excellent job of it.”

“That’s his version, I take it?”

“Yes.  But…he’s very reluctant to talk about more than his psychic experiences.”  Spike nodded his understanding of that.  “We would – or rather would we – be told if he was anything other than as fine as he protests he is?”

“You’d know: he’s like an open book.”

“I do worry.  Well, we all do, we can’t help it.”

“No need any more, he has me.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Douglas dismissed the suggestion, continuing before Spike could take offence, “We’ll simply find a reason to worry about you too.  Jenny – that would be the lady with the refreshments – already thinks you’re way too pale.”

Spike chuckled at that, determined to find the concern amusing rather than irritating.

“Natural pallor.  She’ll need to find a better excuse for her concern.”

Douglas hmmed, studying Spike curiously, but not offensively.  Convinced by Xander of this man’s skills, Spike wondered if he could somehow sense the demon, or if he was looking at a Spike surrounded by a host of spectral victims.  Or maybe he saw the soul.  Or maybe…

“Have you noticed a change in Xander?”

Presumably, Douglas didn’t mean the sideward step, pseudo-straight boy to unabashed homo-flexual.

“What kind of change?”

“In his work.  I no longer see him struggling for control, and he feels…”

“Oh, right, that.  Yes.  He’ll probably choose to deny it but he’s definitely sharper now: I’ve seen him improve with every reading.”

“Why should he choose to deny it?”

“Because…”  Spike paused, sure that the uber-nasty’s intervention had made the difference, but unsure if Xander wanted to admit that fact, let alone share it.  “There’s…stuff…involved,” Spike said cagily.

“You too,” Douglas sighed.  “Xander’s been tight-lipped about what happened beyond his psychic experiences and it makes me….  Back to worrying, I’m afraid, I told you it was unavoidable.”

A twinge of pity at the unease on the medium’s face, and Spike made a swift decision.

“Up to me to put you out of your misery then.  Short version, to be kept to yourself: we left here, found a murderer, Xander almost got lynched, and then he was practically eaten alive by non-existent bugs.  Some woman with an undead dead husband made a pass and forced Xander and me to have sex, then Xander almost got snatched, we sorted out a kidnapper, I fell in love, Xander saved the world, and I saved Xander by killing him.  Non-permanently, as you’ll have noticed.”

Douglas blinked hard.

“Oh.  Wow.”

“See?” Spike grinned.  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

A moment or two for all that to sink in, and then Douglas, tongue firmly in cheek, couldn’t resist asking…

“What did you do on your days off?”

“There was time, actually, to write up some reports.  Between the squabbling and shagging.  He’s going to get paid for them too.  That’ll be good for him, self-worth and all that.”

Douglas smiled, and Spike wasn’t sure at what, but the next question was the giveaway.

“Did Xander fall in love too?”

The blasé response that Spike longed to give came and went.

“I don’t know.  He fell out of hate.  Into friendship.”  Spike shrugged.  “For whatever reason, he wants me here.  He’s…attached.  That’ll do for starters.”

There was a long, thoughtful pause before Douglas rose to go.

“I hope you’ll be very happy together,” he said sincerely, and patted Spike’s shoulder once again on the way past.

“Hang on.”  Douglas turned back.  “Are you in charge here?”

“Yes, jointly with…”

“I have something for you.”

Spike reached into his coat and brought out a tightly packed envelope bearing a Vree’vathet seal.  He immediately handed it over.

“This is…?”

“Little pressie for this place.  Happy Christmas.”

…

“You’re leaving?” Simone was asking Xander elsewhere, aghast and upset at once.

“No, no, no,” Xander assured her.  “Moving, I’m – we’re – moving.”

“How far away?  Will we still get to see you?”

“It’s not that far out of town, about twenty minutes from you.  You ever notice a big pair of gates set back from the road on the way to Farringdon?  You know that really sharp curve?  Just after that, on the left.  Trees, loads of trees, and there are these gates.”  Simone thought, sighed, and shook her head.  “You have to come see the house, it’s so cool.  It belongs to a friend of Spike’s and he letting us rent at a really good price, and…”  Xander’s enthusiastic spiel came to an abrupt halt.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

“Have you thought this through?  It all seems such a rush.”

“The house?  Or Spike?”

“I have not said one word against Spike,” Simone told him crossly.

“No, I know.”

“I’m just concerned that you may be cutting yourself off from…”

“Hey, wait, I’m not doing that, and it isn’t anything Spike wants.  One of the reasons he has for moving here is to support my work, he respects what I do.  And…as for rushing things…  Okay, yes, this happened fast, but it only happened too fast if you’re on the outside looking in, I promise you.  I feel as if I’ve been standing still for years.  Emotionally.  I’ve been too much of a coward to take any chances, to believe that anyone could want me despite the eye, despite the disruption from the voices, despite me being…a loser.”

“Xander!  You are not…”

“Emotionally, yes, I was.  One day I’ll tell you more about my past and you’ll understand.  But right now, I have to do this, it’s like I’m finally acting my age, I’m ready to take a chance.”

“Spike’s the one?”

Xander smiled a huge smile.

“Ah, he’s great.  I was terrified to get involved with him, I kept putting him off, and he kept coming back, and he made me accept a lot about who I am.  Sometimes I need somebody who won’t be as diplomatic as you and H and all my other friends here.  What’s more…  C’mere, feel this.”  Simone moved a little closer and Xander took her hand, placing it on his chest.  Then he looked across the hall to where Spike sat in conversation with Douglas.  Predictably, one look at Spike and his heart began to race.  Simone felt it and her brow crinkled with barely concealed emotion; she rapidly gave up on trying to find the right words, simply giving him a quick hug before attempting to regain her composure.  “I’m not a loser anymore, Simone.  I deserve to feel like this.”

“Yes, you do,” Simone agreed as she finally found her voice.

“I’m not a big enough fool to think that Spike’s going to stick around indefinitely, but some decisions are irresistible.  Being with Spike now – which I’ll probably be convinced is the stupidest of all stupid decisions when he eventually goes – feels fantastic.  I feel fantastic.”

“I hope he appreciates what he’s got.”

Xander placed an arm around her shoulders and grinned.

“Isn’t that where you fit in?”

Simone perked up.

“You feel the occasional reminder would be appropriate?”

“Go for it, terrorise him all you want in the name of friendship.  He thrives on friction and I don’t want him getting bored.”

“Xander…  You know me well enough to understand that I have to make up my own mind about Spike.”

“I don’t expect anything less.  But if you never get to like him I hope you’ll respect me enough to keep that to yourself.  At least…as best you can.”

“I will never put pressure on you over a choice of partner.  Of course, Kirsty may not be so forgiving.”

“Hey, I’ve been a good boy for years, I deserve a love triangle.”

With a chuckle, Simone brushed him off and marched away to complete her post-session duties.  Xander looked around for Henry, wanting to check that he was recovered from the earlier shock, but instead of catching sight of him, he saw Douglas, post-Spike, staring at something in his hands and looking utterly stunned.

“Doug?”

They both began walking and the moment they met up Douglas was thrusting an envelope full of cash in Xander’s direction.

“Have you seen this?  From Spike.”

“He told me he was making a donation, yes.”

“Six-and-a-half thousand dollars, he says.”

“Yup.  A client of his left it to him,” Xander explained, offering a publicly acceptable version of the Uund’d’tar saga.

“But…”

“Take it.  Really.”

“You don’t…”

“He wouldn’t give it away if we needed it.  Plus, he has a good argument about old ladies asses and uncomfortable seats.”

“Old ladies asses.  That’s a unique entry for the donation ledger.”

“Okay, now that he’s bought your affection…what do you think of Spike?” Xander joked, before adding, earnestly, “I know he can be a little blunt, but he’s a good guy.”

“I can see that.  There’s nothing wrong with blunt, either, blunt can be quite refreshing.”

“Yeah, but don’t encourage him or he’ll scare H to death.”

“And he loves you, which is good to know.”

“He…uh…  You shouldn’t presume…”

“I’m not presuming anything.  He told me.”

“He…?”

“He told me.  He’s in love with you.”

They shouldn’t have been such a bombshell, or such an emotional wrench, but those words were all that was needed to fulfil a little more of Xander’s earlier prophecy: his own tears were most definitely on their way.

Spike returned from chatting up the front of house contingent to witness Xander being cuddled by his mentor and, whatever promises had been made, alleged nice guy or not, this was where Douglas met his.

“What are your plans?” Simone’s voice came from his left before he could take a step.  “Are you staying with Xander?”

Spike postponed the intimidation of Douglas and considered his answer, knowing that this could be a pivotal moment in how much flack he would take from Simone in the future.  How much grief Xander would suffer at having Spike constantly at odds with one of the cornerstones of this life.

“My plans…”  Simone stopped the shuffling of two handfuls of papers bearing spiritual healing requests to look at Spike, scrutinizing him with not entirely masked anxiety.  Anxious for Xander, caring for Xander, and didn’t that put them on the same side?  He forcibly set aside his natural inclination to tease and antagonise her, consoling himself that, going by the hostile looks he’d been shot, he would always have the pleasure of tormenting Henry.  Spike decided to try what had been so successful with Xander.  Honesty.  “Yes, I plan to stay with Xander.  For as long as he’ll have me.”

“Or until you get bored?” Simone challenged.

“I don’t, strange as it may seem.  When I fall I fall hard, and I’m the faithful type.  It’s usually me that gets dumped or deserted.”

It was a more astonishing sight than anything Spike had encountered in the last months: a flash of sympathy from Medusa.  She went back to her shuffling.

“He looks wonderful.”

Spike stared across the hall at Xander.

“Mmm,” he agreed distractedly.  “He is.  Does,” he corrected himself, but Simone was already smiling at him, and that was peculiarly nice, if a little disturbing.

“I’m sorry if I misjudged you.”

“I was misjudged?  Oh, that’s a shock,” Spike said flatly.

“I’m prepared to admit my mistakes if you’re prepared not to be one.”

Spike swallowed down a growl.

“I am the best thing that’s happened to Xander in years, and…”

“I know.”

“…and…and…  You do?  What then?  You’re just taking my word for it?”

“Your word, Xander’s judgement.”

At Spike’s quizzical expression, Simone set the papers aside, collecting her purse from a nearby drawer and rifling through its contents before bringing out a letter.  Spike recognised his firm’s stationary immediately.

“I shouldn’t have sent that, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Simone dismissed his apology with an airy flick of the hand and scanned the letter until she found what she’d been looking for.  She quoted:

“‘Unlikely, I know, but this guy turned out to be so special.  I had such a great time with him before the end, I remembered what it was like to have fun, I got to have someone to hold me all night and give me peace.  He was never freaked out by what I am, or how I looked.  He didn’t see the damage, he saw me.  I found someone who didn’t have unrealistic expectations of me as a person, regardless of what he expected from the medium.  I’d have to be crazy not to love him and right now I might just be the sanest person in the vicinity.’”

Contrary to Xander’s beliefs, Spike had not read his goodbye letters, and had taken great care to protect Xander’s privacy while printing them out.  He felt a swell of emotion at hearing Xander’s words, his praise of the vampire that had killed him.

“The affection…  Mutual,” he muttered.

“I’m not blind, Spike.”  Spike nodded, astounded that she’d noticed, and that had to have been before she’d demanded to know his intentions.  Still, he was resigned to the fact that it was always the women around Xander who were the hardest work.  “I have this…”  Simone waved the letter, “Xander’s assurances tonight, and the knowledge that if you hurt him I’ll hunt you down and shoot you like a mad dog.  Be smart enough to see that it isn’t an empty threat.”

“You haven’t met Willow yet, have you?”

“She called.  We spoke for a while.”

“Then I’m surprised any of us blokes have balls left.”

Xander appeared at Spike’s side.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.  I was just telling Simone how much she’d like Red.”

“Christmas!” Xander suddenly exclaimed.  “We’re having Christmas, Simone, would you and Henry…”

“We’d be delighted.”

“Great.”

Xander saw a sad memory pass behind Simone’s eyes.

“Xander…  We didn’t open your gifts yet.  We wanted you to be with us when…”

“After all the bloody time and trouble I went to getting them here for the day!”

“Spike,” Xander snapped.

“What?” Spike snapped back.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” Simone interjected, “but we…”

“Don’t apologise to him, it’ll only make him worse.”

“Him’s standing here, Pet.”

“Is there a problem?” Henry asked as he arrived.

“Hey, H!  You okay?”

Henry gave Xander a warm smile.

“Absolutely fine.”

“We’re having Christmas!” Xander and Simone announced together, breaking into laughter and nudging one another like school kids.

“This bonhomie is sickening,” Spike announced, stepping out of the group and strolling away.

As Henry pursued him, Xander and Simone shared a knowing look.

“Such rudeness isn’t necessary,” Henry was protesting to Spike’s back.

“Says who!”  Spike swung back.  “Y’know, Henry, I am so relieved you don’t like me.”

“Really?”  The man sounded genuinely taken aback.

“I won’t have to make any kind of effort with you because whatever I do will be wrong.”

“Yes, yes, I see that,” Henry agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

They stared at one another for a long moment.

“So…” Spike said cheerfully, “Oxford, wasn’t it?  Which of those fine establishments are we talking about?”

“Actually, it was Christ Church, I studied Economics.”

“More to the point…  King’s Arms, or White Horse?”

…

“You had to discuss every bar in England before we could leave?” Xander grouched as he let himself into his outgoing domicile.

“Pub.  They’re pubs.  The bar is in the pub, it’s where you get served.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Xander limped into the living room and gingerly lowered himself into his armchair.

“You sore?”

“My knee isn’t used to this much exercise, but it’ll be…”

“You should have said something.  Let me see.”

“There’s nothing to…”

Spike already had Xander’s jeans unfastened and half off his hips.

“Lift.”

“Really, Spike, it won’t look any different to…”

“Lift.  Or I throw you over my shoulder and…”

Xander lifted his hips and his jeans were quickly tugged down to his ankles.  Spike studied the aching knee, gently removing the brace and examining the joint from all angles.  It looked perfectly normal.

“Told you so.”

Spike placed his hand over it.

“Bit hot.  And there’s nothing I can do to help the inside,” he said regretfully.

“I just need some rest.”

Spike grinned lasciviously.

“Or maybe you need Doctor Spike.”

“Oh, no, no, no.  Not even attempting to start something I can’t finish.”

Xander prodded Spike away and struggled to his feet, jeans still around his ankles as he shuffled off to the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas to use as an ice pack.  When he returned he found that Spike had discovered the book on England he’d been studying.

“Still fancy the trip?” Spike asked.

“I, umm…”  Xander sat back down and shuddered pleasurably as the ice touched his knee.  “I wasn’t assuming…”

“Do,” Spike insisted.  “Assume.”

“Then…  How soon is too soon?”

“Your knee has to be fully fit, which means…  Late spring, summer.  Or can you wait until the nights are longer?”

“We’re talking…?”

“Autumn.  How about September?  September’s nice in England.”

Spike sounded quite wistful, and Xander could and couldn’t wait to see him back on home ground.

“September’s good.”

Setting the book aside, Spike gave Xander a touching smile.

“I wish you had assumed.  Rather than writing us off so easily.”

“You left me.”

“You’re the one person I would have expected to see right through my histrionics.”

“Yeah, that was incredibly selfish of me, being too confused and miserable to think straight after being publicly bawled out and dumped.  Next time…”  Spike stared hard and waited for the remainder of that sentence; Xander hesitated, remembered, smiled to himself.  “There won’t be a next time.  Apparently…”  Now the smile was for Spike.  “We’re inseparable.  There is a thread, woven into time and matter that binds us.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

“Bloody Zooza.  For a moment there I thought you were going to come out with something credible.”

“What would you rather believe, Spike?  Now, this very minute.  That our very unlikely relationship will be riddled with next times and we’ll have permanently broken up before the end of the year?”

“No,” Spike quietly replied.

“No,” Xander repeated.  “Good answer.  I can get into the whole non-credible thread concept if there’s a chance of a little happiness.”

“Or a lot.”

“Or a lot,” Xander repeated that too.  “We deserve a lot.  I don’t want to stop believing in us, especially since I’ve barely started.  I’ve been walking around since you got here, convinced I’m in a dream.”  Xander paused, scrutinised Spike.  “I don’t think you have any idea of how much I want this to be real.”

“I do.  And you know I do.”

A sigh, a rueful smile, and a nod, then Xander dropped the bag of peas and strapped the brace back on.

“What do we need?  At the—  At home.”

“Food.  Change of clothes.”  Spike gazed hopefully at Xander.  “Slick?”

Xander considered.

“Six pack?”

The lighter tone worked like a starting pistol: Spike launched himself across the room and in less than a second was pressing Xander back into his chair, grinding his body against his lover’s – yes, his lover’s – as he kissed him with breathtaking ferocity.  Xander objected for all of…no time at all, seizing a firm vampire buttock with each hand and kneading in time with Spike’s urgent thrusts.  The pair of them had been on the verge of grab and take all day, waiting in keen anticipation for the trigger, for this.

“You wanted me to take the choice away?” Spike panted.  “Consider it taken.”

“No, I didn’t mean…”  Spike wriggled a hand between them and indelicately grabbed Xander’s erection.  “Oh, fuck.”

“Whichever, whatever, I’ll ride you, fuck you, suck you dry…”

“I want…”

“Tell me, Love, c’mon, before I fill my jeans.”

“The house!” Xander desperately exclaimed.

Spike leaned back, astounded.

“I’m offering you the hottest body in this hemisphere and all you can think about is the house!  It’s not going anywhere, for Christ’s sake!”

“If we can have sex here then we have no reason to move, and I want to move.  I want the snazzy house that will impress all my friends when we have parties there.  I want to be the cool guy with the snazzy house.  I want Willow’s jaw to drop so hard it dislocates, and Buffy’s brain to explode with disbelief, and…and…Dawn’s hair to wilt with sheer jealousy.”

“And don’t forget Rupert,” Spike taunted, pissed off at being tormented by the Scoobies, years after he’d successfully escaped them.

“He’ll, uh…he’ll like the, umm…  Library!  We’ll have a library!  With books!”

Spike pushed himself off of Xander and stomped away.

“It’s only a bloody house, it’s not that flash, it’s nothing compared to the others.  If you look at it next to the cabin…”

“How about next to a basement?”

Immediately concerned by the bitterness in Xander’s voice, Spike spun back to face him.

“That was a long time ago, no-one…”

“When we left Sunnydale, before I went to Africa, we rented this big house in Cleveland, it was beautiful, light and modern and…  I can see from your face you know where this is going.”

“Another bloody basement.”

“It was the most practical solution because the size of the upstairs rooms made them suitable for dorms, and we constantly had slayers appearing on our doorstep who needed taking in.  But I hated it.  I hated it.”

“I wondered why it was so easy to dispatch you to Africa.  You were insanely protective of your girls, it wasn’t like you to leave them to fend for themselves, even if…y’know…”

“Yes, I do know: even if they usually ended up protecting me.  Yeah, well…  Everyone was growing and moving on and up and I was back in the damn basement.”

“They should have realised.”

“Why?  Xander’s dumbass happy act was pretty bullet-proof.  And it wasn’t a bad basement, in fact it was luxurious compared to my parents’, but it was the basement.  My friends probably—  No, they did, they thought they were doing me a favour: more privacy; time and space to deal with what had happened in Sunnydale; somewhere secluded to go insane if the voices in my head were anything to go by.”

“Ah, Xander.”

“No, I don’t want sympathy, or pity, and thank you for the noticeable lack of snark.”

Spike hurried over, and within seconds Xander was dressed and on his feet, sentimentally rather than passionately kissed and hugged, and being urged to go and find whatever he needed for their overnighter.  Spike started to follow, then stopped, realising he didn’t know what to do with himself.  One tale of semi-woe from Xander and he was feeling over-protective and sad and cross and…what he did know with absolute certainty was at that precise moment he would have done anything Xander wanted, anything for him.  And with that certainty, every last denied doubt over his move to New Forest, his being with Xander, evaporated in an instant.  Unfortunately, it was also the perfect opportunity for all the old longings to resurface, and that couldn't be good.  Or could it?  Or…

“Spike.”

“What?  Oh.  Were you…”

“Yes, I was.  I appreciate that I’m not talking about anything that appeals to your imagined better nature: no death or gore or sex, but…”

“What did you say?”

“I was asking—  Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Spike snapped defensively.  “What did you want?”

“Oh, great, bipolar man has emerged from the booth.  Or, in your case, should that be the swiftly revolving door?”  Spike simply stared.  Xander tutted and wandered off to the kitchen to continue packing supplies.  This time Spike did follow.  “I asked if the girls gave you a hard time when you got back to LA.”

“No.”  Xander waited for more information, Spike sighed and obliged.  “They were already gone, they were all gone.”

“That was probably just as well.”

“Probably.”

“Not that they’d have any right to start a fight but it doesn’t seem to stop them.  Of course, it wouldn’t stop me either if it was the other way around.”  Xander waved a McVitie’s tube at Spike.  Spike nodded, Xander packed.  “You okay?”  Spike shrugged.  “Have I somehow managed to piss you off?”

“Nah, Love.  Same old, same old.”

“Same old…”  Xander speedily realised what Spike was referring to and immediately tensed up.  “The never fully explained stuff that always leads to misery?  That’s about as cool as it doesn’t get.  Am I looking at more obnoxious?”

Spike surprised Xander with a tender half-smile, accompanied by the dangerously endearing head-tilt.

“Are you mine?” The question was softly spoken, deceptively composed.  “Are you, Xander?  Will you ever let yourself be?”

Xander fell still, forbidding himself the luxury of a joke or a knee-jerk dismissal.  He remained immobile until his leg began to ache.  Even then the only move he made was to go to Spike, to put his arms around the vampire and soothe the worst of the tension from his body.

“It’s what you need, isn’t it,” Xander confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You know that I want to give you what you need.”

“But you’ve always said…”

“This is different, Spike, you know it is.”

“It scares you.”

“Not as much as being alone does.  Not as much as the thought of watching you walk away again.”

“What if I promise to stay whatever you decide?  Not leave unless you’re begging me to go.”

“You’d do that, despite what you need?  Make that promise?  Keep it?”

“If I have to.”

“Then…  You don’t.”  Xander caressed the back of Spike’s neck as he leaned their brows together, savouring the intimacy and trusting his instincts completely on this matter, but still needing a moment to steel himself before taking the ultimate step.  “I’m yours.  As much as I can ever be anybody’s, I’m yours.  Please don’t hurt me.”

“Xander,” Spike groaned.  “You really think I could?”

“Yes.  Too easily.  Then I’m screwed, my work is screwed, my whole fucking life is…”

“Shh, shh, shh.”

A brief kiss to Xander’s mouth and then Spike’s lips were making their way across Xander’s cheek, pausing on his jaw, progressing down his neck to the scar.  With a low, snickering growl, the demon emerged.

“Ah, shit,” Xander laughed, breathy and apprehensive, “what have I agreed to?”

“Shh, shh, shh.”

The tip of a single incisor made the tiniest scratch on the scar, just enough to release a hint of Xander’s blood before the healing properties of Spike’s saliva sealed the wound.  The experience was nevertheless enough to leave Xander trembling and clinging, and he let himself be gathered up and sat on the nearest counter.  Standing between Xander’s knees, and still in full game face, Spike gazed into Xander’s glazed eyes and pointedly licked his lips.

“You’re mine, Xander.”

Xander gave a shaky nod.

“Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t hurt you.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Scared or horny?”

Fumbling for Spike’s hand, Xander grabbed it and held it to his bulging groin.

“Go figure,” he croaked.

Deft fingers had his zip open and boxers aside before Xander could exclaim another ‘Not here!’, and as Spike’s mouth closed over the head of his cock, Xander sank back against the wall and decided that for a fleeting moment – which, he suspected, was about all it would take to get off – here was entirely fine.  Through slitted eyelids he watched that scary demonic face take the greatest care over sucking one of his most precious possessions, felt that muscular tongue swirling and teasing and coaxing; golden eyes brimming with desire flicked up to meet dilated brown, locked and demanded.  Xander was powerless to resist his body’s automatic reaction; with a wordless exclamation he shuddered and came.  Spike gave another of those peculiar growls as he closed his eyes and relished the hot spurts of semen filling his mouth, not about to touch himself, taking his satisfaction from Xander’s.  Blood and come and words.  He wanted to hear the words again.  Releasing Xander’s softening cock, his head rose and he gave an encouraging nod; Xander understood and smiled lazily.

“I’m yours.  My dick and I are very, very yours.”

Spike morphed back to his human face, leaning in for an intense kiss before moving his mouth to Xander’s ear.

“And how about your heart?” he whispered.

“Entirely,” came the answer, no hesitation and husky with emotion.  “Entirely.”

Easing Xander to the edge of the counter, Spike held him for a long time, waiting to see if Xander’s compliance had settled his inner cravings.  Barely was the unfortunate answer, and that called for a monumental decision on his part.  So…more time; more thought.  Nowhere near reaching a conclusion, it was only when Xander’s hands began to creep toward Spike’s persistent erection that the vampire relinquished both his dilemma and his partner and stepped away.

“We should leave.”

“Don’t you want me to…”

“When we get home.”

Xander grinned at Spike’s casual use of ‘home’, the term emerging so easily whilst Xander was still having to think twice every time he used it in its new context.  Not knowing or caring about the cause of Xander’s good humour, Spike smiled back, and Xander doubted that he’d ever see enough of that after witnessing Spike’s depression when they were in LA.

“I love it when you smile,” he shared.  “Even if it is because I’ve made one insanely possessive demon very happy.”

“That you have, Love.”

Xander gestured to the straining material at Spike’s groin.

“I could make it happier still.”

“Home,” Spike insisted.  “Look forward to being shagged silly.”

“Has this put an end to the obnoxious?  Me saying what you want to hear.”

“It’s helped,” Spike said cagily.

“It’s helped,” Xander repeated thoughtfully.  “We back to what you can’t say?  You can’t say you’re…”

“We’re back to what you don’t want.”

“You have to spell it out, Spike.  Give me all the gruesome details and let me figure out for myself if I want it.”

“Give you a dozen reasons to throw me over?  I don’t think so.”

“But…”

“I can handle this.  Nothing for you to worry about so let it go.”

“But…”

“Anything else you need before we leave?” Spike interrupted, putting a very definite end to the conversation.

With a discontented sigh Xander grudgingly accepted that Spike just might know what he was talking about on this subject.  Besides, with a potentially bright future before them, Xander didn’t want to bring it crashing to a halt before it started by picking Spike’s decisions to pieces.  Reckless maybe, naïve certainly, but he chose to turn a figurative blind eye, and concentrate on the chance of happiness he’d been offered.

“I think it’s all packed.  Though…  Sorry, no lube.”

“I should hope not,” Spike teased, “respectable young gent like yourself.”

“Then…”

“I’ve got some.  More than some.  Bucket-load.  Nothing respectable about me, and we both know you’ll soon be very grateful for that.”

Spike picked up Xander’s duffel and cheerfully left the kitchen.  As the familiar voices crowded back in Xander felt horribly exposed, in more ways than one.  Maybe here was not so entirely fine, the very Spike-ish approach of getting Xander ‘so bloody horny you won’t give a damn where you are providing I’m doing wonderful things to your prick’ obviously having severe post-coital flaws.  Xander slid off the counter and quickly rearranged his clothes, scuttling off in pursuit of Spike, blushing and muttering senseless apologies to spirits that paid absolutely no heed to his behaviour.

…

It may have started as a joke, Spike carrying Xander over the threshold, but it certainly made Xander powerless to resist Spike’s passage straight to the bedroom.  He tossed Xander onto the bed and, after taking all of two seconds to strategically position the lube from his pocket and discard his own clothes, turned to his lover with a lusty growl.

“I’m going to make you very naked, and then you’re going to be very fucked,” Spike explained.

“Oh,” Xander responded breathlessly, “okay.”

Despite his impatience, Spike took his time undressing Xander, touching, kissing, experiencing every inch of him as he progressed toward his ultimate goal of a naked, quivering, aroused beyond reason lover.  He took extra time over the left elbow and knee, the scarred stomach, filling his attention with affection rather than guilt, and finally comprehending what Xander had been trying to tell him: the scars had healed well and were fading fast.  Unremarkable and forgettable, not as interesting as the other minor marks and blemishes that told the story of Xander’s life.

“What’s this?”

“Skateboarding disaster.”

“This?”

“Remember that demon with the spare head?”

“The, uh…  Yes.  Sharp claws.”

“It’s a cool scar.  Not everyone has a scar like that.”  Spike agreed, admiring the pearlescent spiral on Xander’s right inner forearm.  “Even my dad, who was famous for not noticing much beyond the TV and a beer when he got home from work noticed that one.  For a moment I thought he was going to give a damn, but luckily no.  He just said ‘Cool scar’ and I agreed.  That was a damn good conversation for us,” Xander finished with a grin.

Spike smiled too, but thoughtfully.

“Xander…  My father recognised Spike, didn’t he?  All those names he called me…”

“Don’t think about…”

“I want to.  Because he shouldn’t have known about the demon, he should only have known William.  His son.”

“He—  Oh.  Yeah.  That’s…that’s…  Wow.  Never thought of that.”

“Does that mean they all know?  My mum, my aunt, cousins, everyone?”

“Maybe they do.  Maybe it’s proof of how far toleration and acceptance can go.”

“Or maybe it explains why they stopped coming through for me.”

“It’s hit and miss, you know that.  Give it time.”

“I’d like them to know,” Spike admitted.  “About the demon, about me.  Even if they never come back.”

“I think what Anya said is more pertinent.  There’s a place for you.  You’re going to see all your family again one day.”

“They may not accept me.”

“Then there would be no point.”

“So…  You think…?”

“I think there’s pretty much always a point.”

A moment of intense contemplation, then Spike was back to the business in hand, to leisurely examining every inch of Xander’s body, once again kissing the damaged knee as he passed by, progressing until he eventually found an untidy scrape on Xander’s left ankle.

“What’s this?”

“Not so cool.  Jesse stole some of his pop’s beer and we got drunk on a sniff each.  I fell off the wall I was tightroping, took most of the skin off, ankle to knee.”

“Poor love.  And to think, one long lick from me and…”

“Uh, okay, about that long licking…”

“Hmm?” Spike enquired lightly as he cruised up Xander’s body, wriggling his erection up the leg of Xander’s boxers and rubbing their cocks together beneath the damp-spotted cotton.  Xander leaned up to observe the material ripple and bulge.

“God, that’s hot.  Everything with you, everything is hot.”

Spike all but cackled with satisfaction at that, easing Xander’s legs apart and kneeling between his thighs.  As he sat back his cock sprang free from the confines of Xander’s boxers, and he relished the open admiration of his lover.  Lifting Xander by the hips…

“All right, Love?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

…he shuffled forward on his knees until he could rest Xander in his lap.  For a short while he played with Xander’s erection through the thin material, but it wasn’t long before he felt the need to peel the cotton away, tearing it apart strip by revealing strip.  One band of wrecked cloth was tied around the base of Xander’s balls, another was looped beneath the head of Xander’s cock, both fastened with bows.

“Pretty,” Spike smiled, teasing Xander’s glans as he dragged the bow in a complete circle.  “All it needs now is a label.  Spike’s.”  He gave the swollen head a tweak.  “Spike’s knob.”  Collecting the pre-come that had pulsed from Xander’s flesh at the stimulation, Spike sucked it off his thumb.  “Spike’s nectar.”  His nails trailed down the thick shaft as Xander groaned and tried to thrust into his hand for more attention.  “Spike’s prick.  Spike’s balls.”  He fondled the soft skin, gently pulled at the hair.  A slightly firmer squeeze.  “Spike’s spunk.”

“Any chance you’d like to liberate a little of that?” Xander pleaded.

“All in good time.”  Spike’s fingers stroked over Xander’s perineum to the crease of his buttocks.  “Spike’s very splendid arse.” A single finger wriggled between Xander’s cheeks and tickled the puckered skin of his opening.  “Spike’s…heaven.”

Xander scrabbled for the tube of lubricant, expression and actions manic as he tore the cap off and squirted a stream in the direction of Spike’s hand.

“Fuck me.  Stop tormenting me and fuck me.  Spike…”

Xander’s protest became a gasp as Spike’s slippery finger breached his muscles, probing deep into the tight heat, the vampire releasing his own moan of delight.

“Ah, Love, sometimes I forget just how…”

“Shut up and fuck me, Spike.  Shut up and fuckmegoddamnit.”

Spike smirked and transferred plenty of the lube to his own cock.

“Missed me, have you?”

“You have no idea,” Xander whined, falling back and covering his face with crossed arms.

“What have you missed most?  Sheer sensation of my prick stretching you open and filling you up?  Being all cool inside you, making you tremble with the cold when I shoot my…”

“Shut up!”

“Or is it…”

“Shut up and do it!”

“Your seduction technique needs a little work, Petal, there’s nothing sexy about being nagged.  What?”  Xander was peering at him with the non-sexy, pissed off face that was enough to wilt a hard-on sculpted in marble.  “What?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“I’ve missed you the most.  You.  This isn’t about the sex, it’s about you.  You wanted me to want you, and I want you.  I’ve missed you, and I want you, and I want to be as close to you as I can be, and please, please…fu—  Make love to me.”

“Clever,” Spike conceded, “and rather sneaky.  I’m proud of you.”

“I mean it.  And I have to nag to get it, ‘cause if I turn to all-out smush the past couple of months are going to rear up and transform me into an overemotional, hormonal bomb of a teenager who’s been dumped for the worst time and can no longer pretend he coped.”

Xander’s chest heaved as he fought to keep suppressing the worst of what his time in LA minus Spike had left him with.  Without another word, Spike lined up his cock and pressed forward into Xander’s body; Xander murmured unintelligibly as the head popped in and Spike relaxed; Xander reached for him, needing more.

“Closer,” Xander urged, and Spike shuddered with some fairly traumatic memories of his own.

Xander’s left leg was lifted onto Spike’s shoulder, better to rest it, and Spike carefully manoeuvred himself nearer, parting his own legs so Xander was more comfortably settled and smiling at Xander’s tirade of appreciative yes’s when his cock was buried to the hilt.  Spike turned his head and kissed Xander’s knee, stroking the thigh and feeling muscles twitch expectantly beneath the surface.

“I’m here now, Xander.  Forget LA, forget it all.”

“I don’t want to…”

“The bad bits, all right?  Just the bad bits.”

“But even some of the bad bits…”

“Stop being a git and…tell me you’re mine.”

“Wait.  I wasn’t supposed to forget that?” Xander teased, and Spike went back to winding the strip of cloth around and around the man’s cockhead.  With a groan and a wriggle, Xander’s memory improved greatly.  “I’m yours, Baby.  Do something to make it worthwhile, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re mine,” Spike smugly reiterated, rolling his hips and delighting in Xander’s obvious pleasure.  “You’re mine.”  The words, again and again as he very deliberately dragged his cock back and forth over Xander’s prostate, no real thought other than his partner’s enjoyment but he might have known, at the back of his mind, it was also about creating an association.  Being Spike’s meant great rewards of a sexual variety.  One day all it would take was a whispered ‘You’re mine’ and Xander would be instantly, involuntarily hard and ready for his mate.  But right now…

“More,” Xander urged, gesturing Spike to him, “more, here, now, kiss.”

“I was minding…”

“Knee’s fine.”  To prove the point, Xander jerked his leg aside and off of Spike’s shoulder.  “Now, here.”

Spike stretched out over his lover and happily supplied the demanded contact and kisses, soon caught in the wave of Xander babble, the ‘more, now, harder, faster, more, fuck me, want you, fuck me, Spike, fuck me’, that led him to the brink of orgasm as he thrilled at being so desired, so potent, and all he wanted say in return…he couldn’t.  I’m yours.  Still afraid of what kind of insane and uncontrollable demonic overreaction he’d be imposing upon Xander, the thought nevertheless excited him to a point of destroying his control, and he pushed his hand between their bodies, fisting Xander’s erection and being reminded of the cloth tied around it.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, picking at the damp bow, unwittingly stimulating Xander’s already over-sensitive cock.

“Leave it, it doesn’t…  Oh, fuck, Spike, fuck me, come, let me feel…come…”

Spike tore the strip of cotton away and Xander yelped, bucked, forced Spike deep into his body and hollered when he felt Spike’s ferocious shudder as the demon emerged; the delicious sensation of a flood of cool seed inside him triggered a furious orgasm that seemed to last and last and last.

“I’m…”  Spike gasped, breath hitching as he rode the spasms that wrung out his body, filling and possessing his mate.  “I’m yo…”

Xander pulled him into a fervent kiss, attacking his fanged mouth with mindless passion as they twitched and trembled through the aftershocks of their respective climaxes, successfully silencing any inconsiderate heartfelt words.

After which they collapsed: under the circumstances, it was the only sensible thing to do.

“Wow,” Xander eventually had the energy to moan.  “Spiiiiike.”

“Huh?”

“Fuuuuuck.”

Spike gave a weary laugh and forced his eyes open, sated gold meeting the drowsy black/brown of Xander’s.

“What, Love?”

“You’re so good, you’re just…just…so…good.”  Xander’s hand came up to fondle Spike’s vampiric ridges.  “And…demony.”

“You mind?”

“No.  It’s actually kinda stunning.  To these human eyes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Doesn’t put you off?”

“Nothing could put me off you.  This is the most turned on I’ve been in my entire life.”

“Really?”

Xander nodded and stroked some more.  No hiding the demon away, Spike slumped back onto Xander’s chest, deeply inhaling and letting out the breath slowly until it became nothing.

“Spike?”

“Mmm?”

“Can I ask you for something ridiculous?”

“Uh…trampoline?”

“No, not…  Actually, that’d be fun, wouldn’t it.  But…no.”

“Ask.”

A big deal, a huge deal, and Xander took a few minutes to work up the courage, only able to manage a whisper when he suspected Spike might be too dozy to care.

“Please…never leave me.”

“Never,” Spike murmured.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Xander carried on stroking.  Thinking.  Thinking about a promise that had to be unkeepable.

“How can you do that?  Make a promise about never?”

“’Cause…I know.”

“How?”

Easy-peasy.  Spike sighed and snuggled and sleepily stated the obvious.

“I’m yours.”

Manifestation 38       Manifestation Index       Manifestation Notes

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