“I’m yours.”

Xander froze.  Wasn’t that the one thing Spike wasn’t meant to say?  Wasn’t meant to say in a very big important way?

“Baby…”

“Mmm?”

“You said…  Uh…  Maybe I misheard.”

“What?”

“Well, you said…  No, you didn’t, I…”

“What did I sa—”

Spike matched Xander’s freeze.  He remained frozen as a jumble of fears and hopes and the requisite anticipation of great disaster rushed through him.

“Spike…  You…you…  Did you really say it?”

“I…yes.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Should I start running?” Xander asked, only half joking.

“I said…that.”

“Maybe, ‘cause you weren’t really awake, or…or…”

“I said it, didn’t I?”

“You…er…kinda…seemed to.  But you were sleepy, you didn’t mean it, and…”

“I meant it.”

“Should I be scared?”

Spike leaned up and shook his head, bringing back his human face.  He stared at Xander and Xander stared guardedly back.  With great trepidation, Xander touched a single fingertip to Spike’s chest.

“What?” Spike asked.

“Precisely.  In there.  What’s happening?”

“I…”

“You seem…calm.  Too calm.  Which worries me.”

“I—”

Spike thought and felt and blinked and swallowed hard.

“Well?”

“I’m yours,” Spike said definitely, in a bid to provoke a further reaction within himself.

“Don’t make it worse,” Xander urged, “don’t…don’t…don’t…”  Xander paused.  He frowned and gave Spike’s chest a harder prod.  “Isn’t anything happening?”

“Umm…”

“Where’s the terrifying stuff that makes the obnoxious worthwhile?”

“I…  Stop prodding me!”

“Or what?  You’ll tear me limb from limb?  Skin me alive?  Eviscerate me with your claws?”  Spike grabbed Xander’s hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the fingertips.  “Now you are truly scaring me.  Spike…”

“I can’t believe this.”

“What?  You can’t believe you’re not kicking me to the floor and making me your slave?”

“There are…fireworks in my heart, there’s a rollercoaster careering through my gut, and I could use my prick to chisel you a love letter in granite.”

“That’s…that’s…uh…impressive.  And deep down demony you?”

“I expected…I d’know…some kind of uncontrollable, wildly dangerous, over-possessive madness if I ever did it.  If I ever gave myself to you.”

“And?”

Spike paused in confusion as he analysed his feelings for the umpteenth time.

“Peace.  I think the fireworks and roller-coaster are more about the soul.  Give that bloody demon what it’s been screaming for and…just like that: peace.  Sort of smug bastardy ‘bout bloody time too peace, but…peace.”

“That’s…that’s…  No, wait.  This is it?  This is it?  Peace?  You mean…the obnoxious was for nothing?” Xander demanded with mounting indignation.

“Yes.  I mean, no.  I…  Love…  This is…”

“You broke my frigging heart for this?  Whatever it takes was for this?”

“Xander…”

“Obnoxious?  You wait, I’ll give you fucking obnoxious!”

“Xander!  I thought…  I didn’t know what to think, what to expect, and…whatever happened, you were going to hate me for it, for inflicting myself on you for ever, and I mean for ever.  You’d hate me and you’d tell me to go, and that would send me out of control and then I’d hurt you, seriously hurt you – none of this lightweight obnoxious bollocks – and maybe even turn you against your will.  I thought I’d destroy us.  Destroy us in every sense.  Fucking hell, Xan, it’s been torture,” Spike concluded in a shaking voice.

“Oh, sure, but—”  Xander fell abruptly silent as his brain caught up with his mouth.  “For…ever?” he asked in whisper.

“See!  I bet you’re already thinking about how you’re stuck with me and…and…  I’ve been trying so hard not to say it, Love.  You’re all I want and I couldn’t risk losing you, I couldn’t…”

Xander grabbed Spike and cuddled him close.

“You’ve got me.  It’s okay, you’ve got me.  More to the point…I’ve got you.  I want to be stuck with you.  For ever’s good.  God, I’m such a selfish bastard.  I don’t care if you’re traumatised so long as I get what I want.”

“Works both ways.”

“Not true.  You’ve been looking out for me.  I told you, didn’t I?  Your goodness is less questionable than mine.  Jeez, I’d hate to inherit a new soul, the old one took enough running in.”

“Does this mean…”

“I’m happy.  You’re mine, and for ever, and I’m…I’m…  There isn’t a big enough word for how happy I am.”

The tension drained from Spike’s body and he slumped into Xander’s embrace; this much honesty was more than exhausting.  Plus fireworks, rollercoasters, and—

“It almost makes sense.  The peace.”

“It does make sense,” Xander agreed, “and it’s wonderful.  But will it last?”

“D’know.  I do know the obnoxious is a thing of the past.”

“That’s a relief.”

“And I know I’ll never hurt you.”

“That’s a bigger relief.  I’m a coward as well as a selfish bastard.”

“Good.  They’re the kind of qualities that’ll keep you alive.”

Xander chuckled and moved Spike into a kissable position, taking full advantage of it, neither of them realising they’d fallen asleep kissing until they woke the next morning.

…

“Oh, shit, fuck, no, no!  Spike!”

Spike woke with a jolt to find himself smothered by bedclothes and boyfriend, with said boyfriend suffering from sheer panic.

“Xander?”

“Wait, you’ll be okay, I’ll fix the drapes, I’ll…you…fuck, how could I have been so careless!”

“Xander…”  Spike struggled from Xander’s protective bundle.  “Special glass, Love, remember?”

“Spe…spec—  Oh.  Oh.  Yes.  Fuck.”

With an unsympathetic snigger Spike sat up and attempted to pull Xander to him, being quickly and thoroughly slapped away.

“Petal.  Think I was about to spontaneously combust?”

Xander glared.

“Not funny.”

“Well, what do you expect?  There’s me, romantic soul that I am, expecting the first waking moments in our new home to be all sweet and fluffy, and instead you’re trying to smother me.”

“Sweet and fluffy, my ass,” Xander grumped.  “And don’t go there!”

“But it is…”

Xander hurled himself at Spike, tackling him and aping the vampire’s growl, but the irritation quickly turned to euphoria, and the tussle became one enthusiastic smooch.

“You’re here.  Spike, you’re actually here.  That was never gonna happen, not in a million years.”

“It was always going to happen.”

“I have taken this way too calmly.  Today…today it’s sinking in and I’m gonna be…unbearable.”

“Unbearable?  Why?  Can’t you think of something new?”

Xander whapped Spike with a pillow and squirmed off the bed, thinking he’d escaped Spike’s revenge until he was two steps from the bathroom door and suddenly snatched up, twisted about, and found himself sitting in Spike’s arms with his legs wrapped around slim hips that were already moving suggestively, jabbing Spike’s erection at his buttocks.

“What are—  We can’t, not like…”

“Tell you what…  Let’s have a nice shag and then we’ll discuss whether or not it’s possible.”

“Spike!  Let me down!  You’ll drop me or…”

“No, I won’t.  Hold on tight and I’ll secure you with…this.”

Spike positioned Xander over his cock and lowered him, too fast for objections or a successful struggle.  With a shuddering gasp Xander accepted the vampire’s erection into his body, still slick and sensitive from their previous session.  Flinging his arms around Spike’s neck in an attempt to find that elusive tight hold, Xander eventually found the best grip, fingers wound firmly into Spike’s hair.  It stung, that grip, and Spike delighted in it, grinning madly as he held a deliciously round buttock in either hand and excitedly bounced Xander up and down his rampant prick.

“Too much,” Xander panted, “Spike…too much.”

“Doesn’t hurt.”

“God, fuck, no, but…”

“On fire, aren’t you?  Inside.”

Xander nodded frantically and made incoherent pleading noises, but Spike didn’t pause for a moment; no mercy for Xander’s delicate prostate as it was pounded into a state of extreme arousal.

“Spike…”

“’S’all right, Love, you know how I’ll cool you down.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.  Kiss me.”

“When I can’t fucking breathe?”

“Best time,” Spike laughed, catching Xander’s mouth with his own, easing his pace a little to humour Xander’s need for oxygen.

Xander’s initial panic passed and he trusted Spike not to drop him, as precarious as this felt.  It was extraordinary to be out of control to this extent, knowing Spike’s strength, his determination, and being hopelessly turned on by the knowledge that an orgasm could be battered from him whether he wanted it or not.  Which he did, naturally.  On his own terms.  Or maybe Spike’s.  But surely…

The mental debate was irrelevant.  Spike was picking up speed again, effortlessly and relentlessly guiding Xander’s body up and down his cock until the human was a gibbering wreck once more.  Spotting the perfect tool with which to stimulate Xander’s voyeuristic tendencies, Spike took a few steps across the room, positioning himself perfectly.

“Xander.”

“Uh…”

“Love.  Look.”

With a mighty effort Xander opened his eyes, just enough to see his reflection in a vast mirror that ran from floor to ceiling.  No Spike in this un-hexed glass, and Xander caught his breath as he saw himself floating in mid-air, flushed and sweaty, erection rigid and straining, glossy with pre-come, his balls tight to his body, ready to shoot, his ass stretched and open, appearing to pulse as Spike fucked and fucked.

An erotic overload; Xander reflexively tightened his grip on Spike, crying out and coming despite being untouched, his semen spraying between them as Spike continued to work his lover on his cock, keeping up the pounding rhythm even when Xander was on the verge of passing out.

“Please,” Xander gasped, and that entreaty was enough, Spike roaring triumphantly as he permitted himself to come, quenching the fire inside Xander with chilly spurts of semen that made Xander’s ass reflexively clench around him, milking him until his knees were trembling with the effort of remaining upright.

Staggering to the bed, Spike fell onto it, Xander still clamped to him.

“Knee,” Xander moaned, and Spike lethargically rearranged their bodies, straightening Xander’s left leg and giving the joint a quick, apologetic rub.

Flopping at Xander’s side he threw an arm around him and squeezed.

“I’m yours, Xander.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Totally yours.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Totally.  Yours.”

…

No panic as Xander woke up this time around.  He wriggled out of Spike’s grasp and finally made it to the bathroom, taking his time over his ablutions and cosseting his poor, abused backside before wandering back into the bedroom and gazing out of the picture window.  He watched the birds in the grounds and wondered if any of his regulars would know to follow him here, and he considered the move, whether this really was the right choice for him.  He looked around the bedroom with its plush fittings and pristine fixtures.

“Not exactly me,” he sighed, although he wanted it to be him, he wanted to be the lucky guy with the snazzy house and the fabulous boyfriend.

“You’ll grow into it,” Spike told him as he rolled and stretched out across the bed.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

They smiled at one another, and Xander joined Spike, sprawling over him and nuzzling his neck.  Kisses and cuddles with the fabulous boyfriend in the snazzy house: things could be a lot worse.

“Thank you for last night,” Xander murmured.  “I appreciate how difficult that must have been for you and I’m grateful that you made such an effort.  I think even H may like you eventually.”

“Ah, no, don’t spoil our fun.  I miss the old Rupert, y’know, the one that thought I was utter shite.  Mr Christ Church, Economics, was obviously contaminated with a Watcher-esque brand of inane pomposity at Oxford and I rather like that.”

“I’m sure he’d be very flattered to hear it.”

“I like a challenge.”

“That’s what Simone’s for.”

“Nah.  Bloody pushover, just like you.  The whole gig was easier than I expected.”

“You think you can be happy here?”

“Can you?  Still want your old place?”

“I want this place but, like you said, I need to grow into it.  I want this house, and I want you, and I’m gonna be very happy.”

“Nice,” Spike chuckled.  “Count me in.”

“Money.  I want my own money.  I think maybe I could take on some carpentry work.  If I’m sleeping well my concentration’s going to be better, I could go back to that now.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to.  I want to buy you more than tea at the Savoy when we go to England.”

“What about your reports?”

“They’re not going to provide a regular income.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Oh, whatever,” Spike grouched.  “Just don’t desert me every day for hours on end.”

“I won’t do that, I don’t want to.  It’s just that the reports…  You’ll help me, won’t you?  To write the report about Escolet?”

Spike nodded.

“And I’ll make sure you get a small fortune for it.  Then you won’t need to…”

“Yes, I will.  Occasionally.  Does that sound better than regularly?”

“Barely.”

That’d do as a yes.  Xander sighed contentedly and snuggled.  Wrapped in Spike’s embrace it was easier to think about the uber-nasty’s invasion of his person.

“What do you remember most about the Dead Guy Event?” he asked Spike.  “I know there’s a lot to choose from but…”

Spike gave a caustic snort.

“For you, maybe.”

“For you?”

“Do you remember when he took you over?  Or rather, what do you remember from then?”

“Very little.  It was like…he had the run of the house, and I was locked in the attic.”

“You don’t know what he said to me?”

“No.”  Xander had the mandatory bad feeling about this.  “Do I want to?”

“I doubt it.  But…  No, doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does.”  Xander prised himself from Spike’s increasingly tense hold and leaned up, reaching across and turning Spike’s face to him, seeing the distress there.  He was suitably appalled.  “You have to tell me.  You have to.”

“Honestly, what’s to tell?  He was a sly, manipulative bastard, you can guess what he said.”

“Tell me.”

Spike pulled away and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for his jeans.

“Fancy breakfast?  I’m not much of a cook but I’ll have a go if you like.”

“Spike, you have to…”

“What?” Spike snapped.  “I have to be made miserable just to satisfy your curiosity?”

Xander was rapidly at Spike’s side, arm around him despite the ‘fuck off’ attitude.

“If there’s something making you miserable I want to know about it.”

“I didn’t say…”

“Yes, you did.  However you phrased it, yes, you did.”

“I’m not prepared to…”

Spike began to stand but Xander was ready for that, quickly toppling Spike back onto the bed and straddling him, hands pressed flat to Spike’s chest as if, by some miracle, that could keep him there if he really wanted to escape.  A tinge of gold in his eyes, Spike glared meanly.

“You know what a nuisance I can be if I want something,” Xander reminded him.  “You may as well get it over with.”

This was actually, Spike reasoned, a good position to be in, especially if there was a possibility of distracting Xander from his interrogation.  He very pointedly began to study Xander’s body, gaze meandering down the man’s smooth skin, until—  Scars.  Oh, fuck.  Scars.  No wonder Xander hadn’t tried to put a halt to the wandering attention, he had Spike exactly where he wanted him.  Spike looked back up to Xander’s face and saw.  Xander knew him, knew how his mind worked, knew when to let him hang himself with his own rope.  Pleasantly weak from that, from the thrill of being known, Spike was no longer prepared to fight; he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

“He could see straight through me,” Spike confessed with some difficulty.  “Escolet.  He could see how desperate I am.  Desperate to belong, to stop losing.  More than desperate not to lose you.”

“You didn’t,” Xander assured, “remember you didn’t.”

“But I could have.  And…when he said he was keeping your body, he said…  He told me he’d keep me too, and that way I’d never lose you.”

“What an asshole, did he really think…”

“That I’d be tempted?  Yes.  Yes.  I was, Xander.  For one terrible, self-centred billionth of a second I was tempted.”

“That long, huh?”

Making a joke of it for Spike’s sake, but Spike could hear that Xander was shaken by his admission.  Honesty.  This needed honesty.  More honesty.  However much it hurt.

“He said he’d learn to love me.  Something I’d never get from the real you.”

“He—  Tell me you didn’t believe that.”

“Xander…  I…”

“I’m telling you now, don’t believe that,” Xander insisted, emphatically and with a thump to Spike’s chest as if he could pound reality into the vampire.

“We’ve never said…”

“That’s right, we haven’t, because we know all about tempting fate.  But I mean what I can say.  I’m yours.  Mind, body, soul, heart, entirely, yours.”

“And I’m yours,” Spike added softly, still in awe of those potent words.

“Yes.  He was wrong, he was very, very wrong.”  Xander climbed off Spike’s lap and pulled the vampire to his feet, holding and kissing him, kissing him and, more than ever, meaning it.  “C’mon.  I’ll make breakfast.  We can talk about moving furniture around and spare rooms and making a library to impress Giles and…”

“Not talk about Dead Guy?”

Xander paused in thought before venturing,

“How about we ditch the report?  I’m a medium, not a writer.”

“I write, you edit.”

“You write, I edit, you re-edit.”

“I write, you edit, I re-edit, we make a huge pile of dosh,” Spike concluded.

Hmmm.

“Tell Giles…we’ll take a cheque.”

…

“You’ll soon settle in,” Spike assured Xander over their very late breakfast.  “At the moment there’s nothing of yours here…”

“Except for you,” Xander smugly interjected.

“Except for me,” Spike agreed.  “Once you have your own things around you…”

“How about yours?  Do you have stuff?  I don’t even know where you live in LA.”

“I have a few mementoes.  Nothing too offensive,” Spike grinned.

“Oh, joy.  Don’t tell me, surprise me.”

“What we need is a nice local.”

“A nice local what?”

“A local.  A pub.  Bar.  Beer, pool, darts, music, somewhere we can adopt and piss off the regulars.  I know you didn’t go out much before, but if I’m with you…”

Xander was already nodding.

“Yeah, that’d be good.  I used to like The Bronze.  No having to think where to go, it was automatically The Bronze.”

“Don’t know what there is around here, but we can investigate.”

“Walking distance would be nice.”

“We’ll have a look around.”

Xander nodded again, and finished up his coffee.

“How soon is too soon to start planning for Christmas?”

“Whenever you like.  There are a lot of people to coordinate so…”

“You think they’ll all come?”

“I don’t think you could keep ‘em away with exploding fortifications.”

“Taking nothing for granted here: does this house actually have exploding fortifications?”

“There are some buttons in the basement it might be fun to play with.”

A mischievous look passed between them, but before they had a chance to act on it, Xander’s cell phone rang.  Leaving the table and following the ringtone to his coat, Xander retrieved and answered the phone, turning his back on Spike as he wandered away, taking a monosyllabic part in what appeared to be a very one-sided conversation.

Once Xander was out of sight, Spike took one of the unused linen napkins from a pile they’d discovered, rummaged in the kitchen drawers for a pen, and then began to write.  He may have destroyed the crap poetry but he hadn’t forgotten it.  Listening carefully to ensure that Xander was still occupied, he wrote down the only verse that he felt had any merit – and that would be emotional rather than technical – then went to the bedroom to hide the napkin in Xander’s duffel.  Xander would appreciate the gesture, Spike knew, earning him a few good boyfriend points.  He also knew that Xander wouldn’t notice the flaws, he’d only see the words and the sincerity behind them.

This room already held some rather splendid memories; Spike lounged on the bed and rubbed himself through his jeans as he closed his eyes and re-lived having Xander at his mercy, trapped on his cock.  He’d have to get Zooza up here at Christmas, let him hex the mirrors.  Spike thought about him and Xander watching themselves fuck one another silly and rubbed a little harder.

“Spike.”

Spike slitted a single eye, peering at Xander’s gloomy face.

“Love?”

“I have to go,” Xander said as he hurriedly began to pack.

“What?  Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Why?  Or rather, who?”

“Nobody you know.”

“One of your bony-arsed fan club then,” Spike grouched.

“Yep,” Xander agreed, quickly gathering up the last of his belongings.  “I’m sure they didn’t do it just to inconvenience you, but one of the friends I’ve made here is at death’s door and the family would like me to pay a visit.”

“Oh.  I didn’t realise.”

“No, you didn’t.  I have to go.”

Spike watched, sour-faced, as Xander strapped on his knee brace and finished dressing.

“Urgent, is it?  I thought we could…”

“Spike,” Xander snapped.  “My friend has had three strokes in the past year, this latest one was massive and he’s dying.  I want to say goodbye.”

“But you can speak to him anytime.”

“For fuck’s sake!  Don’t be so damn selfish.”  Spike gave a dismissive shrug.  However much that irritated Xander he refused to get into a row, not when he had more important things on his mind.  “If you’re staying here, gimme the car keys.”

“I’ll drop you off.”

“If I was at home I could’ve walked in ten minutes.  Maybe this place is a bad idea.”

“Oh, fine.  Fucking fine!”

Spike stormed off and Xander glared after him, resenting the attitude, upset at the news, and itching to call Henry to ask to be collected and taken to where he really should be.

“I have responsibilities,” Xander said to the absent vampire.

“I know,” Spike agreed as he walked back into the room and fished under the bed for his boots.  “And I’m a contrary, self-centred bugger.  You keep your priorities in the right order, don’t let me try to take over or you’ll end up hating me.”

“You are a priority.  But you’ll still be alive tomorrow.”

Spike slung the duffel over his shoulder and they walked down to the garage in silence, both caught up in their own thoughts.  Not a word was exchanged until Spike needed directions, and then nothing more until they were sitting outside the home of Xander’s friend.

“Where are you going now?” Xander asked.  “You need the keys to my house?”

“No.  I’ll go to LA, like you suggested, finish up there.”

“You’re coming back?”

“You want me to?”

“Do I even have a choice anymore?  Since you said…what you said.”

“You can say it, Love.”

“Maybe it’s been said once too often.”

“Don’t you want me to come back?”

“Yes.  Of course I do.”

“Then…I’m coming back.  And there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Xander turned in his seat and pulled Spike into a hug.

“I’m upset right now, I can’t think straight.  But I’ll be okay, and we’ll be okay.”

“It’s the best thing for us, me being able to say what I feel.”

“Yes, I know, I want that.  We need to talk…”

“Or maybe we don’t.  Why can’t we try taking it all for granted?”  Xander agreed with a quick nod, soaking up the comfort of Spike’s presence and dreading being without him for as much as two days.  “I’ll miss you,” Spike said, pre-empting Xander’s own words.

“Me too.”

A brief kiss and Xander forced himself to act, moving to leave the car.

“Is there something I should say?” Spike asked.  “Y’know: your friend.”

“No.”  Xander gave him a sad smile.  “No set text.”  Another quick kiss.  “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“Do.”

“I may need to talk about…” Xander apologetically warned Spike, gesturing to the house.

“I’ll listen,” Spike assured.

Xander climbed out of the car and collected his duffel from the trunk before making his way up to the front door of the shabby little house.  Spike observed as an equally shabby, stick-thin old woman greeted him and was compassionately embraced.  Jealousy came and went, as Spike knew it must, because this was Xander, and this was what Xander did.  Hard to be possessive over a man who had to constantly give a share of himself away, be it time or attention or affection.  Hard not to be possessive when Spike wanted it all.

“You’re mine,” Spike whispered at Xander’s disappearing back, disgruntled, yet appreciating why there was no last look in his direction.  “And I’m yours.”

Still astounded by the peace that statement – that sentiment – brought him, Spike repeated it to himself as he drove away and concentrated on the lonely road that took him back to LA.

…

“Hey, Baby.  It’s…nine-forty…something in the morning, just got home.  …   You must be sleeping.  I’m going to try.  That’s probably a joke.  …  Wish you’d answered the phone, I could really do with hearing your voice right now.  …  Albie – that’s my friend – he’s gone, it was all very calm and quiet and I’m glad I was there.  Specially for Rita.  His wife.  I know we were all expecting this, but it’s heart-breaking.  She’s devastated.  …  Can’t imagine how that feels.  To love someone for fifty years, to be together for fifty years, and then…no more.  I was falling apart losing you after a couple days.  …  Makes me think of you and Dru and…I don’t know if I can help, if there’s any way I can bring her through for you, but I’m willing to try if it means finding you some closure.  …  This is…  I miss you, I want to be with you.  I feel so lonely.  …  You’re coming back, right?  Please come back, Spike, I know I wasn’t that nice when you left, but…  …  Okay, you don’t want to hear me whining.  I’m going to try to get some sleep, and I promise you I’ll eat later, I won’t go straight back to what you hate me doing.  …  And I’ll pack.  That’s…positive.  I’ll pack.  New home.  Cool.  Make sure you ask people when they can make the party.  …  Okay.  …  Okay.  …   You’d think I’d be used to being without you after the past few weeks, but I’m not and I hate it.  Even knowing you’re coming back.  ‘Cause you are, I know that.  I do know that.  But this is…  …  Where did you go when I was in hospital?  Where were you when I came home without you?  I was never going to ask, I made up my mind to respect your privacy unless you offered to tell me, and if we were face to face I wouldn’t ask, I know.  But…  …  Sorry, none of my business.  …  Okay.  …  I’m really going this time.  …  I miss you, Baby.  …  Bye.”

…

“Bloody voicemail.  S’pose I can live with it if it means you’re asleep.  …  Xander…  I should’ve stayed, shouldn’t I?  Just plain sodding ignorant to drive off when you’re going to be needing me, and why didn’t I figure that out?  I’ve got a lot to learn, haven’t I?  …   I will, Love, know that.  And of course I’m coming back, and I’ll show you how it feels to have someone for fifty years without losing them.  Take that as a threat if you like.  …  Why does it matter where I went when I wasn’t with you?  There’s nothing to be scared of, nothing that’s going to lure me away from you.  No questionable liaisons I forgot to mention.  And you know I had to deal with the Vree’vathets, so I was with them for a bit.  …  You don’t really need to…  …  I went away, nowhere in particular, just got myself lost.  I needed time to figure it all out, deal with my weakness.  …  It didn’t take long to realise that I’d walked away from my strength.  …  Love, I…  …  I left you—  Empty your bag after you hear this, I left something for you.  Had a fit of wishing I hadn’t, and now I’m glad I did.  Nothing much, but…something.  …  Damn it, I’ve got to go, there’s this meeting that’s a big deal for some reason they won’t tell me yet, but I promise you I won’t get involved in anything that’ll stop me coming home, all right?  Nothing will stop me coming home to you.  …  You’re everything to me, Xander.”

…

Barely conscious, having slept due to sheer exhaustion brought about by emotional upheaval, Xander groped for his phone and switched it on.  Delighted to find that he had a message from Spike, though frustrated to hear that he hadn’t missed him by more than half-an-hour, Xander listened intently before re-playing the call several times, hanging onto every word and longing for his partner’s return.

He made coffee and allowed himself to wake a little before collecting his duffel bag from where he’d abandoned it that morning and up-ending it on the living room floor, flicking his own belongings aside and looking for whatever Spike had left him.  A napkin.  He’d left a napkin.  The huh? moment passed, and Xander investigated further, finding Spike’s words and reading.  Reading again.  Wiping his eyes and reading, hoarsely, aloud…

“You touched this wounded heart
And I began to heal.
A skill I thought long lost
Yet I began to feel.
All love perceived discarded,
In this world: cold, cruel, retarded.
You touched this wounded man
And I began to heal.”

Xander clutched the napkin to his chest and rocked.

…

“Hey, Baby, I know you’re in your meeting and won’t get this message yet.  I wanted you to know I found what you left for me, and thank you for sharing that, and…  …  Don’t worry about me, I’m not crying, not really, I’m just…  Over-emotional.  You should be glad you’re that far away, after all.  …  But…me too, Spike.  Kinda.  I had my friends and my work and my home, but I didn’t have what I needed.  I didn’t actually know what I needed but it turned out to be you.  I couldn’t even see what I’d lost until you showed me.  You’re my healing, and I—  …  Sorry.  …  ‘Kay, pulling myself together.  …  Okay.  …  I didn’t mind you leaving, don’t feel bad about that.  I think if I’d said something you would have stayed.  We both have a lot to learn.  …  About the house – home – I was thinking if we—  Ah, fucking hell, I can’t do this any more.  I don’t care if it’s tempting fate, you promised me fifty years and I’m going to hold you to that.  …  I…  …  I love you, Spike.  I love you.  More.  I’m crazy about you.  It’s scary and unquestionable and intense and…  I’m so in love with you.  You must already know that.  I hope you already know that.  I love you.  …  Now I’ve gotta go and be weepy and pathetic.  And pack.  …  Bye.  Again.  …  I love you.”

…

“Xander.”

“Hey, you.  Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”

“I was thrown out.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I got your message and made a bit of a fuss.”

Xander could hear the laughter in Spike’s voice and laughed too.

“Cool.”

“Xander…that’s about the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so worried.”

“I’m not, I’m…I’m…  I don’t know what I am.”

“You’re overwrought.”

“Not in a ‘I don’t know what I’m saying’ sense.”

“I know that.  But you’ve been through a lot the past few months, now you’re in mourning, and…”

“I’m fine, Spike, really.”

“I’ll be home soon to make a bit more of a fuss.  Apparently, it’s what I’m good at.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I…  …  Bugger, they’re calling.  I’ve got to go back in, Love.”

“’Kay.”

“There’s something I want you to think about, though.  This is destined to be the greatest love affair of our lives.”  Appreciating the reference and too moved to respond, Xander gave up trying to control his raging emotions and pointlessly nodded as he mopped his eyes.  “You all right?” Spike asked, although he could guess the cause of this temporary silence.

“Yeah,” Xander croaked.  “Strange brand of happy.”

“Good, you stay that way until I get there.”

“’Kay.”

“And, Xander…  I love you too.”

“Yes.”

“Does this make us cowards?  Saying what matters most when we’re miles apart?”

Xander gave a tearful laugh.

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

“Very sensible.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Love.  Meantime, look after yourself.”

“Love you, Spike.”

Spike sighed contentedly.

“And if they think they’re going to get any sense out of me today…”

…

Spike could hear music playing as he walked up to the house and he smiled to himself, relieved that it wasn’t something sombre and maudlin, knowing that Xander would be feeling the benefit of the upbeat melody and hopefully agreeing that, yes, his baby did care just for him.

It was terrifically important to Spike that Xander had managed to hang onto the strange brand of happy and, although he’d been reassured by the necessarily brief and superficial conversations they’d had since the conversation, it made him feel so much better to be here and able to judge Xander’s state of mind for himself.  Talk to Xander and the man always swore he was fine, even when he was falling apart.

Stomach a mass of knots, Spike rapped on the front door and only had to wait seconds for the door to be flung open and his arms to be full of kissing, hugging boyfriend.  Initial welcome dealt with, Xander danced Spike into the living room, navigating their way through the bags and boxes that contained Xander’s previous life.

“Hi,” Xander said, somewhat breathlessly.  “I didn’t know when to expect you but…”  He gestured at the clutter.  “I’m ready to go.”

“Have you slept?”

“No,” Xander replied perkily.

“Eaten?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.  You’re looking well for it.”

Xander laughed and jubilantly hugged Spike again.

“I’m so excited.”

“You’re sure then?  About the move.”

“Absolutely.”

“’Cause I’d come to terms with living in this dump.”

“No.  Me: lucky guy, snazzy house, fabulous boyfriend.  I want.”

“You want, you get,” Spike promised, and he drew Xander close and kissed him gently.  “Even the trampoline.”

“Shall we go?  It’s probably only one trip, I don’t have that much to move.”

“First…”  Spike waited until Xander stopped fidgeting and met his eyes.  “I am sorry about your friend, Xander.  I got that all wrong…”

“No.”

“Yes.  But I’ll learn – I have learnt.  Hardest part is…I hate to see you hurting.”

“That’s life, Spike.  Death.  It’s natural.  Painful, but natural.  I know you worry about me, but I really am okay.  And I’ve spoken to him today – to Albie – and to Rita, and…  Remember you said that you thought I was better at what I do after the uber-nasty?  Total overreaction to that at the time, but I think you’re right.  I can’t really explain the difference, but the contact with Albie was effortless compared to how it would have been six months ago.”

“Like the uber-nasty…de-furred your psychic pipes?”

“Uh…  You know that no-one else in the entire universe would’ve put it like that and…possibly, yes.”

“Does this mean the ghosts can bother you more easily?”

“No, it means I can communicate more easily.”

“Think you’ll ever learn to keep them quiet?”

“Probably not.  But I have no real idea of what’s doable.”

“I hope not, actually, or I’ll be redundant.”

“That better be a joke.”

“Oh, it better, eh?” Spike challenged.  “Why?  What you going to do about it?”

“Umm…  Maybe…”  Xander cupped Spike’s face in his hands and leaned in for a kiss, taking his time and exploring unforgotten territory.  “How’s that?”

“That’s…that’s…  Yes, let’s go.  We can’t shag here.”

“My guy – straight to the point!  You deal with boxes, I’ll walk around, make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

While Spike packed the Mustang and his own Cadillac, Xander checked the house, room by room.  Lastly, he switched off the laptop, feeling the silence fall heavily as the music disappeared.  He could somehow separate the voices from the silence, that was new too, and rather unnerving.  Perhaps after years of craving quiet it was, in truth, the last thing he wanted.  Hadn’t he suspected as much during the temporary hiatus in hospital?

“Ready?” Spike asked from the doorway.

“Yes.  And no.”

“I got a bellyful of butterflies, coming here,” Spike confessed.

“It’s only natural, I guess.  A little anxiety.  Just a little.”  They exchanged a long look before Xander picked up his coat from the back of the nearest armchair and pulled it on.  He tucked the laptop under his arm.  “I have to drop off the keys.”

“It’s gone three in the morning.”

“I’ll do it quietly.  And then it’s done.  The Xandman is movin’ on!”

“I could follow you ‘round.”

“No.  You just…  I’ll meet you at…home.  Home,” Xander repeated with a smile.

Another protracted look, full of the deepest affection.

“I love you,” Spike said, because he had to.

Xander’s face crumpled with emotion and he hurried across the room, throwing his free arm around Spike’s neck.

“Thank you,” was all he could say.  “Thank you.  Thank you.”

…

Impressed that the gates and garage door magically opened for him as he approached, and oblivious to the little black box of technical wizardry that Spike had left in his glove box to trigger aforementioned portals, Xander re-entered the new house feeling as if he’d had some kind of cosmically decreed welcome.

He found Spike sitting on the living room floor amid his own assorted baggage, and surrounded by music downloaded from what was once Xander’s personal stereo.

“The sound system is great,” Xander said as he turned a circle on the spot, trying and failing to locate the cleverly concealed speakers.

“I thought you’d like it.  Wait till you see the telly.”

Xander couldn’t trace the TV either, so he turned his attention to Spike’s belongings, fighting the urge to instantly begin prying into various packing crates.

“I had everything delivered,” Spike stated the obvious.  “I wanted to travel light.”

“What is all this stuff?”

“Most of it’s chess sets, thanks to you.”

Xander chuckled and knelt beside Spike.

“How about the rest?  Fifty pairs of jeans, all black.  One hundred t-shirts, also, coincidentally, all black.”

“Are you criticising my haute couture?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“And it’s not all black.  I have a red shirt somewhere.  It might’ve seen better days, but…”

“Can I buy you something to…”

“No,” Spike responded with the speed of a slamming man-trap.  “I’ll dress me, you concentrate on…undressing me.”

“My clothes sense has improved greatly over the years,” Xander pointed out, pretending to take umbrage.

Spike turned a scathing look on his partner.

“Now, how would you put this?  You are wearing the ugliest shirt since shirtville had an explosion at the ugly factory.”

Xander’s hands came up to spread protectively over his chest.

“Kirsty chose it for me.  She likes green.”

“Green?”

“Okay, she likes bright, and she likes lime.”

“She likes slime?  That explains a lot.”

“She.  Likes.  Lime,” Xander over-enunciated.  He removed his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and fished out a photograph of the little girl in her last Halloween costume.  “See?”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell her that green fairies are the evil ones?”

“I need a photo of you.  I need to carry it everywhere and show it off and bore people rigid with it.”

“The kind of pose I have in mind won’t be boring, Petal.  Although, rigid might be a side-effect.”

“Nuh-uh.  There will be no sharing of the private pictures of the private parts.  Capisce?”

“Hmm, you know capisce, I know ciao…  How about we hit Rome and flex our extensive Italian vocabularies?”

“I don’t have—  Rome?  Rome in Italy?  Seriously?”

“Why not?  No raiding the domestic budget, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that.  I pull a few strings, earn some extra dosh, we spend it.  What could be simpler?”

Xander looked away, suddenly self-conscious.  He spoke quietly.

“Simpler would be…you stay at home, out of danger, and humour my fear of losing you and us and…at least until I get used to this whole situation.”

Spike took a serious look at Xander, trying to judge if any of that statement was flippant.  No.  It wasn’t.

“I can do that,” he said, and Xander’s warily glanced back.  Not entirely sure whether or not his worries would be arbitrarily dismissed, Xander was pleasantly reassured by the sincerity he saw and heard.  Spike gave him an understanding smile.  “Be nice to have some settling in time, eh?  Plus I need to worm my way into your friends’ affections so they’ll help me persuade you to go on the telly.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“And in the very next scene…” Spike taunted, recycling a line of Xander’s and reminding him of a moment in Lestor, when the very next scene, and the next, and many, many nexts, had featured Spike doing exactly what Xander had needed, and doing it brilliantly.  So what if Xander was vaguely aware that plenty of questionable words and deeds had been discarded from his memory, he was a man in love and selective amnesia was entirely appropriate.

“I’ve got it so bad,” he groaned, knocking Spike flat on the carpet and dropping onto him.

No argument from Spike, and certainly no objection to the passionate kisses that ensued.

“You think you’ve got it bad,” Spike said as he rolled Xander onto his side, determined that any pressure be removed from Xander’s left elbow.  “That meeting I got thrown out of: I know it was important, but after I heard your message all I could think of was you saying you loved me.  If they’d’ve told me the world was ending in four minutes I wouldn’t have cared because, for those four minutes, Xander Harris would be in love with me.”

More kisses, naturally.

“Did you ever find out what the meeting was about?  If it is important, will you have to go back?”

“I agreed I’d be staying at home, out of danger…”

“That’s fine in principle, but I know…”

“I’m staying put for now.  Besides, I’ll give Dylan a call, and it’ll be all the usual twaddle, you wait and see.  Just because Wesley turns up and…”

“Wesley?”

“Yeah.”

“The Wesley?”

“Yeah.”

“Dead Wesley?”

“That’d be the one.”

“You never thought to mention this?”

“I told you everything went out of my head when I got your message.”

“And it’s stayed out of your head ever since?”

“I was chuffed to see him, but…  He’s not in love with me.  Priorities, Xan,” Spike grinned.

“And Wesley turned up to—  Doesn’t anyone stay dead any more?”

“Apparently not.  Much more of this and you’ll be out of business.”

“That would be terrible.”  Xander gave Spike a seductive smile, his hand wandering to Spike’s waistband and pinging open the button.  “I’d have no other option than to exist purely as your sex toy.”

“You’re not expecting any fake sympathy around now, I hope.”

“Nuh-uh.  Every cloud, silver lining, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“Always the great philosopher,” Spike chuckled as he leant in for more kisses, but both men came to an abrupt halt as the opening notes of a new song surrounded them.

They stared cautiously into one another’s eyes as memories swept back.

‘Take me now, Baby, here as I am.
Pull me close, try and understand.
Desire is hunger, is the fire I breathe.
Love is a banquet on which we feed…’

“I’ll turn it off,” Spike said edgily as he twisted onto his hands and knees, crawling toward the player.

Xander tackled Spike, dragging him around, face to face.

“No, you won’t.”

“You think I’ve forgotten the connotations of this song?”

“Spike…”

“Tell me it doesn’t remind you of me taking advantage of you.  Again.”

Shaking his head, Xander took both of Spike’s hands in his and held on tightly.

“Remember in the hospital, that night when you told me you had to fuck me and I had to let you?”

“That’s right, put the boot in,” Spike muttered sourly.  “Any other examples of me being a total cunt you want to resurrect?”

“You want to forget certain arcs of our learning curve.  Why?”

“Don’t be dense.”

“Is it because it makes you feel bad, or because it turns you on and you think it shouldn’t?”

“Fuck off, Xander.”

“You don’t meant that,” Xander insisted, squeezing Spike’s hands.

“No, I don’t.  Maybe…‘shut up and kiss me’ would have been more appropriate.”

Xander shuffled a little closer, pressing a kiss to Spike’s cheek, feeling the lean as the vampire gratefully accepted the gesture.

“Gonna answer the question?”

Spike shrugged, took his time.

“Both,” he eventually admitted.  “I shouldn’t have pulled that with you – the scar – but…  To just…have you…”  Spike sighed defeatedly.  “Ah, bollocks.”

“Hey, Baby, you’re not screwing things up for us.  I promise.”

“You think?”

“I have mixed feelings about this song too.  I’ve always felt bad that you had to use the scar to…”

“Why should you feel bad?  I exploited the weakness I warned you about, something I warned you not to buy into.”

“I don’t care that you simply took what you needed, and…  Spike, I don’t want to see that expression on your face, and…  Look at me.”  Spike begrudgingly did as he was ordered.  “I care about giving you what you need, I want to do that.  I want to be the one you need, and that moment…that was the point in time when I knew it, I absolutely knew how much you needed me.  Besides…you know if I really mean it when I say no.”

“Do I?  You say it and…”

“Half the time I’m still trying to make up my mind about what I want.  You kinda…cut to the chase.”

“That’s not right.”

“Says the soul,” Xander exclaimed sarcastically.  “I think the demon has better instincts.  Maybe your inner demon appeals to my inner hyena, and…  Why are we even discussing this?”

“We’re…”

“All I ever want to do nowadays when I hear this song is fuck.  It makes me feel strong, and needed, and horny, and…I want to fuck.  You.  I want to fuck you and make you feel like you made me feel.”  Xander took Spike’s left hand and ushered it beneath the slime green shirt, holding it to the very solid erection that was impatiently demanding attention.  “Does that convince you at all?”

Spike didn’t have a chance to reply before Xander was pulling and shoving him about, yanking his jeans down to be trapped around his ankles by his boots and clambering between his legs; Spike scrabbled to unfasten Xander’s fly, pushing his pants to his thighs and groaning as their naked bodies were soon touching in exactly the right places.

“Do it, Love, fuck me, fuck me now.”

“Shit,” Xander gasped between frantic kisses, “no lube.”  Spike quickly bit into the base of his own right thumb, manoeuvring Xander so there was space to dribble blood along his rigid cock.  “That’s…that’s…  It’s fucking horrible and…and…do I care?”

“Don’t care,” Spike panted.  “Fuck me.  Don’t be gentle.  Fuck me, Xander.  Need me.  Fu—”

Spike’s words morphed into a throaty groan as Xander unceremoniously breached tight muscles to force himself deep into Spike’s body.  Sucking and gnawing at Spike’s neck, Xander began to drag his cock in and out of the vampire’s tightness, grinning against grazed skin when he felt a bundle of material and leather at the back of his thighs, Spike urging him on to a frenzied pace with his trapped feet.

“I love you,” Xander whispered, slowing his movements.  “I love you, Spike.  That song…  I think that’s when I knew.”

“You should have said.”

“I didn’t absolutely know I knew.”

“You still…”

“No.  We got this right.”

“But I was already…”

A distractingly hard and fast fuck resumed; emotions swept aside by glorious sensation, Spike moaned and thrust up against Xander, rubbing his dripping erection on Xander’s belly.

“How does this feel, Baby?  Huh?  Good?”

“Good.  Good.  Great.  Fuck me, Love.”

“Does it feel even better now you’ve said what you wanted to say?” Xander asked as he fucked more enthusiastically still, gazing into Spike’s face and willing Spike to be himself, wanting him to know he could be without hesitation.

“Love.”

“You’re mine, Spike.”  An extraordinary sound, a cross between a snarl and a whimper escaped Spike’s throat.  “Mine.  Jesus, that thought goes straight to my balls.”

Watching beautiful blue eyes become a stunning gold as Spike’s true face appeared, Xander’s rhythm wobbled and faltered.

“Do I scare you?” Spike had to ask.

“Uh-uh.  It’s all I can do not to come.”  Inner muscles clenching on Xander’s heated flesh, Spike rolled his hips.  Xander shuddered, eyes screwed tightly shut as he fought for control, determined not to let this wonderfully wicked man draw the orgasm from him quite yet.  And he wasn’t above retaliation.  “Spike.  Tell me you’re mine,” he crooned, and that worked perfectly, Spike trembling to a halt as he zoomed to the brink of his own climax.

They stared at one another, flushed with lust, but caught up in the humour of the situation.

“We’re good,” Spike smirked.

“Oh, yeah,” Xander agreed.

Spike’s brows twitched suggestively.

“Bodes well.”

Xander nodded, glazed and breathless as Spike’s hips gave another tortuous revolution.

“You think we can leave the gloating till later?”

“Go for it, Love.  You fuck your Spike.”

With a yell of pure elation, Xander abandoned all restraint and slammed into Spike at just the right angle: the vampire’s exultant cry and arching body, the spatter of cool semen across their bellies and chests being all the encouragement Xander needed to grind deep and give himself over to the manic ecstasy of his own release.

“I love you,” he whispered, again and again, his message, movements and kisses gradually transforming from frantic to tender.  Spike’s fingers dragged through his sweat-damp hair, persuading unruly strands away from Xander’s face and out of their kisses.  “I love you, Spike,” Xander sighed a last time, indulging his hormones and letting consciousness drift as he felt himself cuddled into a secure embrace.

However tempted he was to doze with Xander, Spike remained awake and enjoyed his developing feelings for his recently bonded mate, recognising the instinctive need to stay protectively alert in these insufficiently familiar surroundings.  It would be very satisfying, he considered, to learn to accept this house as his own, with Xander at his side.  Very satisfying and…exactly what was going to happen.  As if by some creepy mystical intervention, The Impossible Dream was next on the playlist, and Spike sang to Xander, tears moistening his eyes as he realised quite how ferociously he loved the man he had almost lost on so many occasions.  Looking back he couldn’t understand the anger he had felt at times, how he had risked hurting and alienating Xander for…  What?  To this Spike, here and now, it made so little sense he couldn’t even construct a working hypothesis.

“It’ll never happen again,” he promised Xander.  “I’ll never hurt you.”

Xander stirred and blearily blinked himself to semi-consciousness.

“Is it morning?  Tell me it’s not morning.”

“Shall I put us to bed?”

At Xander’s weary nod they began to untangle themselves, Xander wincing over his reddened joints.

“My knees have rug burn.”

“Yeah, and you don’t want to know about my arse.”

“I love your ass.”

“Even when it feels like it’ll glow in the dark?”  Jeans still at his ankles, Spike turned his back to Xander, displaying his shapely posterior and running his hands over the abused skin.  Xander took a good look, and his body twinged from brain to balls.  “Not big on sympathy is it, your knob,” Spike commented smugly as he turned back to see the effect he’d had on Xander.

Spike drew up his jeans, leaving them unfastened and with his half-hard cock hanging tantalisingly out the fly.

“Bed?”

“Bed,” Xander agreed.

“Sleeping?”

Xander gave Spike the most wicked look; the vampire’s cock sprang from half-mast to full salute.  Xander saw and smiled.

“Waking up.”

…

They barely saw daylight the next day, rising late enough to be officially on vampire time.  Spike’s idea of personalising the living room proved to be the initial stage of moulding the sofa in front of the TV to the shape of his much admired backside, but Xander wandered around, taking care to place his few belongings where they would most effectively assist him in coming to terms with the fact that this was now his home, and this was the beginning of a newer, shinier life.

Finally returning to the living room, he found Spike wide-eyed with horror and disgust at what he was watching.  Concerned, Xander rushed to check out what Spike had discovered, tutting at his own alarm and prising the remote from Spike’s grip to switch Van Helsing off.

“If you’d asked I could have warned you.  Now you have no-one to blame but yourself.”

Spike shuddered back into mobility.

“Bloody hell, Xan.  A film full of skinned bollocks hanging from the rafters and they’re blaming the likes of me.”

“This not the best time to discuss marriage and babies then?” Xander teased.  “That’s a shame.  I was hoping to invite proximity to the wedding.  Proximity still has a lot to answer for.”

Spike simply shuddered again before giving in to Xander’s ensuing demands and ripping the lids off packing cases, setting aside the green and white marble chess set Xander chose for himself, and then making a quick phone call to arrange for the others to be taken away for auction.

“You play chess?” he asked doubtfully as he watched Xander set the board up and place all the pieces in an attractive yet unrecognisable configuration.

“Nope.”

“Want to learn?”

“Nope.”

“Then why…”

“It’s cool.  And it’s pretty.  It goes with…”  Xander scanned the room and found nothing to match the set.  “…stuff.”

Spike picked up a chunky piece and studied it.

“Bishop’s rather phallic.  Ever fancied a marble butt plug?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever considered sticking a chess piece up my ass, no.”

“Shall we give it a go?”

“No, we shan’t.  I know most of the staff at the ER and…and…  Did you seriously steal Bunny’s coat and stethoscope?”

“They’re around here somewhere.  Got a problem for Doctor Spike, have you?”

“Uh…  I may have a swelling he can help with.”

As one they began to search through the remaining boxes, Spike triumphantly producing a white coat just as Xander’s phone rang.

“Don’t answer it,” Spike all but pleaded.

“I have to.  Sorry.  It may be nothing.”

Spike hurled the coat back into the box he’d retrieved it from as Xander went into the hallway to take his call, sulkily dropping back onto the sofa and returning to the TV, flicking and flicking and growling at the lack of entertaining death and destruction.

It was a good half-hour before Xander returned.  Spike tried to ignore his troubled expression, focusing on MTV and managing this false detachment for all of a minute.

“What is it, Love?”

“I have to work tonight.”

“This isn’t your usual stint.  What’s happened?”

Xander sat alongside him and once again switched off the television.

“One of the other mediums can’t make it and Doug’s working late so…”

“There’s more, what is it?”

Taking Spike’s hand, Xander played with his fingers while thinking something through, finally turning to face him with an anxious smile.

“Flora.  You haven’t met her yet, she was meant to be taking tonight’s reading.  You’re going to love her when you meet her, she’s the sweetest…”

“Don’t make me jealous,” Spike warned.

“Spike, she’s in her seventies.”

“Okay, I’ll give her a little leeway.  You were saying?”

Xander took a deep breath, a mental step toward the calm place, and continued.

“Last night some punk ran into her with his mountain bike, broke her hip and stole her purse while she was lying on the sidewalk in agony.”

Spike bridled on Xander’s behalf.

“And?”

“Everyone knows who did it but this little bastard has an alibi so the cops can’t touch him.  He always has a frigging alibi.”

“And?”

“I, er…  I want you to have a word with him.  Like the word you had with Toby’s pals?”

Spike sat back in amazement.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

“Neither can I.  But this kid is totally out of control, and it’ll do him good to have the shit scared out of him.”  Xander paused for brief, superficial thought.  “You’ll do it, right?”

A slow grin broke out over Spike’s face.

“It’ll be my pleasure.”

“Just don’t get caught.”

“Remember who you’re talking to, Love.”

“Yeah.  And try not to be seen.  You’re pretty distinctive.”

“Then I’ll…undistinct myself.  Easy enough to do.”

“Good.”  Xander snuggled up to Spike, squeezing his hand tightly.  “Good.”

“You sure about this?  You seem…”

“I’m upset about Flora, but I’m sure about the bastard who hurt her.  You scare some respect into him and he may even reach seventeen.  He deserves—  Am I wrong to exploit you like this?”

“Hell, no.”

“I’ve never expected you to be all soul and no demon, but I guess I shouldn’t…”

“Don’t think twice about it.  Ask now, ask whenever.  Between the soul and the demon I have the makings of a great vigilante,” Spike grinned, leaning in to kiss Xander.

The simple kisses quickly became heated, and Xander was barely able to break away.

“I have to go.  Work.”

“I know, I’m not trying to stop you.”

“I haven’t meditated in days, I’m not focused, I’m gonna be…”

“Brilliant.  You’re going to be brilliant.”

Spike sprang to his feet, Xander grabbed him and hugged him hard.

“Again?”

“Xander…  You’re going to be brilliant.”

…

Spike watched Xander from the rear of the auditorium, enjoying the king of the double-handed gesture at work, grinning at this particular favourite manoeuvre as Xander’s hands circled one another like the peddles on a bicycle.

Seeing as he’d only visited the chapel a few times, Spike was surprised by both the welcome he received from Xander’s friends and co-workers, and how comfortable he felt in this homely little place.

At the risk of sounding like Xander, it didn’t seem real.  He’d first walked into this hall a lonely and angst-ridden man, plodding through life and playing his increasingly miscast part with meagre pleasure and growing unease.  He’d returned…not a changed man, but an honest man, an incurable romantic harbouring a demon, and he was flourishing thanks to the consideration and affection of a man who offered a reciprocal love and respect that Spike had never known before.  In fact, he could readily acknowledge a feeling of contentment that, a few short months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined he was capable of experiencing.

Spike tore his attention away from the stage and took a good look at the members of this audience, learning exactly who he was going into battle for.  Character flaws or, as Xander saw them, useful tools, his skills wouldn’t be wasted here.  Sometimes the streets of a country town needed saving more than the world as a whole; spiteful teenagers who hurt old ladies would soon learn to lead more civilised lives and, if necessary, they’d learn the hard way.

A ripple of comment and applause, and Spike turned back to the stage; initial reading concluded, Xander was already moving to the next spirit, fingers compulsively twitching as he urged this one forward.

“O…kay…  I have a mother…grandmother…  Both, same person, so there’s a child and a grandchild involved.  This is about…  …  Thank you, yes.  This is about…a dolls house.”

There was an immediate reaction from the second row and Xander turned his focus on one of the women there as she took a microphone.

“Hey, Xander.”

“Hi, Lise, you okay?”

“Uh…yuh, thanks.”

Xander listened.

“The dolls house…  There are some problems with…  …  It’s a toy, not a treasure.  That’s from your mom.  Let Emmy play with it, it’s a toy not a treasure.”

“Yes, that’s just what she’d’ve said.”

“Your pop made that for you when were younger than Emmy and…”

“I didn’t wreck it,” Lise pre-empted.

Xander laughed.

“Sure you’re not the medium here?”

“I can hear her as if I were.  Good reminder, thank you, Xander.”

Once again Xander concentrated.

“Yep, that’s it, all she wanted to say.”

“You notice she only ever turns up to wag her finger at me?” Lise chuckled as she passed the mic away and sat once again.

“She’s your mom, and whatever the message is, she’s here ‘cause she adores you and Emmy,” Xander smiled, tapping his chest.  “I feel it.”

Spike admired the view as Xander moved upstage for a quick gulp of bottled water and a few muffled words with whoever was lurking in the wings on this occasion.  He was barely into the fantasy of shagging Xander centre stage when the man in question swung back, evidently in strong contact with a new spirit.  Serious and focused and gorgeous with it, Xander listened closely, practically vibrating with excitement.

“This is…  Yes.  …  I have a lady connecting with me, and…  Oh, wow.  Love.  This is all about love…  …  Thank you, Saul.  Okay.”

Xander scanned the auditorium and rapidly homed in on Spike; their eyes met and Xander’s tender smile touched Spike’s soul; in a heartrending instant the vampire’s lusty preoccupation with his partner was replaced by a son’s desperate hope and longing.

Justifiably.

“I have a message…” Xander continued with great satisfaction.  “For William.”

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