The consequences of being missing were waiting for Xander when he and Spike got back to Willow’s.  The reception committee was worried and vociferous and, now they knew of his safety, more than a little cross at Xander’s supposed thoughtlessness.

“What am I?” Xander demanded when he’d had quite enough of the rebukes, “a kid who can’t be let out by himself?  I went for a drive, big deal.”

“You could have let someone know,” Willow repeated for the nth time, slamming drawers and cupboard doors as she put away the implements for the locator spell she’d been having curiously little success with.

“We were worried,” ditto Buffy.

“Just leave him alone, eh?” Spike sighed.  “Long night, I want to get him to bed.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you’d like us to forget that you walked off and left him,” Willow accused.

“Why did you do that?”  Buffy’s voice rose in anger.  “Sunnydale, middle of the night, and you didn’t see him to his car?”

“He’s not entirely safe here, consort or not,” Angel said with an air of weary disappointment.  “You shouldn’t take any chances.”

“Xander was safe,” Spike protested.  “He is safe.”

Angel’s eyes flickered down to the barely discernible bloodstains on the thighs of Spike’s jeans.

“How safe?”

“For fuck’s sake, I am standing right here!”  The shout from Xander shut everyone else up.  “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not in the room.  Don’t talk about me like I’m the idiot child you have to look out for.  How can you blame me for wanting to get away from every damn one of you?”

“Love…” amongst the sudden gabble of voices.

“Shut up, Spike.  All of you, just shut up.”  They did, with varying degrees of perturbation.  “Thank you.”  Xander turned toward the door, turned back.  “If I had the energy I’d leave now.  I have no idea why I came, I don’t want to be here.  I just want to be home, and I’m leaving first thing.”  He looked to Spike.  “With or without you.”

“Xander, we’re concerned and you…”

Xander shook his head at Willow and backed out, turning in the doorway and taking the stairs fast; the bedroom door slammed and everyone in the room found someone else to glare at reproachfully.

“Git,” Spike finally muttered, and at last there was something they could all agree upon.

…

Two minutes in the shower and Spike relaxed against the hard body that swiftly joined him.

“‘With or without you’?” Spike pointedly quoted.

“No,” Xander sighed.  “As if.  We’ll both wait to see Dawn.”  Spike nodded, knowing he’d have got his way eventually but pleased with this immediate fight-free capitulation.  “Are you okay?  Where I…hurt you?  Still can’t believe I…”

“I’m fine; had a drop of blood, be healed by morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Xander…”  Spike paused thoughtfully.  “Shall we never come back here?  Not set foot in this god-forsaken town ever again?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Xander agreed as he pulled Spike’s back tighter against his chest, kissing and nuzzling his shoulders and neck.  “We have to stop whining about being here and make the decision.”

“Then we have to stick to it, whatever faces your bints pull.”

“It suddenly hit me, Spike, when I walked into our bedroom…  Am I cruel to make you stay here?”

“Cruel?”

“That room was your home for five years.  Five years when you should have been with me and I gave you no choice over that, just left you hurting.”

“That room…” Spike mused.  “Where I mourned you.  Cursed you.  Loved you.  Dreamed of you.”  He smiled.  “Wanked over the thought of you constantly.”

“Am I cruel?”

“No.  It’s barely real.  Now’s real, and I’m by your side.  Wherever you go, I go.”

“And wherever I don’t go?”

“You going to tell them while we’re here?”

“They’ll understand, I know they will.  And in future they can come to us, or we can take a break with them and…”

“Share the Seattle effect.”

“Yeah,” Xander chuckled.  “I’m so fucked up it’s not funny.”  Spike turned within Xander’s embrace and gently kissed his partner.  “Don’t tell me what you know,” Xander started awkwardly, “just…tell me this strange stuff won’t last forever.”

“Not forever,” Spike pledged convincingly, still surprised that someone as nosy as Xander wouldn’t want to hear every fact or piece of conjecture that Spike was willing to share.  Then again, Spike had absolutely no wish to discuss the night’s peculiarities: maybe it was a touch of the same-but-different.

Xander returned to nuzzling Spike’s neck, enjoying the vampire’s shivery arousal, hand gliding over a water-slippery belly and onto an already hard cock.

“I want this in me,” Xander whispered as he massaged.

“Yes,” Spike moaned his agreement to that splendid idea.

“Everyone still downstairs?”  Spike nodded.  “Then I think we have to go to bed and have outrageously loud sex.”

“They’d find that very disturbing,” Spike grinned appreciatively.

“I’m counting on it.”

…

When Xander showed his face late afternoon, he was immediately hit with a barrage of fuss.  He’d asked for no special considerations for his birthday but the entire downstairs of Willow’s house was gaudily decorated, he was hugged, kissed and handed a plate stacked with heart-shaped slices of toast, and when he attempted to make his way to the living room sofa he had to wade through a sea of balloons.

“Jay?” he asked Willow as he grinned up at the thick layer clinging to the ceiling.

“He said it was a birthday tradition.”

“In Jake-speak that means I can’t get him to stop doing it,” Xander laughed.

Dawn and Craig arrived, and she brought new enthusiasm with her, only falling quiet when she’d manoeuvred Xander, Willow and Buffy into a traditional group hug with her.  Xander was grateful for the gesture, knowing he had some ground to make up after the events of early morning, but Willow and Buffy seemed keen to put all that aside and he was more than willing to let them.

“I know you said not to buy presents,” Dawn told Xander as she sat him down a short time later, “but you didn’t say not to give presents.”

“I didn’t want…”

“I know, I know, and it’s all about you, isn’t it?” Dawn cheerfully taunted.

“Uh, yeah, it is kinda.  My birthday?”

“Whatever.”  Dawn fumbled in her purse and produced an envelope, handing it over with a satisfied smile.  “You’ll love this.”

“And this,” and Buffy added another envelope.

“And this,” Willow, a third.

Xander regarded the envelopes suspiciously before peering into the first.  CD.  It slid from the wrapping and Xander caught it, reading the handwritten track listing with a growing smile.

“We each did one of our favourite music, ‘cause…you and music.”

“This is great,” Xander said quietly as he studied the songs on each of the CDs, head down to cover just how touched he was at the thought they’d put into his gifts.  “This is so great.”

“My idea,” Dawn declared as she bounced closer and threw her arms around him for another hug; within seconds they were joined by Willow and Buffy, just as Spike walked in.

“Oh, bugger, I thought I’d timed it to miss the mush.”

Dawn wriggled out of the scrum and hurtled over to Spike, throwing herself into his arms with a gleeful squeal.  Many minutes of that then Spike was peeling himself away, crossing to Xander and waiting for his partner to look up before leaning down to give him the gentlest kiss.

“Happy birthday, lovely.”  His fingertips drifted over Xander’s cheek.  “Many more.”

Spike could see the level of emotion Xander was dealing with, and dropped to his knees beside him, supposedly to check out the CDs but allowing Xander to lean in, finding privacy by burying his face in Spike’s neck.

Sudden bustle beyond them as everyone chose to discuss the weather or the balloons or the plans for the evening.

“You all right, love?” Spike asked softly.

“I remembered my birthday last year.”

“Don’t think about that.”

“Couldn’t help it.”

“All that’s over.  Be happy.  Be happy, Xan.”

“I am.”  Xander sat up and repeated that so everyone could hear.  “I am happy.  You make me happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Dawn was with them and hugging yet again.

“What did you give Xander for his birthday?” she asked Spike.

“I think we all heard what Spike gave Xander,” Angel said wryly in passing.

“Damn!  Missed it!” Dawn hissed under her breath.

“Xander doesn’t know about my gift, it’s at home waiting for him.”

“You got me something?” Xander asked, quite taken aback.

“Of course I did.”

“But, we agreed…  What is it?”

“Sur-prise,” Spike told Xander idiot-proof slowly.

“Surprise,” Dawn repeated with irrepressible happiness, away to Craig and clinging to him excitedly.  “Can I tell them now?  I’ll tell them.  No, you tell them.  No, I’ll tell…”

Craig grabbed his girlfriend and covered her mouth while she giggled and squirmed.

“I asked Dawn to marry me,” he told them with a huge grin.  “I think you can guess what she said.”

The announcement was met with more hugging and bouncing and an element of happy sniffling; Spike’s told you so smirk at Xander ended weeks of debate about the inevitability of such an event.  The vampire took his turn congratulating Dawn and throwing warning looks at her now-fiancé, before meeting Angel’s eyes and tipping his head toward the door; they managed to slide out of the room and onto the twilight-murky porch.

They stood in silence for a while, watching the last of the light fade.

“That’s nice,” Spike said in due course.  “The Bit.”

“Yeah.  He’s…  Well, he’ll do.”

“Had a bet on it with Xander.  He’s a thousand quid lighter tonight.”

“I wouldn’t tell Dawn that if I were you.”

Spike snorted with amusement, picturing the consequences: ten minutes enraged plate-throwing, followed by equally deadly demands for her cut of the loot.

Pause.  Long pause.

“Say it,” Spike prompted.

“Say what?”

“It.”

“The…what the hell happened this morning?  That ‘it’?”

“That’s the one.”

Pause.

“What the hell happened this morning?  You looked indescribably bad, you both stank of burning and sex and blood and—”

“More Patrick?” Spike sighed resignedly.

Angel shifted uncomfortably.

“Other than Patrick, something…ancient.  Corrupt.”

Spike nodded his understanding and recognition.

“Impure.  Even by our standards impure.”

“You felt it?”

Xander coming fire.  Spike gave a short, humourless laugh.

“I’m pretty sure I was fucked by it.”

Angel’s head snapped in Spike’s direction but the younger vampire waved away the concern before it could be voiced.

“Do you know what it is?”

“It’s…  Beyond being terrifying I can’t describe it.”

“Xander…?”

Spike swept his hands over his hair, clutched the tense muscles in the back of his neck.

“Xander’s pure.  Despite everything, despite the darkness he says is inside him, I can still feel his purity.  He’s…susceptible, in this place especially; it’s like something used him.  But not.  Maybe it was me, still not right in the head.  I might have been influenced into believing Xander was different.  Or maybe…  Oh, I d’know,” Spike sighed again.

“Not knowing isn’t going to be good enough.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

Angel nodded grimly, flashing Spike several disturbed and disturbing looks that suggested he might be pounding over and trying the concerned and possessive, smooching sire routine again any minute.  Spike very deliberately turned his back and hoped his arse didn’t look too appetizing.

“Are you and Xander staying for tonight?”

“I think we have to.  That lot’ll raise merry hell if he tries to leave before his birthday’s had the life sucked out of it.”

“I could help.”

“Kill them or something?”

“Or something.”

“Xander wants to go home, and I’d take him this minute if I could, but I don’t want him asking me why I’m suddenly so keen to get him out of here.  He wasn’t aware of what happened last night, and I won’t scare him over something that was there and gone and might never come back.  Probably unrelated to the general state of weird, just a case of run-of-the-mill Hellmouth hi-jinks.”

That argument didn’t work on either of them.

“The general state of weird,” Angel repeated thoughtfully.  “Does Xander accept there’s something wrong?”

“Yeah, he accepts.  Not wrong, mind, just…different…”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”

“…and he has a hard time facing up to it.  He doesn’t want anything ruining the life he’s made and who can blame him?  I thought about having a chat with Red, but what can I say?  Can’t give her a heap of could bes, what ifs and almosts and ask her to figure it out.  And then Xander’d have a fit when he found out I’d blabbed, ‘cause he would find out, you know what they’re like.”

“Whether or not you ask Willow for guidance, you have to make Xander face facts.  If there’s something powerful stalking him…”

“Nothing like that has happened before.  It’s this place, and when I get him away from here, he’ll – we’ll – be fine.”

“Are you at all aware of how irresponsible you’re being?”

“It’s beginning to make sense,” Spike ploughed relentlessly on, “the way he instinctively wants to get home all the time, the way he feels safe there, protected.  He is.  Or at least better protected than I can manage alone.”

“This is where Patrick fits in?”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Nothing to do with the ancient whatever…”

“Which is here not there.”

“Just the…”

“General state of weird, yes.”

Angel paused in thought.

“If I trust that you’re taking Xander away from, rather than into danger when you go home…”

“I am.”

“Then I have to accept your theory that Patrick’s protecting him?”  Spike nodded.  “But if Patrick’s protecting Xander why hinder us?  We want the same thing.”

“Obvious, isn’t it?  Safety in ignorance.  Xander isn’t the only one he’s looking out for.”

“I can’t accept that.”

“Because you’re all about control.  You like the stiffy that power gives you.”

“Master vampire, goes with the territory.  I shouldn’t have to tell you that, what the fuck happened to you?”

“There you go, getting all bitchy ‘cause you’re plain ignorant and haven’t been paying attention.  Last ten years of my life, Angelus.  You live it and let’s see you come through as a shiny happy example of perfect mental health and emotional stability.”

“Need a boost to your self-respect?  Then stand up to Patrick.”

“Bollocks to that.  Providing I get Xander home in one piece Patrick can play the great protector all he likes.  You somehow want to wrest the control back…  Well, frankly, this time you’re screwed, mate.”

“We’ll see,” Angel growled.

“Oh, give the heroic posturing a rest, there’s no-one here to impress.  Open-ended pseudo-threats have seriously had their day.”  Another growl and Spike laughed at his grandsire, crossing to slap him amiably on the shoulder.  “And what did you get my darling boy for his birthday?  Better be ridiculously expensive or I’ll tie your balls in a knot.”

“I turned off that abomination in your head, what more could he want?”

Spike considered, remembering Xander’s vehement feelings on the subject.

“Nothing,” he said, astounding Angel with the warm appreciation in his voice.  “You got it absolutely right.”

…

The initial excitement had died down by the time the vampires re-entered the house.  Spike watched as Angel sought out Buffy, holding and comforting her as she tried to deal with the emotional impact of not gaining a brother-in-law but losing a sister.  He felt a well-worn empathy surface and, whether the cause was happy or sad, he deeply resented the inexorable onslaught of loss.  No such thing as a consoling word, so Spike went looking for Xander, finding him in conspiratorial conversation with Willow, approaching from behind and slipping his arms around his partner’s waist, chin coming to rest on a broad shoulder.  He semi-listened in quiet contentment, finding his own comfort in the strong beat of Xander’s heart, the rhythmic caressing of warm hands over cool forearms.

“What do you think?” Xander turned his head and murmured.

“’Bout what?”

“Our present to Dawn and Craig.”

“What of it?”

“We offer to pay for the wedding.  Dawnie gets the best day, anything she wants.”

Spike tilted his head and stared at Dawn sharing whispers with her fiancé; she was positively glowing with happiness.

“Love the Nibblet,” he admitted the obvious to Xander.  “Give her everything.  And persuade her that she should get married at Disneyland or somewhere – anything so that we never have to come back to this bastard place.”

“What’s particularly wrong with this bastard place?” Willow asked.

Spike felt Xander tense and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Watcher’s skills failed you, have they, pet?” Spike snarked.  “Or has my remarkable-only-for-its-fucking-awfulness time in this shit-hole of a town been somehow entertaining in a way I entirely failed to notice?”

Willow rolled her eyes and wandered off to talk to…well, anyone who wasn’t Spike.

“Where did you go?”

“Just wanted a quick word with king of the cowlicks.”

“Anything that matters?”

“Not much.”

“Didn’t want to discuss with him how scary it is to be in a room full of sentimental Scoobies?”

Spike laughed softly, letting Xander believe his half-truth was the whole truth.

“D’you mind having your birthday ambushed?”

“No.  I’m really happy for them.  In an overprotective still-prepared-to-break-the-boyfriend’s-head-if-he-turns-out-evil kinda way.  Plus I’m looking forward to tonight more now the emphasis has been taken off me.”

“You deserve to be the centre of attention.  You’re much prettier than either of them.”

Xander turned within Spike’s arms and returned the embrace.

“I only needed attention when I wasn’t getting any.  Now, I’m all…attentioned up.”

“Looking for a good night then.”

“Y’know, a normal night would be pretty good.  Like normal people in normal circumstances have on their birthdays.  Club, dance, booze…”

“Shag in the toilets, not have to stake anything other than the boyfriend’s arse…”

“You’re so poetic,” Xander chuckled.  “But like I said, pretty good.”

“I’ll see what I can do.  But here…”

“Oh, yeah, you don’t have to remind me about the here factor.  Tonight though…I’m thinking normal.  Whole going-for-normal thing happening in my head.  Never even heard of the Hellmouth.”

“But do you still believe in vampires?” Spike smirked.

“Nuh-uh.  Normality rules.”

“Right.  Normal night coming up,” Spike promised with a smile as three words stamped around his brain:  Not.  A.  Chance.

…

Normality scored high during the hours before midnight.  The chosen venue was new to Xander but old to the women, and there was a solid, comfortable atmosphere that Xander immediately settled into.  There was dancing, more dancing, surprisingly good food, dancing, the plying of booze by a gorgeous blond bloke wearing, by special request, Seattle-fantasy garb, and hadn’t Xander revelled in his friends’ reactions when Spike had emerged from their room looking so arrogantly stunning.

Halfway through the evening Xander had found his way out onto the first floor terrace, taking the opportunity to catch his breath in the cool night air.  It wasn’t long before Dawn found him, sliding her hand into his as they pretended not to look for signs of danger mingling with club patrons in the courtyard below.

“Spike says you won’t be coming back to Sunnydale,” Dawn said, trying a little too hard to sound unaffected.

“Maybe,” Xander replied guiltily.  “Definitely,” he sighed.  “I can’t cope with this place any more, Dawnie, and Spike shouldn’t have to.”

“You need to talk about why?”

“No.  In letters ten feet high, no.”

“Okay.”  Dawn squeezed Xander’s hand in understated support.  “In which case…  No, first, I have to ask you.”

“Ask me?”

“I, um…”  Dawn turned in to Xander, catching his free hand and now squeezing both.  Smiling at him a little tearfully.  “Will you give me away?”

Xander’s entire innards screwed into an emotional knot.

“You want me…?”  Dawn nodded.  “But, I thought, if you asked anyone it would be…”

“Spike, I knew you’d think that.  No.  I want you.  You’ve always been there, way pre-Spike, and even if that’s not real it’s entirely real to me.  I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I…  Yes.  Yes!  Wait.  No.  No way.”

“No?”

“I hate that.  Giving you away.  I don’t want to give you away, I want to keep you.  I don’t mind sharing…”

“Xander!”

“You know I’m going to be there for you, wherever…”

“And that’s the other thing.  If it’s not here, I wondered if the wedding could be at yours?  You have that big garden and…”

Dawn’s words were smothered as Xander tugged her into a bear-hug.

“Anything you want,” Xander said gruffly into her hair, choked by the wealth of feelings this young woman could evoke.  “We’d already agreed to give you the day as our gift, so…  Pick what you want, don’t settle for a garden, have the day you want, I’ll come back here for you if that’s what it takes, you know that.”

Dawn leant back and looked hard at Xander, brow furrowed as she studied every inch of his face.  He waited curiously until her expression softened and one hand slipped behind his head, bringing him down to her.  Xander hesitated for the moment prior to understanding, then allowed Dawn to proceed.  She appreciatively kissed his mouth, one brief, sweet kiss that said goodbye to her youthful crush, and then she was snuggling platonically up to him again, exploiting the warmth of the hug in the cold of the night.

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

“Moonlit Caribbean beach?” she suggested with suspiciously little forethought.

“You got it,” Xander promised.

“And you and Spike can do the From Here To Eternity floorshow on the shore.”

“Wouldn’t that be a little distracting during the ceremony?”

Dawn started to giggle.

“Do you take this man?”

“Yes, yes, YES!” they chorused in a mimicry of passion before breaking into laughter.

Before long, predictably, Spike came looking for Xander, leading him back inside and onto the dance floor for a slow number, feeling happier now that his partner wasn’t out of sight but wanting to be hands-on for further reassurance.  They danced close, moving closer still, fitting together as perfectly clothed as they did naked, smiling wicked smiles at wicked words exchanged under the privacy of the blaring music.

Willow, Dawn and Buffy were watching, lounging on one of the sofas in the mezzanine area; they followed Spike’s movements as he left Xander and picked his way through the crowd to the DJ, obviously making a request and receiving a nod before returning to Xander as the music segued from one song to the next.  As the first notes connected with him, Xander’s brow momentarily creased, exposing a hint of underlying emotions, certainly a little pain in there.  Vulnerability in spades, which the women found quite moving as Xander seemed anything but vulnerable nowadays.  Spike approached, smiling softly, knowingly; he held open his jacket so Xander could slide his arms around the narrow waist and hug his partner, closing his eyes as Spike’s hands gave affectionate touches that became a tight embrace as Spike sang along and Xander listened quite intently:

“…I see your true colours shining through.
I see your true colours, and that’s why I love you.
So don't be afraid to let them show.
Your true colours, true colours are beautiful,
Like a rainbow…”

“How did that happen?” Buffy asked as she turned to Willow.

“What happen?”  Willow followed Buffy’s gaze back to where they’d both been looking.  “Xander and Spike?”

“It still seems incredible.   And…and…”  Buffy sighed, waved in the men’s direction as Spike stopped singing and they fell still in the midst of the swaying bodies.  Xander’s eyes sparkled as he thanked Spike, told him he loved him, all easily lip-read.  The expression on Spike’s face didn’t need commentary.  “They’re so damn lucky.”

“How much have you had to drink?” Willow enquired suspiciously.

“Spike…can sing,” Buffy counted one on her fingers.  “In tune.”  That was two.  “They don’t get cricks in their necks while doing the loving gazing into the eyes of.”

“Xander is so cute,” Dawn offered, and Buffy counted that off.

“His car…has a roof.  All the time.”  Next hand.  “Amazingly generous.”

“Which?”

“Both.  Does that count as one or two?”

“One,” said Willow.

“Two,” said Dawn.

“One-and-a-half,” Buffy reasoned.  Ha!  Who said she could never compromise?  “They’re very…”

“Hot.  Sexy.  Fuckable,” Dawn suggested lasciviously.

“Trustable,” Buffy corrected.  “Although…”  She took another look at their delectable friends and ran out of fingers.  “And I’m very happy for them,” she stated adamantly as her lip trembled.  “Even if my sister’s deserting me to get married.”

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked as he and Craig returned from their quest to the bar.

“We were just agreeing that we should have had sex with Xander when we had the chance,” Dawn smiled innocently.  “The three of us and Xander.  Together.  And then Spike would have joined in.”

Buffy looked a little surprised, not entirely recalling that part of the conversation, but she had had a teeny drop to drink.

“Not you,” she warned Angel.  “And you…” directed at Craig, “…only get to take the photos.  You’re almost a married man, for God’s sake!”

The song changed, the tempo picked up, and downstairs Xander resisted all of Spike’s attempts to woo him away to a suitably dark and private corner for less musically-centred pursuits.  Xander teased and made transparently worthless promises but inevitably got his way and they stayed to dance, Spike determined to make Xander regret the decision and doing his provocative best to raise that expression on Xander’s face and, possibly, a little more on the physical front.  It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before Xander was slumping forward into Spike’s arms; the vampire thought his partner was fooling around until he caught one gasped word: lights.  Scanning around in confusion, Spike quickly realised that the recently engaged strobe lighting had triggered Xander’s response, and he pulled Xander’s head onto his shoulder, face turned into Spike’s neck.  He looked up to the mezzanine in the hope of a little assistance but for the first time all night, their girls weren’t preoccupied with gawping at them but were laughing and fooling around with Angel and Craig.  Murmuring unheard words of encouragement, Spike carefully guided Xander away from the dance floor, finding his dark and private corner but now for entirely different reasons than those previously considered.

He tipped Xander back against the wall, keeping his hand over Xander’s eyes until the strobes were discontinued.  Xander clung to him, and Spike was aware that he and the wall were taking most of Xander’s weight.

“I need to get out of here,” Xander told him weakly.

“You’re all right, love, I’m here, I’ll look after you.  Just take a couple of minutes to catch your breath and we’ll leave.”

Xander nodded and Spike gave him gentle kisses, hiding his own worry as he comfortingly nuzzled and altered his hold so he was supporting Xander better.

“I don’t know what happened then,” Xander stated what Spike already knew.

“You ever reacted to strobes before?”

“No.  You don’t think…  Can you grow into epilepsy?”

“It’s not that, I promise you,” Spike assured him, trying not to show the tension that came from realising what Xander had said on the dance floor wasn’t ‘lights’.  But ‘lightning’.

“Maybe…maybe I have a virus or something,” Xander ventured doubtfully a few minutes later when he started to feel a little stronger.

“Maybe.  But you haven’t slept well here, soon as you’re home you’ll catch up and feel better.”

“Yeah.  That’s it, that’ll do it.”

“Go home, shall we, love?”

Xander turned his spaced out look on Spike and his voice took on a hopeful tone.

“Can we?”

“Don’t know if I’m developing homesickness in sympathy with you or if the weird’s getting to me as well, but I want to leave, and right now.”

“Please, let’s.”

“I’ll tell the others we’re going.”

“Try to get them to stay here, I don’t want any fuss.”

“Oh, sure, that’ll work.”

Reluctantly leaving Xander, Spike quickly told Angel an abridged version of what was happening and left him to pass on the message, knowing full well that the entire pack would be back at Willow’s house before he and Xander had a chance to make their getaway.

And that’s exactly how it happened, with Xander trying to explain the simple fact that he wanted to leave, while his friends explained, equally as simply, that they wanted him to stay as long as he’d promised he would.  Spike tried to keep out of it, knowing how unappreciated his contribution to the discussion would be, but he saw Xander getting wearier and weaker, and why the fuck couldn’t everyone see something wasn’t right?

“Consort,” he said sharply.  Xander went from fading out to abrupt alertness in a split second, head turning briskly in Spike’s direction.  “Go and pack, love,” Spike instructed.

Gratitude transformed Xander’s features and he immediately headed upstairs.

“You can’t…!” Buffy began, appalled that Xander appeared to have no choice in this.

“Yes, he can,” Angel interrupted, giving Buffy’s hand a consolatory squeeze and leaning down to whisper that he’d explain more later.

“There isn’t a problem,” Spike insisted calmly.  “We want to leave; we are leaving; soon we will have left.  Bloody simple if you ask me.”

“Is it you that’s stopping Xander coming back here?” Willow demanded.

Spike strolled to her, stopping before her and lowering his voice.

“Are you blind?”

That was enough to make Willow think outside the box, and within a minute she was nodding sagely and side-stepping the confrontation.

“Is Xander ill?” Dawn asked tremulously.  “Is that what this is about?  Because he seemed fine earlier.”

At the sight of Dawn’s stricken expression, Spike crossed and put an arm around her.

“Not ill, but he can’t cope with Sunnydale and all its associations.  We can’t cope.  There’s only so much putting on a brave face a man can do.”

“Hey, c’mon, sweetie,” Craig took over from Spike.  “Couple more terms, job’ll be done, and we’ll be moving, then the guys can come visit without feeling bad.  And you have an open invitation to go stay with them.”

Spike left Dawn to her fiancé’s persuasive words and rapidly exited the room, circumspectly avoiding both Angel’s suspicious scowl and Buffy’s unfocused concern.

…

Xander was sitting on the bed, head in his hands, and Spike hurried to him, falling to his knees at Xander’s feet and pulling him into a crushing hold.

“I keep upsetting them,” Xander said miserably.  “I don’t mean to, I just…”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“It can’t, not now.”  With Xander still leaning against him, Spike awkwardly wriggled out of his jacket and waistcoat, then yanked aside the collar of his shirt, manoeuvring Xander’s mouth to the old claim scar.  “Take some blood, that’ll brighten you up.”

“I want to sleep,” Xander murmured against the mark, causing shivers to zigzag over Spike’s entire body.

“Do as you’re told, this isn’t up for debate.”

“Spike…”

Spike pulled back and brought his wrist to his mouth, slicing open the flesh and quickly pressing it to Xander’s lips, feeling the human shudder as the first drops found their way down his throat.  That was all it took for Xander to perk up and suck greedily on the wound until it was taken from him; seeing Spike’s face, recognising the level of arousal and knowing how horny his lover was always made by this act, he urged Spike to stand and rapidly unzipped his flies, pushing the suit pants over Spike’s hips so they dropped and pooled at his feet.  Without delay, Xander took Spike’s erection into his mouth and tightened his lips around the rigid flesh, closing his eyes and concentrating on the familiarity, the texture and flavour, as he conscientiously worked every inch, humming in acknowledgement of Spike’s fingertips raking through his hair.

Then those same fingers were pushing Xander away, and Spike was stepping back and adjusting his clothes.

“We can’t start this,” he told Xander firmly.

“I was just going to…”

“Yes, blow job, smashing, but we never know when to stop, do we?  Carry on like this and in an hour we’ll both be fucked and passed out.”  He glared at Xander’s pleading expression.  “No!”

As Spike began to pack, Xander let out a frustrated groan and joined in, invigorated for now and begrudgingly accepting the sense of Spike’s actions if they wanted to leave Sunnydale as soon as possible.  Naturally that didn’t stop him grabbing his boyfriend for a quick kiss or grope every time he was within arm’s reach, but Spike concentrated on keeping moving, even if he was continually adjusting to the human semi-permanently attached to his face.

…

Xander left the room first, sent on ahead and steeling himself to brave the row of unhappy faces.  Spike was just following with their luggage when his cell phone let out a cheery trill, and for the first time Spike experienced what he’d witnessed so many times with Xander: he instinctively knew this was Patrick.  He also knew what Patrick was about to say.  He took the knowing for granted.

“Don’t worry,” he said without preamble as he flipped the phone open.  “Xander’s safe.  We’re on our way home.”

…

“That was—”  Xander came to a halt, not having the words for quite how angst-ridden the eventual goodbye had been.  “You’d think that not coming back here means not seeing them again.”

“It happened before, didn’t it?  You went off, barely kept in touch…”

“Oh, yeah, that old news,” Xander griped.   “I’m such a mean bastard, yadda, yadda, yadda.”  Spike sniggered and Xander gave him a cheerful smile.  “You’d think they’d be nicer to you.  You’re keeping-in-touch guy, you’re the one who bothers to pick up a phone.”

“You’re selectively stupid to an infinite degree, aren’t you, love?”

“It’s a gift.”  Xander stretched and slid down in the seat, hitting the button that opened the sun roof and gazing up into the night sky as it was revealed.  “You any better with the dark now?”  Spike visibly tensed and Xander wished he hadn’t asked.  “Sorry, I just haven’t been aware…”

“Leave it, eh?”

“Yeah,” Xander whispered apologetically before falling completely silent for the next seventy miles.

Spike glanced over occasionally; Xander was awake, studying the stars, moonlight illuminating his face and the light breeze fluttering wisps of hair that were black silk in the moonshine; Spike had a heartfelt, unachievable desire to take the picture and was about to tell Xander when a brighter light flashed above them and Xander scrambled up, out of his seatbelt, and was virtually climbing through the hole in the roof in pursuit of it.

“Oi, back here now!” Spike shouted as he grabbed Xander’s waistband and yanked him down into his seat, worried that the lightning might have the same effect as the strobe and cause Xander to pass out.

“Did you see that?” Xander asked excitedly.  “That was awesome.”

“Shut the roof.”

“No, there may be…”  Spike pressed the button and the panel slid into place.  “Hey, I…”

Xander’s protest was torn away by streaks of lightning crackling in the sky, flooding the area with brilliant light.  The repugnant odour of sulphur infiltrated the Merc as Xander opened his window, and Spike automatically put a hand out to keep Xander safe, but his partner merely leant on the sill with his head and shoulders poking out of the car, whooping excitedly as the storm built.  When he fell back into his seat it was to insist that Spike stopped the car to witness the spectacle.

“I want to get home,” Spike explained in a placating tone, determined not to even hint at his rising level of alarm in the middle of this uncannily localised storm.  “You watch, I’ll drive.”

“But I want to share this,” Xander said with a uncharacteristically harsh edge to his voice.  “Stop the car.”  Spike’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and his foot slightly increased the pressure on the accelerator.  “Pull the fuck over!” Xander demanded.  “You damn-well obey me, Childe.”

Alongside the shock of Xander pulling rank – something Spike would never have predicted, especially in such apparently mundane circumstances – Xander’s tone was as scary as anything Angelus had ever mustered; the demon refused to defy Sire, and Spike slowed the vehicle, pulling off the road into the first suitable area, struggling against Xander tugging the wheel to turn the car faster into an overgrown lane that seemed to lead nowhere.

Xander was outside in seconds, pushing through the long grass and brambles toward a small clutch of trees that had been repeatedly lit by flashes of lightning, and even at his fastest, Spike had to struggle to catch up with his human.

“Xander.  Xander!”

Spike lunged at Xander, catching his arm and pulling him to a halt.  Xander’s head swivelled and he turned a cold stare on the vampire.

“Go back to the car.”

“Come with me.”

“I did,” Xander said with a mean smile.  His voice was deep and coarse, barely recognisable.  “It burned within you and you stank of fear.”

Spike took a rapid step back, shaken by the reminder of Xander fucking him by the fire the previous night, mindlessly burying his fingers in Spike’s flesh up to the knuckles, searing his insides when he ejaculated.  Shocked by this distorted version of his lover but firmly reminding himself it was still Xander, Spike reasoned that if Xander could be taken home he would most likely be protected from this…influence.  Possession?  As Spike had told Angel, Xander was susceptible and here was the horrifying proof.

“You can have me again,” Spike said with a forced smile.  “Come back to the car, Xander, come and…”  He chose his words judiciously.  “…make love to me, make love to your Spike.”  Xander’s expression became one of contempt, and with a snort of derisory laughter he resumed walking.  “Xander, please.”

Spike’s words had no effect, and he chased after Xander, once again seizing his arm, prepared to knock him out and steal him away if that was what it took to escape this place.  With a rumbling growl that vibrated like thunder in the still air, Xander twisted, caught Spike by the throat, and casually tossed him aside as if he were weightless; the vampire spun through the darkness and landed heavily in the undergrowth, making head-contact with the rocky ground and lying, dazed, for several minutes.

Gradually his mind cleared and he struggled to his feet, weaving slightly as he turned a full circle, searching for Xander in the oppressive darkness.  A fork of lightning crackled through the air above him and he followed its progress until the trees on the close horizon exploded into flame; much as he had seen not twenty-four hours ago, his lover’s form was silhouetted against the fire, and he was moving toward it at a steady pace.

With utter dismay Spike started after Xander, shaking the dizziness from his painfully throbbing head; picking up speed when he reached a patch of flat field, gaining ground but fearing it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough, and Xander would be consumed by this unholy conflagration before he could prevent it.

A cry of anguish filled the air as Spike watched Xander reach into the fire and grasp a burning branch, and Spike knew there was no choice for him, he had to go in too, even knowing his body would burn far more easily than a living human body.  But what was the point of his survival without Xander?  If only one of them was due to survive this it wasn’t going to be him, he wasn’t prepared to carry on alone; if Xander died here, the vampire who adored him and cherished his existence was going to burn too.

The gap between them shrank to nothing, and Spike noticed his clothes starting to smoke with the heat of the tremendous blaze.  He hurtled to Xander’s side and, barely comprehending the nonsense that was the man not having been consumed, thrust his hand in to grab Xander’s, prising the clenched fingers away from the charcoaled wood and reversing frantically, bringing them away from the heat and throwing them onto the damp ground, rolling them and rapidly smothering the flames that licked around their arms and across their chests.

For a while there was nothing.

And then there was knowing.

Still here.

Still here.  Bloody fucking hell, still here.

Clutching Xander to him, Spike sat up and, stifling his fear, shuffled his partner around so he could see the damage.  Tears welled in his eyes as he studied his love, brushing aside the ashes of shirt and jacket; he checked out his own arm as the remains of material scattered to the ground.  The results were plain in the glaring light of the burning trees: unmarred flesh, live or undead.  Beneath the grime, not a mark on either one of them.  Choking back tearful, somewhat hysterical laughter, Spike shook Xander until he came groggily to.  Smiling as he looked into Spike’s face, Xander uttered one affectionate word…

“William.”

…before contentedly, harmlessly, passing out again.  A single tender kiss to the grubby face and Spike stood, cradling Xander in his arms, and carefully made his way back to the car.

Spike rummaged in the Merc’s trunk, going through their bags, finding a t-shirt for himself and a sweater for Xander to change into, which was done with speed and ease, Xander semi-conscious by now and pleasantly malleable.  Before climbing back into the driver’s seat the vampire looked up to the sky, venomous curses poised on the tip of his tongue; he bit them back, having no idea of what they were dealing with and not wishing to antagonise the forces that seemed to be pursuing Xander.

Behind the wheel again, driving faster than Xander liked, staring at the road yet unable to put a halt to the flickering glances that ran continuously over his arm.  It wasn’t right.  Spike was immeasurably grateful to be his usual perfect self, but…it wasn’t right.

Xander stirred, surfacing from his doze, reaching out to lay his hand in its usual place on Spike’s thigh.

“Hello, lovely,” Spike said, once again having to swallow hard at a lump in his throat.

“I believe in vampires,” Xander told him with a drowsy, loving smile.  “I believe in you.”

Spike rested his hand over the one on his thigh, winding their fingers together and gaining another smile before Xander settled down to peacefully sleep the journey away, leaving the vampire moved and proud and awkwardly trying to wipe his tear-streaked face on the sleeve of his t without letting go of either Xander’s hand or the steering wheel.

Something struck him as he rubbed his face against his arm: the smell.  The strong aroma that was wafting from his should-be-cooked-or-dust limb.  Not burnt flesh, burnt or un-burnt vampire, but…

Patrick.

The laughter began to bubble up inside, and Spike fought to keep it down, keep quiet and not disturb Xander, but it wouldn’t be suppressed.

Patrick.

One barely stifled guffaw followed another.  A further inhalation.

Patrick.

Spike started to laugh.  Hugely.  And he didn’t stop for miles.

Repossession 107       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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