The following afternoon Xander came home early to make the frames, waking Spike from the hex for a second day running so he could help.  He knew the vampire’s idea of help would be making coffee and fondling any accessible part of Xander’s body at the most inappropriate of moments but that was fine.  It was better than fine.

“There’s a company party later tonight.  You want to go?”

“No.”

“You don’t need to think about it?”

“No.”

“Hold this but watch for splinters.  You mind if I go?”

“No.”

“I don’t have to.”

“You want to?”

“Well, it’s a good time to catch up with people I don’t have time for during the rest of the year.”

“Go and have some fun.  No picking up the labourers, mind.”

“I promise to be virtuous and impeccably behaved.”

“Only until you get home, I hope.”

“Naturally.  Okay, put your hand here.”  Beat.  “Spike, I said here.”  Beat.  “Actually, it’s pretty good there.”

…

“I couldn’t believe the attitude of some of these people.  I guess I thought because my friends were cool about it, everyone was going to be, but…  No.  That’s isn’t true, I never really put any thought into it.  I assumed nothing would change.  Because I haven’t, I‘m the same guy I was this time last year.  Happier.  Genuinely happy.  Better to be around because I’m happy with you.  But nothing about my private life really affects them so why the fuck should they care?

“You know what really got to me?  People were talking about me as if I were invisible.  I heard women complaining about the waste – like I was ever going to look twice at any of them – and men calling me names I didn’t even recognise!  I was afraid to go to the john in case of what I found written on the walls and, yes, it did feel like it’d sunk to that level.

“This one guy: I’ve known him, worked with him regularly, since he joined the firm.  He didn’t want anything to do with me, didn’t even bother to make excuses, polite or otherwise, he just walked away from me.  I said hi, he walked off.

“It makes me wonder what else I’ve missed, what other people have thought about me being…  Gay.  I’m gay.  I’d be bi if I were playing the field but I’m not and there’s only ever going to be you so that makes me gay, right?  Saying it surprises me.  I don’t think of myself like that, I don’t put a label on myself.  I mean, if I have to have a label it’s not like it’s a bad one.  In a world full of murderers and paedophiles and terrorists it’s actually pretty cool, but these people would have been happier drinking with – with your average Hell god.

“It really hurt.  I know it was only a minority of the people there, a tiny minority, but it felt like everyone was pointing and sniggering and staring at me like I was a freak.  And you were so right not to come along.  I can just about cope when it’s me but if you’d been there and some piece of shit had made a comment I’d have broken their fucking neck for them.

“Rafe was late, well, you know he’s always late, and he comes in, puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug like he’s done for over two years, and suddenly people are looking.  Not just looking, but looking.  I wanted to get away from him because of his reputation – I’m ruining someone’s reputation by standing with them – and I start to move, and his fingers tighten up and he’s made up his mind I’m not going anywhere.  He carries on this one-sided discussion about our Preston Hill site, and I’m choked, filling up because one of my dearest friends – someone I love and am I even allowed to say that anymore? – one of my dearest friends is the same person he always was and he’s not treating me like some kind of social pariah.

“Fucking hell, Spike.  Fucking.  Hell.”

“Xander.  Xander…”

“Fucking hell.”

“Stop for a moment.  Catch your breath.  Stand still for one minute.”  Xander brought the frenetic pacing to a halt with some difficulty.  Spike cupped the human’s tense face in his hands, looking into eyes full of hurt, disappointment, shock.  “Am I worth it?”

“Fuck, yes!” Xander exclaimed fiercely, clutching Spike to him.  “You’re the best thing in my life.”

“Do all the people who count still love you?”

A succession of faces from Willow through to Patrick and back to Spike whizzed through Xander’s mind.  He took a deep, deep breath and slowly released it.

“Yeah.”  He sounded calmer already.

“As for the rest…  Worthless tossers.  Be angry, but don’t be hurt.”

“I can’t help it, I don’t know how to cope with this any more.”

“Any more?” Spike frowned.

“Nobody’s looked at me like I was town geek since I left Sunnydale.  I wanted people to respect me and I’ve lost that now.”

“Should you have lived some kind of pretence for them?  Just good friends?”

“That would have meant denying what you mean to me.  I was never going to insult you in that way.”

“Then you have the respect that counts.  Mine.  And your own.  Take it from someone who’s lost it: self-respect is a valuable quality to possess.”

Xander’s focus swung one-hundred-and-eighty degrees.  He released his body hold on the vampire then grabbed a hand, pulling him out of the living room and into the dining room where the framed portraits were propped against the wall.

“Look.”

“I have.  A couple of hundred times since you went out.”

“Look again.”  Spike did and shrugged.  “These will make Beth and Pat so happy.”

“Nice frames.”

“Want me to knock some sense into you?” Xander threatened unconvincingly.

“All foreplay to me, mate.”

Xander chuckled, moving behind Spike, sliding his arms around the narrow waist and leaning his chin on the vampire’s shoulder as he carried on admiring the portraits.

“I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.  How much I respect you and what you’re capable of.”  No words.  Spike just…took a breath.  “You think a lot of me, don’t you?”

“You’re everything to me,” Spike responded quietly.

“You respect me.”  Not a question, a statement.  Nod.  “So perhaps you can defer to me on this, rely on my judgement.  I know that you are worthy of my – and everyone else’s – respect.  That includes you, Spike.  The self-respect starts here.”

“Worthy,” Spike murmured, latching onto the one word that meant more than Xander would ever understand.

“After what you’ve been through…”

“Don’t say any more,” Spike insisted.

“What?  Ever?  People have been trying that for years but it’s an unstoppable flow.  How familiar does, ‘Shut your face, git’ sound?”

“I’m worthy?”

“Worthy.  Of my love, my life, my respect, pride, devotion, my desire, body, soul, every cent and stick of furniture.”  Spike listened carefully, trying to cling to and remember each example that Xander gave him of his worth.  “Just not the Merc.  I’m sorry, but no-one is worthy of that car.  Even I am merely its representative on Earth.”  The imagery broke through Spike’s tension; he turned his head and kissed Xander’s cheek.  “Spike…  How did you know about that gap in Pat’s beard?  Did Beth give you a picture?”

“Not of him.  Just a couple of her, and details of their coat of arms and tartan.”

“I’ve only seen him with a beard once, after they’d been on vacation to Scotland for a month.  I wouldn’t have remembered that gap until I saw it again, so how did you know?”

Spike shrugged, displacing Xander’s head for a second and leaning into him to encourage its return.

“You know it works both ways, love?  The pride and the rest?  I don’t always express myself well, or at all, but I do try and I wish I was better at it because you’re a fluffy little thing really and you need to hear…”  Xander’s gentle laughter stopped him momentarily.  “Proved my own point.”

“You’re better when you’re not trying so hard.  Or thinking about it.”

“Motor-mouthing.”

“Something like that.  You say wonderful things to me, and I know you’re proud of me because you’ve told me and you’ve shown me.  You love me and, what’s equally as important, you like me.  Me and my fluffy littleness obviously.”

“You feel better already, see?  Priorities.”

“I guess.”  Xander was feeling better and didn’t want to think about his evening.  Spike’s, however…  “Were you okay tonight?  Jumpy, non-jumpy?”

“I was absolutely fine.  Spoke to the Nibblet for a while.  Then I asked Red to knock up one of her potions for you.  Something to help you sleep while I’m away.  No nasty side-effects.”

“And she’s…umm…”  Xander began distractedly before leaping on what he wanted to be sure of.  “You’re not going back yet, are you?  You’re not leaving?”

“No.  Not for a while.  Unless…  I called Angel.  He wants to know about the chip.  I told him we hadn’t discussed it in detail.”

“You know what I think, what else is there to discuss?”

“How I feel about it?”

“You should have thought of that before you made it my decision.  Yes, that is selfish, and no, I’m not impressed with my attitude, but it’s too much of a risk.”  Spike said nothing.  “What does Angel think?  Does he think the risk is worth it?”

“No,” Spike sighed, accepting that he was beaten on both fronts: he wasn’t strong enough to defy lover or sire and acceptance was all that remained.

“Some other solution will be found.”

“Yeah, right.”  Xander drew breath to speak but Spike got in first.  “Coming for a wander?  Think I can cope with the garden if I have a minder with me.”

Silent for the most part they strolled the grounds arm in arm, Spike’s hand sharing Xander’s pocket, fingers entwined.

“It went the other way too,” Xander said suddenly.  “There were people I don’t usually work with and have barely even spoken to coming to talk to me as if they’d only just figured out I was human.  That was nice.”

“How was Patrick?  Didn’t he notice what was going on?”

“Sure, but he was cornered for most of the evening.  He’s as popular as I’m not.”

“Xander…”

“Let me sulk.  Let me blow it out of all proportion.  I have to get past feeling so fucked over and then I’ll be fine.  I think I’m entitled to sulk with this one.”

Back indoors: kitchen, blood, hot chocolate.

“You want the hex tonight?”

“Nope.  Your present’s being delivered tomorrow.  Hardly want to sleep through that, do I?”

“What is it?”

“You really want to know?”

“No. Yes.  No.  Will I like it?”

“I especially chose something you’d hate.”

“I didn’t…”

“Daft git.”

“I mean, is it something I want?”

“Umm…not in the least.  As far as I know.”

“Oh.  That’s different.  Then is it…?”

“I’m not doing twenty questions, Xander.”

“But what if…”

“And you’re not to go into the room next to the study.”

“Ah, no!  How am I supposed to…”

“Live with it.  Tou-fucking-ché.”

…

Very late, or very early, depending on perspective.  Spike wandered around the house, feeling safe, secure, well and truly shagged…  Pardon the gloating but my boy is so fucking good  …and enjoying the sense of liberation that accompanied a lack of fear and a wealth of love.

He was trying to remember what Xander had said earlier, what he was worthy of.  Respect.  Pride.  Love and life.  Body – he certainly couldn’t forget that.  Soul.  Furniture.  Furniture?  Spike shrugged.  The whole speech, every gesture, had been appreciated and believed.  Was that the key to tonight’s feeling of well-being?  Would it last?  And if it did would he be brave enough to give Xander the gift he really wanted?

There were dozens of moments in Spike’s head, memories from their sexual bouts when Xander had given him that want-you-in-me-can’t-have-you-so-damned-disappointed look for a fraction of a second before hiding it away like the wonderfully considerate lover he was.  Times when Spike had lain over his human’s body and Xander’s hips had risen reflexively, instinctively offering, pleading for, demanding what his eyes and voice had been forbidden to.

Surprised he wants it so badly.  Attitude screams top.  My glorious Alpha.  Spike smiled wryly and shook his head.  Master vampire?  Bloody pathetic.  He went to the dining room and settled in front of his drawing materials, sliding on his glasses and picking up the charcoal.  Xander…

…

“That’s…that’s…”

“Like it?”

“That’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.  I don’t recognise that as me, when do I look like that?”

“When you’re waiting for me to come because you want to watch.”

“Did it just get very warm in here?”

“You see why I oblige quite so enthusiastically?”

“Wow.  Is that really me?”

Spike chuckled at his pet’s disbelief.

“Really you.  I’d notice if someone else slipped in, so to speak.”

“Think we’ll need to hang this somewhere private.”

“Bedroom?”

“I want one of you.  Can you do that?”

“Try taking some photos, shall we?  See if I get something to work with?”

“You’re happy with that?  Don’t feel you have to.”

“We’ll see how it goes.  But I want to see the pictures before you do.”

“Okay.  But this is…  When I’m – and you’re…  Damn, I want to fuck you right now.”

“Go to work, last day and all that.  Just think of this – us – whenever you come face to face with one of last night’s morons, eh?”

“Yeah.  Last day.  Do I really look like that?”

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s kinda…sexy.  I don’t think of myself as sexy.”

“Oh, Xander, you have to be kidding.”

“I feel sexy, y’know, on the inside, when I’m with you.  I just never imagined…”

Spike pulled Xander close, one hand on the small of his back, the other threading into his hair.

“Oblivious,” he murmured before treating himself to the first of many kisses.

…

Xander was back staring in the rest room mirror, methodically checking himself out.  Trying to figure out what made him sexy in Spike’s eyes.  Maybe he could see a touch more of it today than usually.  No meetings so he was casually dressed, wearing Spike’s chenille v-neck because he wanted a tactile connection with his partner, and the new jeans that were gradually getting tighter because – due to Spike’s persistent ministrations - he was quickly regaining the weight he’d lost; they were certainly tighter than any of the others he wore.  He’d never worn clothes that showed him off quite like this, although he could admit his body looked good albeit a little too undernourished at present.  Well muscled – he’d kept working out – but now he wanted the weight back, wanted to feel…solid.  The bulk from the construction work way back in Sunnydale was long gone: that first year on his own he’d wasted away and he hated the thought of it happening again.  But now he was eating properly he’d soon put it back on.  Unless Spike preferred…  No.  Spike took him as he chose to be.  And look at that self-satisfied face in the mirror.

He turned a complete circle, trying to see as much of himself as possible.  I look okay, but sexy?  Spike says I have a great ass, but…  Does anyone think they’re sexy when they look in a mirror?  Apart from Spike, and he doesn’t even need a mirror.  He’d fuck himself in a second.  Running his hands over the chenille, Xander let himself be reminded of Spike and of making out in the back of the Merc, hearing his lover’s moans resound in the enclosed space.  The jeans got a little tighter.  Smiling to himself he ran his fingers over the new hickey he’d insisted on Spike giving him that morning, replacing the one that had disappeared with miraculous speed after yesterday’s mouthful of vampire blood.  Fully hard in seconds, Xander looked at his reflection, staring at the distortion in the now unbearably restrictive jeans.  Fine, get that, that’s sexy.  Jeez, how does he tolerate anything this tight and…  Xander adjusted himself.  Didn’t help.  …uncomfortable?

No good.  Xander retreated to a cubicle and locked the door.  Maybe on any other occasion he’d fall back on thinking about his lover and focusing on the moment he’d finally get him naked and impaled, but he wasn’t dressed for walking around permanently half-hard, particularly as he’d self-consciously noticed that he wasn’t the only person checking him out today.  Clothes loosened, Xander sighed contentedly, grinning as he recalled Spike’s words: ‘Anyone else would have settled down for a nice wank, but not my boy.  He thinks.’  Xander took himself in hand and conjured up a suitably horny image of his vampire.  Not today, baby.  Not today.

…

A little later Xander felt the familiar draw and strolled along to Patrick’s office.  The door was cracked open and Patrick was on the phone.  Xander couldn’t help but overhear.

“…I’ll pass on the invitations, but I think we’re all pretty busy over the holiday.  …  That’s very generous of you.  …  Of course I’ll mention it to Beth.  …  John, your invitation seems pretty specific on the ‘and wife’ front.  …  Yes, okay, but Alex has a boyfriend, not a girlfriend.  Is the invitation still extended?  …  I see.  Then I think you’ll find none of us are available.  Good afternoon.”

Patrick briskly disconnected the call, sighed, crossed to the window and stared out.  Xander joined him, turning and casually leaning back against the sill, arms and ankles crossed.

“John Durman?”

“You heard.”

“Don’t screw up any connections on my account.”

“We can’t make his Christmas party.  Big deal.”

Xander glanced over to the door as Jake wandered in, and knew Rafe wouldn’t be far behind.  He was aware of this happening time and time again, and smiled to himself as he wondered if Patrick ever had to call meetings of the four of them, or if they always just drifted together at the appropriate moment.  The introspective smile turned outward, and Jake returned it, leaning on the sill beside Xander and deliberately aping his stance, close enough to brush shoulders.  Last as ever, Rafe joined them, standing alongside Patrick and completing the Gang of Four.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t any help last night, Alex,” Patrick said as he turned in from the window.

Xander shrugged.

“That’s okay, I know you and Jake were pinned down.  Anyway, I guess I’m gonna have to get used to that attitude from some people.”

“Not here.”

“It’s time we looked at restructuring,” Jake offered coolly.  “It’ll mean losing a few people…”

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” Xander protested, looking to Rafe for support.

“You’re out-voted, Lexy,” Rafe told him grimly, obviously still angry about the previous evening.

“So, what?  I don’t get a say now?”

“You can say who you want out, if that’s any good to you.”

“Pat, you can’t sack people at Christmas, they have families, they have kids…”

“New Year makeover?” Jake directed the question at Patrick, deliberately cutting Xander off.

“Jay!”

Jake looked at Xander, looked hard.  He uncrossed his arms and slid one around Xander’s shoulders.

“We have family too.  Nobody is going to disrespect any one of us and stay under our roof.”

“But…”

“Would you have tolerated it?” Patrick asked quietly.  “Would you have seen any of us treated that way and done nothing?”  Xander fell silent.  “Exactly.”  He looked to Jake.  “New Year makeover.”

“How is it on site?” Rafe asked.

“Leave those guys out of this.  I lose any men, we’re going to start falling behind and I won’t have that.  I mean it.  I can put up with a few smartasses providing they get the work done.”

“I don’t like it,” Rafe grumbled.

“I won’t name names.  Are you going to sack the entire work force?”

“Alex…”

“No, Patrick.  The sites are my responsibility.  You take that away from me and I might as well go with one of the companies that have been making offers.”  Xander recognised Patrick’s not happy look and lightened up.   “C’mon, Pat, there are always loud-mouths trying to be funny, but you get that on site, you can’t avoid it.  At least they have the balls to say what they think to my face, which has to be better than what I got last night.  And there’s been nothing malicious, just an endless stream of painfully unfunny fag jokes.”

“That’s supposed to reassure me?”

Xander sighed deeply.

“Nothing’s going to reassure you.  You don’t think I can look after myself?”

“We shouldn’t even have to consider that,” Jake objected.

“Welcome to the real world, guys.”  Xander glanced around at the serious faces.  “How about we forget this for a couple of weeks?  I’m looking forward to the best holiday of my life, I don’t want this on my mind.”

A brief moment’s silence and the tension broke as Patrick smiled and moved away to crack open the champagne that had become a seasonal tradition.  Rafe ambled in pursuit and Jake turned to Xander.

“What have you got planned?”

“So far?  Just me and Spike, some intensive us time.”

“That’s good.”

“I thought so.  It’s been a heavy few months and we’re still licking our wounds.”

“How is he?”

“Oh, y’know: good days, bad days.  Neurotic, paranoid.”

“Hardly surprising, is it?  After what happened.  Pat told me the little he knew, I hope you don’t mind.”

“You’re lucky you don’t know…”  Xander’s voice trailed off as memories overwhelmed him; he succumbed to an involuntary shudder, grateful when Jake’s arm, still around his shoulders but forgotten, tightened.

“Do I get to see the pair of you over the holiday?” Jake very deliberately changed the subject, waiting for Xander to drag himself away from the unwanted thoughts.

“We’ll be at Pat’s one evening, haven’t decided which.”

“Let me know?”

“Yeah.  Spike’d like to see you again.  Why don’t you come round?  Just—”  Jake looked the question.  “I don’t want to offend anybody, but can you tell Josie to back off?”

“No longer an issue.”

“Off again?”

“Permanently.”

“I, er…  What do I say here?”

“About time I came to my senses?”

“I can say that?”

“Sure.”

“It’s about time you came to your senses.”

“Thanks, Lexy,” Jake grinned.  “You always know what to say.”

“You seem okay.”

“I am.  She was never right, we all knew that.  Not like Rafe finding Moira, you finding Spike.”

“Spike finding me.”

“You found him years ago, didn’t you?”

“Well, it’s…umm…”

“You’re both pretty cagey about the past.  You want me to stop asking?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“That just makes it all the more intriguing.  Maybe you should concoct a fictitious past that’s bland enough not to raise interest.”

“And that would be…?”

“How about…  His family moved to the States for his dad’s work, you met in high school, drifted apart, got back together…”

Xander picked up the thread and Jake’s casual tone.

“I walked out on him when he really needed me, didn’t see him for five years by which time he’d been abducted, tortured and left for dead.”  The arm around Xander squeezed again.  “Can’t do bland, can’t pretend.  I owe him too much for that.”

“But Spike seems happy.  Seeing the two of you together was an eye-opener.”

“In what way?”

“I was watching you both that evening we all came over – and, yes, I know I’m one nosey SOB – but you feel so much for each other, it was…magnetic.  I’ve never seen you happy like that.  And you and Spike are so comfortable together, it’s not like the first flush of romance, or mindless lust, what you have is secure and deep and…  Let’s just say I was glad for you and jealous at the same time.  I want to be sure of someone like that.  I don’t want a woman who continually flaunts her interest in other men and can’t stop—”  Substantial sigh.  “Can’t stop fantasising about my best friend’s boyfriend,” Jake finished ruefully.

“You mean…?”

“We’re in the middle of…y’know, and she stops me to ask if I can do an English accent.”

“She…?  Fucking hell, what a…  I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?  You’re the one with good taste.”

“Yeah, but…  You are so better off without her.”

Patrick and Rafe rejoined them and handed over glasses of champagne.  Xander and Jake stood, and the four toasted the MacDonald Partnership.

“I’ve an extra gift for you this Yule,” Patrick announced, excitement glimmering in his eyes.  Xander glanced at Rafe, who seemed as curious as him, and Jake, who smiled smugly, already in the know.  “In January I’m going to make you all full partners.  This really will be our company.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Rafe took Patrick’s hand and clasped it so hard his boss squeaked.

“Wow,” was all that Xander could initially manage.  But as Patrick liberated himself from Rafe, Xander clumsily thrust his glass aside and stepped forward, hugging Patrick, offering his thanks and promising that he would never let him – any of them – down.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“This is…”  Xander racked his brain, his feelings for the right word.  “Belonging.”  He was almost embarrassed by the extent of his need for these people, this family.

Patrick topped up their glasses as Xander retrieved his.  Once again they toasted the Partnership, smiles wider, understanding deeper.  Then a third toast, Xander’s toast: belonging.

Patrick watched as his office eventually emptied, each of his future partners needing to clear their desks before the break.  He picked up Xander’s glass and slid a fingertip over the rim where the young man’s lips had touched, experiencing a deep-centred tremor.  Vulnerability.  Yes, Alexander was the vulnerable one.  A frown marred the man’s handsome features and a glint of something other-worldly flickered in his eyes.  He moved to his desk and picked up the phone, rapidly punching in a number.

“Hello, my love.  …  I’m worried about Alex…”

…

Beth dropped her phone back in her purse and looked around for Spike.  He was staring hard in the jeweller’s window, not seeing a thing in front of him and trying not to take a reassuring glance in her direction every few seconds.  She quickly joined him and took his arm, feeling the tremor of relief at the contact.

“Everything okay?” he asked, attempting to sound casual.

“Just Patrick fussing, as usual.”

They began to walk, Spike having bought Xander the few extra gifts they were officially at the mall for, now with time to browse.

“You were talking about Xander.  On the phone.  I have acute hearing.”

“You certainly do,” Beth smiled.  The smile weakened.  “Alex doesn’t want Patrick to fire the men who were rude to him at the party, certainly won’t let him near the site personnel, and Patrick doesn’t want Alex to have to work with bigots who can’t respect him.  Jake and Rafe agree with Patrick, but Alex…”

“Takes stubborn into whole new realms, I know.”

“Has he always been as bad?”

“Yeah,” Spike laughed to himself.  “Cantankerous little sod.”

“You two have quite a history, don’t you?”

“You wouldn’t believe the history we have.  You’d never understand how we ended up together, because it’s mind-bendingly improbable.  There was a time we couldn’t stand the sight of one another.  Quite a long time, in fact.”

“Sounds like denial.”

“You think?  All I know is when I eventually fell for him I fell like a barrel of bricks.”

“How was he?”

“He was…better than I deserved.  Kinder.  I’d done things – bloody hell, to be honest – I’d done people I shouldn’t have, and…  I was lucky to be forgiven.”

“Were you trying to provoke a reaction from him?”

“I fu…slept with his ex five minutes after they’d broken up at the altar.  Provocative enough?”

“To hurt him?”

“No, I was…”  Being manipulated, some fucking madman’s puppet, voodooed to the bone in an attempt to defeat the undefeatable and I’m still so fucking mad about it because it hurt Xander.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!  “I was…  Gimme a minute, will you?”

Spike moved away from Beth, yanking the phone from his pocket and calling Xander’s cell.

“Spike, you’re psychic, I was just thinking about you.”

“Xander, I never said…”

Xander waited for a moment, concerned by the seriousness of the tone.

“Said what?”

The vampire took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about…  I’m sorry…”  Fuck!  Can’t.  “I needed to hear your voice.”

“Actually…” Xander began thoughtfully, “I don’t think you have to apologise for needing to hear my voice.  Or is this a new development?  Maybe you could send flowers instead because I think I could get used to that.”  Spike smiled at the lightness of Xander’s tone, making a mental note to buy him some flowers before he left the mall.  “Come on, Spike, out with it.  What’s the problem?”

“Is there…  Do you…  Ah, doesn’t matter, we’ll talk later.”

“Is there…?”

Pause for thought.

“Anything in our past that you haven’t been able to forgive me for?”

Second pause for thought.

“No.  I can honestly say there isn’t.  And if you’ve thought of something you think I should blame you for, or hate you for, I don’t want to know.  Whatever it is, you just bundle it up with all the other pre-us crap and let it go.  I’ve forgiven and forgotten, you do the same, okay?”

“Forgiven?”

“Forgiven, Spike.  For whatever it is, for everything, anything.  You got that?”

“I’ve got that.”

“Sure?  I don’t want you dwelling on stuff that makes you unhappy.”

“I’m sure.  Thank you, Xander,” Spike said softly, humbled by Xander’s unequivocal absolution.

“Where are you?”

“At the mall.”

“You’re out?  That’s great.  Buy me something nice.  Buy yourself something nicer.”

“I’m with Beth.”

“I figured.  Better get her the nicest something.”

“I will.”

“Do some serious spending.  There’s a stereotype to live up to, y’know?  Nouveau riche, spendthrift trash.”

“If you say so.”

“And it was one of the equations that always worked in the past: spare dollar plus extravagant gesture equals happy vampire.”

“I am happy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”  A knowing smile crossed the vampire’s face.  “What were you thinking about?”

“When?”

“You said you were just thinking about me.  Do you ever get any work done?”

“Nope, just sit and fantasise all day.  I was mentally working my way through a pleasant little sixty-nine when you called.”

“Xander…” Spike whined.

“You asked.  Don’t worry, I’ll give you a blow by blow account later.  Pun intended.”

“Xander…”

“Hey, look, don’t keep Beth hanging about.  Take care and I’ll see you soon.”

“Tell me.”

“I love you, Spike.”

“See you later.”

Spike turned and looked for Beth, feeling a sickening jolt of alarm when she wasn’t immediately visible, attempting to force the panic beneath the surface as she appeared from a shop doorway and headed for him.  Beth easily read his expression and took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah.  Cheers,” Spike dropped his head, smarting with embarrassment.

“I’ll have none of that.”  Beth said firmly, placing a finger under his chin and tilting his head up.  “My boys are survivors and they carry their heads high.”

“But I’m not…”

Spike met her eyes and felt the fire in them course through him.  He took a sharp breath, feeling every part a vampire as he sucked her strength into him.  Flexing his muscles he made the first conscious effort in months to stand tall, lifting himself out of body language that begged to be ignored and overlooked and not hurt.  For an instant he felt Big Bad, the Big Bad, settling over him and the arrogance of that persona flitted over his features.

“You were always my boy,” Beth whispered proudly.

With a shiver, Spike came out of…what?  Day dream?  He looked at the phone in his hand, guessed he’d just rung off and been caught up with the usual pervasive thoughts about Xander.  Beth was clutching the other hand and he wondered when she’d got there.

“What’s next?” she asked brightly.

“Something nice for Xander.”

They exchanged a knowing look and spoke together:

“Chocolate shop.”

…

Xander was barely in the front door before Spike was bounding down the corridor toward him and leaping – literally – into his arms.  Xander oofed, wavered, but kept his feet against all odds, laughing as the vampire smothered him with kisses.

“Good day, I’d guess.”

“Your present’s here and it’s better than I expected, and you’ll love it, providing, that is, you even like it.”

“It’s from you, of course I’ll love it.  But you did you keep the receipt, right?” Xander joked.

“And if I made some mess arranging the room you can fix that?”

“I can fix anything, I’m anything-fixing guy.  We talking chips in the paintwork or major structural repair here?”

“No clues.”

“That’s my Christmas present?  Three days of plastering?  Constructing a new door frame?”  Spike kissed him again to shut him up.  Many kisses later Xander leant back to take a good look at his partner.  “How were you when it was delivered?”

“Fine.”  Spike hesitated momentarily.  “But Beth was here by then and she…  Well.”

“That’s good.”

“I’m a coward.  Hiding behind a woman.”

“You were helped by someone you’ve learnt to trust.  The fact you can trust at all is miraculous.  Give yourself a break.”

Spike treated Xander to a highly sceptical look for all of ten seconds before grinning and squashing the human in a massive hug.

“Beth loved the pictures.”

“I knew she would.  You’re so clever.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“And your blind faith know no bounds?”

“Uh-uh.”

More kisses.

“You know what makes today perfect, Xander?”

“What’s that?”

Clothes began magically disappearing.

“Belgian chocolate body paint.”

Repossession 41       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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