Xander took one last look at the computer monitor, clicked it off with a satisfied groan, and sank back into his chair.  The prospect of a full partnership had been exhilarating, but the reality was far more wearing: he’d had no idea about the extra responsibility and pressure.  He’d been working solidly since the New Year, and the last month had been a killer: evenings, week-ends, no time to himself, no time for Spike, and he hated being tired all of the time.  He glanced at the desk diary, where the last two weeks of March had been pencilled out.  Two weeks that began the moment he walked out of the building.

The atmosphere had been strained when the ‘restructuring’ began at the Partnership; Xander felt bad about people losing their jobs because of him, and he felt that everyone in the company knew the reason for the dismissals, becoming unnervingly polite around him.  Or maybe that was his imagination.  Maybe.  It was fair to say that Xander had been extremely tense.  By his own admission, an extremely tense Xander was not a joy to live with, but Spike had been unfazed by Xander’s stress levels shooting through the roof and was as supportive as a semi-neurotic vampire could possibly be.

Xander still didn’t know what had happened to Spike over Christmas – in all honesty he wasn’t sure that Spike himself knew – but the vampire seemed a little more stable, a little more confident, and experienced bouts of what seemed to be absolute calm, which Xander found both incredibly reassuring and positively suspenseful.

Spike had visited Angel twice so far this year; Xander had accepted his absence and tried his best to hide the perpetual jealousy and insecurity, despite the fact that Spike spent almost as much time in LA as he did at home.  But the hex hadn’t been used, hadn’t even been mentioned, since Spike returned from the first visit and that had to be a positive step forward regardless of who or what was responsible.

And now Xander was going home to reap the post-Christmas, post LA rewards of his almost chilled-out and sexy as…as…sexy as something incredibly sexy that he’d be able to think of when he wasn’t sleep-deprived and zoned out and…where the hell had he been going with this?  Okay, he revised, after spending two days catching up on his sleep and finally re-emerging in the land of the living, he’d be making the very most of his gorgeous, almost chilled-out, extraordinarily sexy vampire.  He rose and collected his coat from the closet, sliding into it and grabbing his briefcase, leaving his office and closing the door with a sense of extreme satisfaction.  Two weeks of nothing but Spike.  This is going to be perfect.

…

Half-a-dozen steps inside his front door and Xander was tripping over Spike’s holdall.  Realising the implications, Xander just stood and stared at it, heart sinking to his boots.

“Hello, stranger,” Spike greeted him as he came down the stairs.  “Home by ten; company gone bust or what?”

“You’re going away,” Xander said flatly.  Spike ignored the comment and slid his arms around Xander’s waist, holding him loosely as he attempted to land a kiss on his human’s evasive mouth.  “I can’t believe you’re going away.”

“Xander…” Spike growled playfully, trying for another kiss before taking seriously just how unhappy Xander was.  He relaxed his grip and allowed Xander to step out of his embrace.  “Talk to me, love.”

“I don’t want you to go.”  Xander dropped his briefcase and threw his coat over the staircase’s newel post, turning back and staring uncompromisingly at Spike.  “Pretty simple.”

Spike coolly returned the stare, thoroughly unimpressed by Xander’s attitude.

“I didn’t think you’d mind.  It’s not like you’ll miss me, Xander, you’re hardly ever here anyway.”

“Of course I’ll miss you.”

“What’ll you miss?” Spike asked casually.  “The face you’re too distracted to look at?  The voice you’re too preoccupied to listen to?  The body you’re too exhausted to fuck?”

“I’ve been working my ass off to make sure I could have the next two weeks with you.”

“The next two weeks?”

“Yeah.  I’m clear, no work.  I wanted us to have some time together.”

“Then you should have warned me.”

“Warned you?  Warned you?  You have to be warned that I want to spend some time with you?”

“Told me,” Spike corrected.

“And why didn’t you warn me you were taking off with Deadboy again?”

Spike threw him a disappointed look.

“I did.  You obviously weren’t listening.”

Xander felt the deserved sting of the reprimand, took a deep breath, tried to loosen up his body language a little.  Met the defiant blue eyes.

“Please,” he said softly.  “Stay.  Please.”

“I can’t.  There’s this bloke that Angel’s got flying in from England.  It’s taken months to arrange, I can’t not go.”

“Do you want to stay?” Xander asked in the same quiet tone, letting his eyes trail over the vampire’s body as he gradually made his way to Spike.

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what?  Want you?”

“Don’t manipulate me.”

“I’m not…”

“Yes, you are.  It’s what you do.  With a look, a touch, the tone of your voice.  Don’t do it.”

“It’s not intentional.”

“Xander…  Mr Stupid of Stupidville stepped out.  It is intentional, you’re disturbingly good at it, and I want you to back off.  You can’t control me, I’m not your pet.  Not anymore.”

“You’ve never been my pet,” Xander insisted, shocked and aroused by the thought.  “I had to be responsible for you for a while but that didn’t make you my pet and it certainly doesn’t mean I want to control you.”  Spike said nothing, just watched warily.  Xander dropped his voice once more.  “Come on, sweetheart…”

“You’re doing it again,” Spike said anxiously, taking a step backward in sync with Xander’s step forward, taking an involuntary breath as Xander gave his body another long look.

“You don’t like it, but you’re getting hard.”

“So?  I’ve missed you and I’m horny, but I’ve still got to leave.”

Xander moved in on Spike, backing him up until he was trapped against the wall.

“I’ve neglected you and I’m sorry for that, but it wasn’t because I wanted to, you know that.  You do know that?”  Spike swallowed audibly, nodded.  Xander smiled seductively.  “Now, I don’t want to send you away horny, so how about if I…”

“No.  If you start on me you won’t stop and I won’t want you to and I’ll never get out of here.  I have to go.  This bloke might have the answer.  I have to go.”

“You don’t sound so convinced any more.”

“Would you?”  Spike groaned as Xander pressed against him, kissing his mouth and neck, sliding his hands over every reachable inch of the vampire’s body until they were where they ultimately needed to be; his fingers rubbed along the erection trapped in tight jeans, nails scratching over the taut material.  “God, Xander, it feels like it’s been forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Xander murmured as he nuzzled his mark, making the vampire whimper and grind into his hand.  “I’ll make it all better.  How about I get on my knees for you?  Right here, now.  Want to fuck my mouth?  You want that?  Then we’ll go to bed and I’ll fuck you until you scream.  Need you, Spike.  Need you so bad, I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Come with me,” Spike panted.

“Oh, yeah.”

“To LA.  Come to LA with me.”  Xander froze.  “Please.”  Xander wasn’t sure what the please was for – more attention or LA – but the surge of jealousy and resentment made both impossible.  He tried to back off but Spike grabbed his wrist, pulling the hand back to his groin.  “Xander, please.”

“Oh, sure,” Xander agreed frostily, arousal dying fast.  “Angel and I need to talk.  See if we can figure out which one of us is the other woman.”

This time Spike let Xander go, and the human paced away and back and away.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Xander spun back, breathing hard, face dark with anger.  Spike clamped down on the familiar chip, defenceless, strong human, defenceless, pain, defenceless that rattled through his mind.

“Do you enjoy this?  Is that fucking humungous ego of yours so desperate for a little more inflation?”

“Ego?  What ego?” Spike almost laughed; this was as ludicrous as it got.

“So why?  Just the power?  Knowing you can turn me into some kind of freaking lunatic?”

“Your choice, Xander.”

“What!”

He won’t hurt me, Xander’ll never hurt me, fucking hell, he’s so strong for a human, he could hurt me really badly if he wanted to…

“You choose not to trust me; it’s your problem.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“What would you prefer to believe?  That I’m using you for whatever I can get?  That I fuck Angel and we have a good laugh about it behind your back?  That—”  Spike stopped short when he saw an expression flit over Xander’s face; his fear dissolved.  “No, Xander.”  Raising his voice for the first time in this argument.  “Don’t you dare think any of that, don’t you bloody dare!  I’ve done nothing to make you doubt me.”  Spike’s protestation seemed to calm Xander marginally; he stopped pacing, went back to staring at Spike, only able to stop his hands shaking by clenching them firmly on his hips.  “I’m yours, Xander.”

Xander knew he was being paranoid and irrational, but he was too tired to be reasonable.  The crushing disappointment of Spike’s plans to leave wasn’t something he could just shrug off, and he was sorely tempted to use claimant’s rights to make the vampire stay.  But the resolve on Spike’s face, in his voice, told Xander that if he wanted to keep Spike, he had to let him go.

“Don’t you want me to get better?” Spike asked as he regained his composure, unable to read Xander’s expression and hoping this wasn’t yet another mistake.

“Of course I want you to get better.  I just wish you could get better here.”

“Me too, but we’ve proved I can’t.  You said to me once…  Something about time apart being worth it if it meant we’d have thousands of nights together in future.  You were right then, and if this works out it’ll be worth me going now, won’t it?”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Longer than two weeks?”

Beat.

“I expect so.”  Xander said nothing but his dour expression, filled with frustration and resentment, was quite eloquent.  “Xander, I don’t have a choice.  You wouldn’t agree to…”

“Don’t make this my fault.  I wouldn’t let you fry your brain so you’re ditching me now?”

“I’m not ditching you, I’m trying to get this fucking thing in my head dealt with so we can move on.”

“A week.  Get it done in a week.”

“I’m the one who’s going cap in hand, I can’t make the rules.”

“So, you could be gone weeks.  Months.”  All Spike could do was shrug.  “Well, that’s just great,” Xander ground out.  “Fucking great.  Why do I bother?”

Xander turned on his heel and began walking.

“Xander…”

“Fuck you,” muttered, viciously.

“I don’t want to leave us like this.”

Coming to a halt, Xander inhaled sharply, let the breath out slowly, trying to be calm.

“Just go.  You stay and we’ll really fight.  I think leaving us like this is the best you’ll get.”

Xander stayed put, listened to Spike pulling on the duster – always the duster for LA – wanting to scream and cry with the unfairness, wanting the energy to put up more of a struggle, wanting…  Spike.  Wanting Spike.  He felt a caress to his back, tender and conciliatory.  He roughly shrugged it off and listened some more: Spike crossing the hall, picking up the holdall, opening the front door.  Before Spike had a chance to leave Xander turned back and spoke, making no attempt to keep his feelings from his tone.

“Hey, I meant to tell you: I don’t want you and your twisted fuck of a sire making any more plans about my future.  I’ve thought about it and I don’t want to be turned.  I don’t give a flying fuck about souls and magic and all that shit, I never want to be turned.  If you ever do it you’d better hope there’s not enough of the real me left to make you and Grandpa pay for it, ‘cause you’ll get to watch me stake that cunt before I come for you.”  Xander paused to catch his breath: bitter and twisted took a lot of oxygen.  “In any case I’ll be leaving some letters behind, make sure Buffy knows what’s what.”

The planned response faded on Spike’s lips.  Not only was he stunned by the animosity of Xander’s attack, but also by the image it invoked.  When he spoke it was barely audible, voice weak with dismay.

“I’ll lose you.  Xander, I’ll lose you.”

“Live with it.  Ha!  Anybody else here see the irony in that?”

“Xander,” Spike said more forcefully, throwing down the holdall and pursuing Xander as he walked away.  “I will lose you.”

“You vampire, me mortal, it happens.  Maybe you’d be better off with your own kind.”  Xander came to a halt and spun around to face Spike, sarcastically feigning thought.  “Oh, wait a minute, almost forgot: that’s exactly where you’re headed right now.  I’ll just wait to see if you bother to come back, shall I?”

“I am coming back.”

“Don’t take too long, will you?  Fragile mortal here, might be dead before you make the effort.”

Xander stormed off in the direction of the music room; seconds later there was a mighty door slam to announce he’d arrived.  Spike stood staring after him, quietly fuming at Xander for a long list of transgressions, wishing his love for the human didn’t prevent him from using any one of the many cruel comebacks at his disposal, especially on this particular subject.  Refusing to succumb to the urge to chase after Xander and do whatever to put things right, Spike strolled along to the music room and tapped on the door.

“Xander?”

“Fuck off!”

“You really mean that?”

“Yes.  Fuck off.”

Spike leant against the door and sighed.

“I’m away now, love.  Just want to say bye.”  No response.  “Come and gimme a kiss, eh?”

“Fuck.  Off.”

“Give you a call when I get there, shall I?”

“Don’t call.  I mean it.  Don’t bother.  Just…fuck off.”

“Take care.  Be a sensible fragile mortal and try not to get yourself killed, eh?”

The ensuing silence was crueller than the spoken dismissal.  A sudden, extreme fury teemed through Spike as he recognised his weakness, his pathetic needs, his inability to control his human.  In his mind he saw what he needed, what Xander deserved, how he should be brought into line and taught some respect for a Master.  The thoughts were bloody.  The thoughts were erotic.  The thoughts were…dangerous.  Spike walked away fast, left the house at a run, frightened by how much of a threat his enraged demon would be to his lover if it gained precedence.

Xander sat at the piano, leaning on the closed lid, ears straining to hear the Jag’s departure.  The faint crunch of wheels on gravel and Spike was gone.  He was alone.  Alone.  The anger was melting away in the silence, giving way to an exhaustion so intense it made Xander feel physically sick.  Setting the security alarm, switching off lights as he went, Xander made his way to bed, stopping by the bathroom to take a large draught of Willow’s sleeping potion.  Even this level of fatigue couldn’t guarantee him a full night’s sleep without Spike by his side.

He stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and stared at the bed, their bed, their bed that he’d be alone in for at least the next couple of weeks.  On Xander’s pillow was a single red rose.  ‘Spike, king of schmaltz,’ he remembered, tearing up and feeling like…Mr Stupid of Stupidville.  Who really should have stepped out before he opened his dumb mouth tonight.  Sadness, longing, self-pity, and back to frustration and resentment.  Xander rushed over to the bed, snatching up the flower and hurling it at the nearest wall, hard enough for the crushed petals to leave a stain.  Out of his clothes and into the bed, soothingly cool without the electric blanket on, Xander stretched out and appropriated the centre of the mattress.  But the position declared a state of singledom, reminding him of five unbearable years when all he had of Spike were memories, dreams and an empty cigarette packet; he gradually shuffled back to his own side of the bed.

Reaching above his head, Xander ran a hand along the central horizontal bar of the headboard, stopping when he found the kink in the metal caused by Spike’s preternatural strength when the vampire forgot himself during one particularly robust session.  Xander caressed the flaw, feeling reassured: it wasn’t all a dream, Spike had been here, who else could have made the impression?  Fist still clutching the bar, Xander plummeted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

…

Xander slept all through the next day, and didn’t find out until he turned on the TV that he’d slept through the following day as well.  He made a mental note to accurately measure out the sleeping potion in future, watched the news, stared into the refrigerator for a long time before realising he wasn’t hungry – the no-Spike effect kicking in immediately – and didn’t let himself think about his situation until he got under a hot shower.

As the water pounded the last of the sleep lag into submission Xander considered his options.  Phone Spike, make up, spend two weeks on his own at home.  Phone Spike, make up, go to LA and share Spike with Angel.  Wait for Spike to phone and make a decision as and when.  Stay pissed and think single.

Dry, dressed well, Xander picked up the phone and dialled, smiled at the voice that answered.

“Hey, it’s me.  …  Want to meet me at Donny’s?  …  Long story.  No, short story.  Interrogate me at the bar, okay?”

Which is how, half-an-hour later, Xander came to be sitting in a booth with Jake at their favourite pre-Spike haunt.

“So, you want to tell me what happened to not getting out of bed until someone came by and fork-lifted you out?  Where’s Spike?”

“Breakdown in communications,” Xander sighed before giving Jake a brief and highly edited version of what had screwed up his precious time off.

“That’s tough.”

“It’s like a chapter out of the life I had before I moved here.  Everything I touched I seemed to fuck up.”

“That isn’t true.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, but what do you expect me to say?” Jake grinned.  “That you always struck me as an outright loser?”

“About right,” Xander said ruefully.

“No, Lexy,” Jake assured him seriously in a typical switchblade shift of emotion.  “Alex…?”

Xander smiled at the grave expression.

“I’m fine.  Better than.  After all, I’m a rising star.”

“You still out of the office this week?”

“I don’t see the point now.  Guess I’ll be coming in.”

“It could be good for you.  If the contract gets signed, Christien will be bringing in the first batch of blueprints for the Gregory Theatre, and he’s going to want to go over them with you.”

“Yeah, that’ll be…not as good as being in bed with the boyfriend for two weeks solid.”

“If you’re going to be a miserable drunk I’ll be forced to keep you sober.”

“Jay, my man, let’s get tanked, go somewhere cheap and nasty, pick up a couple of guys…”

“Umm…feel like I’m getting the short straw here.”

“Something wrong with that scenario?”

“At least one penis too many.”

Xander began to giggle, Jake soon followed.

“Okay…  Tanked, cheap, nasty, couple of girls?”

“Isn’t that one penis too few?”

The giggles gradually died.  Xander stared at his glass, turning it in his hands.

“Couldn’t.”

“I know.”

Pause.  The glass turned and turned.

“I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Then put it right.  I’ll get us some food, you give him a call.”

Jake left the booth and Xander unclipped the phone from his belt, thumbing the memory key, hesitating before hitting a number.  In all honesty, due to his exhaustion, followed by Willow’s potion, Xander couldn’t recall many details of his row with Spike.  But he remembered asking Spike to stay and Spike refusing.  He remembered telling him to fuck off, and Spike had done just that.  He made his choice.  It wasn’t me.  He made his choice and it wasn’t me.  Blinkered view maybe, but Xander hurt, and it was the kind of hurt that made every inch of him ache, from the heart out; it was a call he couldn’t make.

The smell of food made his stomach turn but he ate, letting Jake do the talking and not always doing the listening.  A short time later Patrick showed up, fetching a round of beers and joining them without comment.  Xander wondered if Jake had called him but quickly dismissed that, knew Jake hadn’t needed to.  He expected Rafe to show within the hour; Rafe didn’t let him down.

Repossession 47       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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