‘…chair is still a chair,
Even when there’s no-one sitting there…”

“Oh, fuck off.”  The snarl from under the covers brought a smile to Xander’s face.  Business as usual.

‘…But a chair is not a house,
And a house is not a home…’

“‘A chair is still a chair, even when there’s no-one sitting there.’  Well, what the bloody fuck is all that about?  Of course it’s a sodding chair.  Who wrote this crap?  Thomas Chippendale after a night on the grog?”

Xander clicked the radio off and threw back the covers to expose the whinging vampire slumped over his stomach.

“Finished complaining?”

“No.”

“Oh, yeah,” Xander murmured as he stretched.  “Business as usual.”

Xander prised Spike off him and sat up, heart already starting to race at the thought of the day ahead.  He’d underestimated how anxious he’d feel about going back to work, and it hadn’t been until the previous evening that the nerves had started to kick in with a vengeance: right now he felt positively nauseous.

“You don’t have to go.”

“I do.  I have to go.”

Teasing fingers trailed down his back, raising goose-bumps.

“Stay here with me.  Another day.  One more day.”

“I can’t.  Because tomorrow it will be harder to get up and easier to stay in bed with you.  And Wednesday it will be even harder and easier.  By this time next week, I won’t be bothering to set the alarm.”

“So?  You feel safe here with me.”

“That’s the reason I have to go, isn’t it?  I have to prove that I can, that I don’t need to stay here and feel safe.  It’s hard: the idea that people I know, people I’ve worked with, could have hurt me, but if that is true there’s no way they’re still around.  I mean, would you risk sticking around to gloat?”  Beat.  “Okay, asking the wrong person.  They don’t know what I’m going to remember, they wouldn’t stick around and take a chance of jogging my memory.”

“No.  They wouldn’t,” Spike agreed, lying convincingly as Xander rambled on in his own sweet way, completely overlooking how exceedingly stupid humans could be.

“Besides, I won’t let this beat me.  I refuse to be frightened.  Or at least I refuse to show anyone that I’m thinking twice about any of this.”

Sitting up, Spike pressed his mouth to the skin between Xander’s shoulder-blades in an extended kiss.

“I admire you, Xander.”

“Yeah?”

“In language that you will appreciate: you are truly…the wind beneath my wings.”  Xander let out a snort of amusement and leant back against Spike.  “Love you.”

“I can’t wait for today to be over.  Just want to be here with you.”

“So why don’t you…”

“No.  I’m going.”

Spike watched Xander rise and cross to the bathroom, admiring a body that radiated its return to complete health: strong and beautiful, a good weight, muscles toned once more, rapidly bullied back into shape by their owner once the doctor gave him the okay.  Spike listened to the shower start and thought about joining Xander, but suspected that today he wouldn’t be wanted by his preoccupied lover, and he could only cope with rejection if…  No, actually, he couldn’t cope with rejection at all, he simply tried not to put himself in situations where there was the potential for rejection.  Like this.  So he’d make breakfast and pseudo- cheerfully kiss Xander goodbye and spend the whole day fretting about him.

Spike cocked an ear toward the bathroom; Xander was singing, that had to be a good sign, and he was singing some of that old crap he loved which was an even better sign.  Never going to make that note, Spike cringed in anticipation then laughed to himself as he was proved painfully right.

“Hey, baby!  Get in here!” was suddenly hollered through the bathroom door, and Spike jumped before letting the inner laughter emerge.  Not needing to be told twice, he quickly joined Xander, slithering against his soapy body and pinning him to the wall to kiss.  “You going to be okay today?” Xander enquired between kisses.  “Been a long time since you were left alone.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it.  Can you?”

Loving touches ran over Spike’s shoulders and chest as Xander sank to his knees.  Once there, he wrapped his arms around Spike, holding him close, resting his head against Spike’s body and closing his eyes before falling quite still.  Not what Spike had expected.  But he gently held Xander to him, tenderly stroking, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.  For a short time the human positively exuded peace and contentment, and Spike experienced the extraordinary sensation of being father to the child.

…

“And that was in no way traumatic,” Xander muttered to himself as he drove away from the house, having just endured the two of them trying to be positive and bright and breezy and not afraid in any shape or form.  It was an emotional knee-jerk of a reaction, Xander understood that, but it didn’t make leaving any easier, nor did all the rationalisation in the world lessen his growing discomfort at the thought of walking into the Partnership offices for the first time in five months.  He didn’t know that at that precise moment one perceptive vampire was on the phone to a certain Jake Buchanan, arranging an accidental meeting in the car park so that Xander wouldn’t be on his own when he took that walk.

Just outside the gates Xander paused to take a quick look at what the infatuated Bradley had left Spike in the night.

“Very touching,” he grinned to himself at the sight of a month-old wreath, all dead moss and denuded stalks.  Since their first meeting, the young vampire had discovered where they lived and been a regular visitor, rarely brave enough to utter a word, but gazing upon Spike with worshipful eyes whenever the opportunity occurred.  And Spike responded by completely ignoring the poor smitten creature.

Xander turned his attention back to the road, grin being replaced by a look of trepidation that he’d fought to keep from Spike.  He’s always telling me how brave I am.  Everyone tells me.  Well, they sure as hell wouldn’t want to be my stomach this morning.  Refusing to take one last comforting look at the house…   Few hours and I’ll be back.  Home and Spike, keep telling myself home and Spike and I’ll get through this.  …he drove, and surely the longing, repetitive glances in the rear-view mirror didn’t count?

…

At the first hint of twilight Spike made the call he’d been itching to for hours.

“Hello, missus, it’s me.”

“Spike, hello!” Cora greeted him enthusiastically.  “How are you?”

“I’m fine, more concerned about the other half.  How is he?”

Cora’s voice dropped to confidential.

“Well, he gives the impression of everything being absolutely the same as before.”

“Just the impression?”

“I think so.  I’ve known him long enough to know when he’s not happy and…  Well, he’s not happy.”

“What’s he up to now?”

“He’s in a Gang meeting.”

Spike chuckled, never having quite got used to Cora’s connotation-free use of that phrase.

“Right, I’m going to come over.  If the meeting breaks up before I’m there can you stall him?”

“Of course.”

…

So, half-an-hour later there was tap on Patrick’s office door and Spike slipped inside.  Patrick waved him in and smiled a welcome but didn’t even pause mid-sentence.  A glance around and there was Xander sitting rigidly on the sofa, surrounded by files, piles of paper, and flanked by Jake and Rafe who were unconsciously emanating an impenetrable air of protection.  Xander’s eyes met his and he felt the relief; in fact, he was aware of a drop in tension all around at his appearance.  Jake collected his own paperwork together and moved, gesturing Spike to his place, and Spike accepted the offer without a second thought, sitting close to Xander and taking his hand as surreptitiously as possible; Xander held on ferociously tight in an explicit statement of how demanding the day had been.

The meeting finally ground to a halt and Xander’s business partners congregated around the desk, tactfully turning their backs on the couple.

“Okay, love?”

“I guess.”  Xander leant over for a brief kiss.  “Missed you.”  Spike nodded his agreement before taking another kiss.  “How were you?”

“No problems.”

Beat.

“You’re lying.”

Beat.

“Few problems.  Minor.”  Xander drew breath to ask.  “Not here.  I’ll tell you later.”

At that moment Rafe caught Spike’s eye, calling him over with a nod and a quiet…

“Will.”

Spike gave Xander’s hand another squeeze and went to Rafe; Xander frowned, tried to figure out if he’d misheard.  Will?  Rafe called him Will?  He watched them: Rafe’s arm was draped around Spike’s shoulders and he’d moved them away for some privacy.  Spike was paying careful attention to whatever Rafe was saying, comfortable that close to a man he’d backed away from in fear a few months ago.  Completely at ease.  Will?  I had to hear that wrong.  Xander shook his head, stood and wandered over to Patrick and Jake.

“Seriously going there tonight?” Jake asked immediately.

Preston Hill.

“Yeah.  I’ll be fine.  No point in putting it off.”

“You want me…”

“No.”  Adamantly.  “I have to get back to normal, Jay.  And, frankly, I’m sick of the sight of you,” Xander joked.  “I only got better so fast to stop you visiting.”

“Okay,” Jake grinned.  “My crushed ego and I are leaving now, but we’ll sit by the phone all night just in case we’re needed.”

Xander caught Patrick’s expression and turned his attention in that direction as Jake went to collect his papers.

“You’re happy,” Xander stated rather obviously.

“You’re back,” Patrick responded in kind.  Xander took an automatic step toward the older man, but stopped himself there, rattling through a mental lecture about not needing hugs and fuss now he was better.  Acting my age sucks.  “What’s wrong?”

“Acting my age,” Xander informed him without hesitation.

Patrick gave a light laugh and came to him, pulled him into a hug.  Xander performed the familiar slump against the comforting form and sighed contentedly.

“You going to say it?” Patrick asked, his voice full of humour.

“No.  I don’t give a damn if I’m too old for this.”

“That’s good.”

“If you two are done with the touchy feely, any chance we’ll be getting out of here soon?” came Spike’s voice from behind Xander.

Another sigh and Xander parted company with Patrick, arranging his papers and scowling at the profusion of hastily written notes.

“You want to go on ahead?”

“No, I’ll wait for you.”

“’Kay.  Just gimme ten to try and make sense of this.”

Rafe called a bye, went, came back, hugged Xander and plastered a kiss on his forehead, then went again.  Smiling to himself, Xander wandered out and toward his office; Spike started to follow but Patrick called him to a halt before he could get out of the door.

“I wanted to check about tonight.”

“Yeah, I guessed.  Rafe told me, made sure I’d go with Xander.”

“He’s going to be there too.”  Spike nodded an agreement.  “Legitimately there’s no reason why Rafe shouldn’t be there but…”

“Xander’s going to go for that coincidence, eh?”

“Won’t question it for a moment,” Patrick said ruefully.

“He’s going to get well pissed off if we all keep fussing.”

“Then he’ll just have to get well pissed off.  Anyway, he set the precedent.”  Spike raised a questioning eyebrow. “He still fusses over you.  About you.  That means we have months of leeway before he can officially object.”

Spike laughed at the logic and turned to go.  Few steps and he stopped, shut the door, turned back.  There was something he wanted – needed – to try.

“Xander has it in his head that he’s to blame.  For what happened to me, to his parents.  He thinks he brought that beating on himself.”

A frown creased Patrick’s brow.  Spike felt the roll of energy and, having learnt from past mistakes, dropped all resistance to it, feeling a muted euphoria as he rode its crest.  Nice.  Must be getting the hang of it.

“You believe that he’s responsible?”

“No.”  Superbly timed pause for effect.  “I believe that you are.”

An upsurge in the energy level and Spike knew he was being either extremely brave or incredibly foolish.

“I see,” was the contained response, and if Patrick was angered or alarmed by the suggestion there was no way of knowing by his expression, which had smoothed out to a strangely captivating blank.

“And I’ve found myself wondering if I need to take Xander as far away from here as I possibly can.”

And here comes the old air-sucked-out-of-the-room feeling.  Wish the spare part would remember he doesn’t need to breathe.  William, love, we don’t need to breathe, don’t panic.

After a brief pause for consideration, Patrick started around the desk.  Spike mechanically backed up.

“Come to me.”  Softly, so softly, a man patently aware of vampire hearing.

“I don’t think so.”

“William.  Please.”

“I…”  Not William.  No.  “Xander’s waiting for me.”

The world apparently tilted and Spike found himself on a steep incline, unresistingly skidding toward the man.  Patrick met him, cupped his face tenderly, kissed his forehead, and Spike’s resistance dissolved.  Fog.  Mental fog.

“Pádraig…” emerged as a whispered acknowledgement.

Patrick rested his cheek against Spike’s, spoke so quietly the vampire hazily wondered if the words were actually inside his head.

“William.  I love you dearly; you are one of my own.  But you must not threaten me with the loss of Alexander.  I’m not a danger to you.”  He paused, kissed Spike’s cheek, spoke against his skin.  “Unless you try to take him from me.”

“I won’t do that, Pádraig,” Spike assured him, accent purely William.

“I hate having to say this.  But I cannot lose Alexander.  One day you’ll understand.  One day soon.”

“Why…”  Spike fought the influence, needed clear thought, needed an answer to one simple question.  “Why don’t you keep him safe?”

“It has to be this way.  I’m sorry I can’t protect either of you yet, not in the way I want to.  You will understand.”

“One day soon,” Spike murmured, pushing closer to the source of the power, experiencing an elusive but positively intoxicating blend of essences, and mindlessly pursuing it.  Patrick unhesitatingly granted Spike access, silently allowing the hands that roamed his body as Spike’s senses zeroed in.  The vampire nuzzled Patrick’s neck, unable to resist tasting the flesh; it was as if he’d stuck his tongue in a power socket.  Spike leapt away in shock, staggering to one knee and clutching his head as the chip unaccountably fired.  Then fingertips touched his forehead and he was pain-free, calm again.  Calm.

“Who did this to you, William?  Who destroyed what you are?”

“Soldiers,” Spike responded obediently.  “Doctors.”

“Dead soldiers?  Dead doctors?”  Nod.  “Angelus?”

“Xander asked him to kill them.”

Patrick smiled.

“We’re quite a family.”

“Can you help—”  Spike brought himself up sharply, knowing what the answer would be, knowing his excruciating piece of technology was with him for the long run.

Regret and pain and anger flitted over Patrick’s face; enforced limitations did not sit well with this creature.  Dismissing those feelings he gave Spike’s brow another affectionate stroke.

“Go to Xander, Spike.  He’s waiting.”

Spike was on his feet, heading back to the door, knowing he would lose the memory of what had occurred before he got along the corridor.

“Tell me we’ll be safe, Patrick,” he threw over his shoulder, sounding Spike, being Spike.

“One day,” came the soft reply.  “One day soon.  Unless…”

Laughter burst from the vampire as he entered Xander’s office: it was waist high in balloons, another hundred clung to the ceiling, and Xander sat at his desk in the midst.

“Jay,” he explained without looking up.  “Can you start pushing them out of the window?  It’s okay, they’re biodegradable.”

“Always the first consideration for the evil undead,” Spike grinned as he slid open one of the window panels and started batting the floating balloons out.  “Biodegradable.  How did I end up with a man who thinks biodegradable?”

“Gotta stop Jay doing this.  Any old excuse…”

“I wonder about him sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Xander responded distractedly.

“Him. You and him.  Him and you.”

A very surprised Xander looked up from his work.

“You’re kidding, right?”  Spike simply carried on disposing of the balloons.  “Spike?”

“If it hadn’t been for me…?”

“No.  I’m not even going there.  And I thought I was the jealous one.”  Spike shrugged.  “Before you we kind of…filled the gaps.  In each other’s lives.  I was alone all that time and Jay…  He’s had relationships but they don’t last, he…  It’s hard to explain, but it’s almost like he picks women that it will never work out with.  I may have made some weird choices but he can out-weird me any day of the week.”

“Like Josie.”

“Like Josie.  She makes us look straight and narrow.”

Spike slid the window panel home and turned to Xander.

“C’mere.”

“What?”

“Just c’mere.”

A moment’s bemusement and Xander came out from behind the desk; as he waded through the balloons Spike disappeared beneath them, followed seconds later by Xander as he was yanked to the floor.  He could and couldn’t see Spike, but he didn’t need to see him to know what he had in mind as efficient hands made short work of belt, button, zip, boxers.  Then a familiar wetness trailed along his hardening cock, nimble fingers rolling his balls as he moaned appreciatively and flung out an arm in what he guessed was Spike’s direction.  A couple more tries and Xander had a hold of Spike’s waistband, dragging him alongside and letting rip the usual complaints about button flies as a throaty laugh came from the direction of his own groin.

Not fast enough but pretty fast he was leaning up to push the tight jeans down Spike’s thighs and take his erection in hand, covering the glans completely with the foreskin before dabbing his tongue in the opening, teasing the tip of Spike’s cock, knowing it drove the vampire very nearly insane with pleasurable frustration.  Attention wavering as Spike took him deep into his throat, Xander felt the gentle probing of a fingertip between his cheeks, caressing the opening to his body.  Despite being hampered by semi-shed clothes, Xander attempted to spread his legs encouragingly, but the soft touches continued until he got the hint and used his lips to push back Spike’s foreskin and treat the head of his cock to some serious attention.  The finger disappeared, only to reappear alongside his shaft in Spike’s mouth as the vampire collected a little lubrication, then the pattern was reversed and the wet digit breached him.

Xander begged for more with the only means at his disposal: he slid his mouth over the deliciously hard flesh, bobbing, tonguing, applying some brutal suction, squeezing and pulling tight balls.  The resulting growl of satisfaction vibrated from Spike’s throat and through Xander’s cock; he reciprocated with his own moan and Spike pressed the finger home, stroking around Xander’s prostate but never quite touching.  Noises that resembled ‘please’, ‘please’, and ‘bastard’ emerged from around Spike’s cock, and he worked Xander a little harder before that final releasing touch.  Muffled yell from Xander and hot semen was pumping into Spike’s throat, inspiring his own orgasm as he unconsciously began to fuck Xander’s mouth.

They collapsed back onto the floor, lying in a post-orgasmic daze.  As it cleared Xander remembered.

“Rafe called you Will.”  No answer and he nudged Spike’s hip.  “Rafe called you Will.”

“Did he?”

“In Pat’s office, he called you over.”

“I thought you said he called me Will.”

Slap on a bare thigh.

“He called you to him by using the name Will,” Xander spelt out.

“Possibly,” Spike said evasively.  A second resounding slap.  “You’ll only get me horny doing that.”

“Why did he call you Will?”

“William probably told him to.”

“What!”  Xander struggled to pull his pants and boxers up and wriggled around to get face-to-face with Spike.  “When?  How?”

“When you were in hospital William was close to the surface.  There are times I’m…vague about, so…”

“Did you retreat?”

“No.  His influence was just stronger than usual.  I must’ve been exhausted or I’d remember more.”

“Rafe’s never said anything.”

“What could he say?  Caught your multi-personality boyfriend being multi-personality?  Let it go, Xander.”

“Ask William.”

“No.”

“Just ask him.”

“No.  Leave it alone.”

“I’m not angry, I just…”

“It hasn’t made any difference, has it?  Except, maybe, Rafe liking me better for it.”

Xander fell silent, trying to let it go and leave it alone.

“Will.  Not William but Will.”

“You called him that.”

“Yeah.”

“He liked that: you calling him Will.  He knew at that moment you were thinking of him and just him.”

Xander felt the usual missing-William pang.

“Is he okay?”

“Xander…  You can have him back, y’know.”

“No,” Xander replied instantly.  “All he ever wanted was his version of normality.  If you start dragging him out here…”

“We’re not back to normal though, are we?  We were just about integrated and you getting hurt broke us up again.”

“Does it damage you?  Being separate.  Hurt you?  Either of you?”

“Not damage, not hurt.  Just shouldn’t be me and him, that’s all.”

“Are you used to it now?  The two of you being in there?”

Spike thought about that and smiled.

“You think it’s like being stuck in an elevator with someone?”

“I don’t know what it’s like.  I can’t imagine never being alone in my own head.”

“I can be alone.  He’ll withdraw to a point that I don’t know he’s there, but I…”

Xander waited for Spike to finish but the thought of William not being there still seemed to disturb the vampire so the subject was dropped.  Spike adjusted his clothes and sprang to his feet, thrusting a hand back through the balloons to haul Xander up and into his embrace.  Spike took a look at Xander and chuckled, licking his palms before attempting to calm Xander’s static-crazed hair, presenting Xander with the opportunity to wind his arms around the vampire and grope his highly gropeable backside.

“I love you both, but I love you best.  You know that, don’t you?”  Xander nuzzled closer.  “I’m in love with you, Spike.  Crazy about you.”

Spike growled at the sensation of Xander’s teeth scraping over the skin of his neck.

“Can we go home?  I missed you today.”

“You mean you missed being able to fuck around with me whenever you wanted,” Xander grinned.

“Something like that,” Spike agreed before kissing Xander passionately, leaning in to his body and gradually manoeuvring him until he was flat on his back on the desk with an excited vampire climbing aboard and grinding against him.  “Want to fuck you on here one day,” Spike pulled out of the kiss to inform Xander.  Adding…  “Want you to fuck me on here.” …before diving in for more kisses.

A light tap forced them to take a look in the direction of the door.  Patrick stuck his head around, seeming unsurprised at the sight before him.

“G’night guys.  Any trouble later you give me a call straight away, okay?”  They both nodded.  “And you might want to watch out for that letter opener,” he added with a smile before ducking out.

Xander wriggled, found that the point jabbing into his thigh did indeed belong to his letter opener and relocated it.

“Just once I’d like to shock him,” Spike admitted.  “Can I try?”

“No, you can’t, you leave him alone.”

“Wouldn’t it have been fun if he’d come in a bit earlier and those balloons had somehow managed to…”

“Not listening, not listening, especially not thinking…”

Xander pushed Spike off of him and rearranged the papers scattered over the desk, singing loudly as he went as a precaution.  Spike smirked and joined in with the song, sliding open the window and batting balloons into the evening sky.

Repossession 64       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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