When Xander got home from work the following Friday he found Spike in the living room finishing off a phone call, grinning at his lover with an expression toppling from excited into maniacal.

“What?” Xander mouthed.

Spike held up a hand as he listened for another few seconds before brushing off the caller with a quick…

“Right.”

…and hanging up, heading for Xander.  The passionate kiss and affectionate growl were quite a distraction, but eventually Xander managed to ask, for a second time:

“What?”

“That was Willow.  They’ve got a truly nasty beastie to deal with and they need our help.”

“Our help or your help?” Xander asked suspiciously as the Srumanteshtak made itself known in the form of a bloody mental flashback.

“Our help.  It’s a strength of numbers thing apparently, eight points of focus was the term she used, and this’ll give us a dependable eight and a couple of spares.”

“So is it a fight or a spell?”

“More of a spell.  But if I’m lucky I may find myself a nice spot of violence.”  He kissed Xander again before rubbing his face against his neck.  “I want to see you fight, love.  I’ve heard the rumours and I’ve seen you train, but I want to see you in action.”

“Yeah?” Xander murmured, thinking more of an entirely different brand of action as Spike nipped harmlessly at his skin.

“We’ll take the Jag.”

“The Merc.  The windows are better.”

“Jag.”

“Merc.”

“Jag.”

“Merc.”

“You’re tired, Xander, you can’t do that drive.”

“We’ll take the Merc,” Xander insisted.  Meeting Spike’s eyes to add with a soft smile, “You can drive.”

Xander chuckled at the amazement on Spike’s face, becoming alarmed as Spike fell into the position of submission at his feet, back to chuckling as he heard the giggles coming from the vampire.  With his foot he tipped Spike onto his back and watched as he sprawled and stretched.  The humour on his face turned to something more lascivious as he gazed up at Xander.

“Time for a quickie?”

Spike’s bare foot ran up Xander’s leg and rummaged in his groin.  Xander stroked from ankle to toes.

“When do we have to leave?”

“Soon.”

“Then I better get ready,” Xander sighed, backing up a couple of steps and letting Spike’s foot drop.

“It’s not like before, love.”

“What isn’t?”

Spike leant up and patted the floor beside him.  Xander sat.

“They’re gone.  They took the badness with them, and the memories can’t harm you, not anymore.”

“I know,” Xander agreed, sounding entirely unconvinced.

“You’ll see.  When we get there it’ll be about catching up with Red, and sizing up the Bit’s bloke.  Arguing with Buffy over who gets to skin him if he turns out to be iffy.  Angel will be there and you know how much you always look forward to seeing him,” Spike teased.  Xander smiled at that.  “It’ll be about facing some foul hell-spawn but that’s nothing new, and it’ll be a doddle after surviving your childhood, eh?”

“I guess.”

“I’ll be with you.”  He sat up to face Xander, taking a hand and kissing the fingers.  “And I’ll make it all better.  I’ll make it better for you, just for once.”

“No hands-off this time.  That was such a dumb idea.”

“You were still coming to terms with who you are now.  Prickly.”

“It was an insult and I’m—”

Xander caught himself before the apology escaped.  Spike had shown admirable, lust-inspiring strength over Xander’s chemically-induced transgression the previous weekend and, once satisfied that the occasional forays into Jake’s world of recreational drugs had been addressed and dealt with, had unequivocally dismissed it in the same breath as he talked about taking control, not being swept along.  He had certainly not eased up on his no apology decision; before this week, Xander hadn’t had any idea of how often he used the word sorry.  And now, showing Spike due – overdue – respect, he had to work his words around the no-go zone.

“Yes, Xander?  You’re what?” Spike asked knowingly.

“It was wrong.  I shouldn’t have said it and I regret it.  Even when I was saying it I wasn’t feeling it.  Hands off.  What was I thinking?”

“We both understand this one, love.  You can let it go.”

“I can’t be like you, Spike,” Xander announced with sudden exasperation.  “I need to say sorry when I’m sorry.  And I’m…”

“Uh-uh-uh.”

“Oh…fuck off,” he said without passion.

Spike tackled Xander and rolled them several times, bringing them to a halt when he was above and straddling his partner, sitting up and lovingly stroking his hands over the cotton-clad chest, feeling the cool material suffuse with heat from Xander’s body.

“Me in a white shirt,” Xander smiled.

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, “you in a white shirt.”

“Why?”

Spike shrugged.

“D’know.  Always gets me hard.  How you look.  The feel.”

“White for purity.  Purity you corrupt.”  Spike’s eyes smouldered at the thought.  “Better keep that for later.  When we have time to play.  Right now…we get to go save Sunnydale.”  Xander started to hum, beating out a rhythm on Spike’s thighs; Spike frowned as he tried to place the tune.  “The A Team,” Xander told him with a grin.  “We are their worthy successors: The Gay Team.  We…”

“Help the hapless.”

“That’ll do.”  Xander pulled Spike down for a kiss and rolled them again until he was on top.  “Thank you for not giving me any choice.”

“You have a choice.  You don’t have to go.”

“Yes, I do.  I do have to go.  And I get to see number one family.  Thank you.”

Spike nudged up with his hips.

“Want to say thank you properly?”

It was only moments before Xander was expressing the depth of his appreciation.

…

Not the welcome they’d expected.  Willow’s door was answered by a frazzled young man wielding a stake.  Spike let out a warning growl and the man’s arm twitched dangerously.  Xander took a step in front of his vampire and glared.

“I’m Xander, and this is Spike, my very, very, very, special friend.  A word of warning: if you don’t put that stake away right now you’re gonna be picking splinters out of your colon for the next month.”

“You’re…  You’re Xander?  And this is…  Jeez, I’m so sorry, come in, come in.”  The young man was tripping over himself to make way for them to enter.  “Things have been so weird here the past couple of weeks.”

“Who are you?” Spike asked.

“I’m Brent, I help out at the shop, kinda do stuff for Willow.”

“Let me guess: you’re doughnut-boy,” Xander suggested sympathetically.

“Yeah, I get the doughnuts, make the coffee, sweep up, and Willow’s training me and my sister in…”  He dropped his voice.  “…y’know.”

“I can imagine.”

“You’re Xander.  And you’re Spike.  This is…  So.  Cool.”

Brent scurried off to announce their arrival; Xander and Spike shared an expressive look.

“If he’s helping with this spell…”  Xander began.  Spike waited.  “If the new doughnut-boy is as reliable as the old doughnut-boy, I just need you to know I’ve left everything to you, it’s all in your name, insurance will buy the house outright if you want to keep living there…”

Spike laughed and gave Xander a last quick kiss before they walked though to join their friends.

It looked like a council of war.  It looked like old times.  Tired faces issued warm but weary greetings, and only Dawn had the energy to come to her guys and give them a proper welcome.  They were introduced to mousily pretty Lena, mousily pretty Brent’s twin sister, and to Dawn’s decidedly un-mousy boyfriend, Craig.  Then it was back to the problem at hand.

“Bad, huh?” Xander asked.

“Complicated,” Willow answered.  “We’ve been working on the translation for the spell all night.”

“Spike?” came from Angel.  “Will you try?”

Despite exuding a distinct lack of confidence, Spike sat down next to Willow, taking her notes and the scroll of ancient language they were battling their way through.  Xander took Spike’s glasses from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed them over, pleased when Spike slid them on without a moment’s self-consciousness.

“Sodding hell,” Spike muttered after a few minute’s perusal.  Angel agreed with a nod, regarding the bespectacled Spike with memory-laden affection.  “I think…”  Spike turned to Willow.  “I think you’ve got it arse-about-face here.  Just this one symbol, but that’s enough to…”

Xander almost exploded with pride as Spike went on to patiently pick through the text with Willow and Angel, the three of them making corrections and combining their knowledge to find what was missing of this obscure prose.

It was an insight, a glimpse at the life Spike had been living a couple of years previously: Xanderless and rooming with Willow, helping out willingly because the spirit to argue about it had been sucked out of him.  Xander wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself for what he’d done to that Spike, but this Spike glanced up and gave him the gentle smile that told him he was fine, everything was fine.  Xander returned the smile and the pride re-emerged as his vampire turned back to the scroll.

It looked like old times and soon felt the same way; Xander wandered into the kitchen, feeling like a spare wheel, rooting around to find snacks and drinks for the people doing the work.

“Xander.”

Xander jumped, turning to find Angel behind him.

“I swear you’ll kill me with that,” he said when his vocabulary expanded beyond expletives.

“Sorry.”

“Like hell you are.  Shouldn’t you be out there deciphering?”

“I’m all deciphered out.  We needed a fresh mind.”

“You needed Spike,” Xander let the smugness out.  “You all needed Spike.”  They smiled at one another, a pleasant, genuine smile.  “How you been?”

“Good.  You?”

“Life with Spike.  Fabulous or disastrous.”

“That’s…familiar.”

“You and Buffy?”

“Good.”

Xander glanced over to the door: it looked like they were on their own for a while.  His expression became serious.

“How dangerous is this?  What we’re here for.”

“Dangerous by degree.  If the spell is performed correctly without interruption there’ll be no problem.  A vortex will be produced and this creature will be sucked out of our dimension, end of story.”

“If the spell gets screwed up?”

“If the spell gets screwed up – in this case the vortex would fracture - we have to send the creature on its way in pieces.  That would mean the confrontation we want to avoid.”

“Nasty, scary, mean demon?”

“Nasty, scary, mean, but not a demon.  There isn’t a word that we know to describe what it is.”

“I’m not scared for me, well, not so much, but it’s a long time since Spike got involved in anything like this.”  Xander hesitated.  “I shouldn’t ask, I know, but if you two end up where I can’t go…?”  Their eyes met and Angel gave a shallow nod.  “Did I have to ask?”

“You didn’t have to ask,” Angel confirmed.

“I didn’t think so.”

There was a contented pause as Xander finished up the drinks.

“So, Grandpa, I hear he’s a bigger pain in the ass when he’s visiting than he is at home…”

…

The scroll finally deciphered, Spike left the table, rolling tense shoulders as he wandered the perimeter of the room.  Xander was scowling as he scrutinized the faded illustration of their target.

“It’s…it’s a bush.  We’re fighting a bush?”

“It’s bushy,” Willow conceded.  “But don’t let that fool you, it’s…”

“Also pretty barky.”

“Barky?”

“It’s limbs.  All…eight of them.  It’s a tree disguised as a bush.”

“Deceptively bushy,” Buffy agreed with a yawn as her head rose from the table.  “But very dangerous.  Bigger than it looks in the picture, incredibly strong, its sap can cause humans to…”

“Hey, wait, wait,” Xander protested.  He had their absolute attention.  “If it comes to facing up, we can’t let Spike and Angel go in against it.”

“They’ll be immune to the sap,” Willow started to explain.

“But not to a fucking great lump of tree branch through the chest.”

“If the spell works…”

“I want this clear before anything starts, Spike and Angel don’t do the hands-on.”

Spike came over and slid onto Xander’s lap, unconcerned by their audience as he buried his face in the dark hair.

“Might not happen, love, and if it does…”

“Spike, we haven’t been through everything we’ve been through for you to get dusted by a  shrub!”

“There’s no choice.”  Xander looked to Angel, prepared to argue but silenced by the grim expression.  “If it   isn’t sent into the vortex it will spore, new creatures will grow.  They’re drawn to populated areas and live off the inhabitants’ blood.  If their victims aren’t killed they’re left in a zombie state by the effects of the sap, and this will happen to hundreds of people every day.  During a growing cycle these things are voracious.”

“We have to stop this creature,” Buffy added.  “Whatever it takes.”

Xander looked to Buffy, saw that she was willing him to understand that she was offering up her own vampire as a sacrifice this time.  The thought of Buffy losing Angel was almost as painful as the thought of him losing Spike.  And, as much as the last vestiges of stubborn, prejudiced, head-up-his-ass Xander tried to protest, Xander liked Angel.  This Angel.  Grandpa.  Who was staring at Xander with undisguised curiosity, trying to believe that Xander Harris would want him kept out of danger along with Spike.

“C’mon, love.  It’ll be fun.”

“Fun?  Fun?”

“I’ll chop it up and you can whittle its bits into bedknobs.”

“This is so not funny.  Do you remember the splinters, Spike?”

“You’re so bloody melodramatic.  If – if – the spell fails we’ll hack the bugger to firewood and come away sound, don’t you worry.  You and me, Xan,” Spike finally cajoled, breathing the words into Xander’s ear.  “Undefeatable.  You and me together.”

“Fuck,” Xander muttered eloquently, pressing his face into Spike’s neck.  “Fuck.”

“I think maybe we all should get some sleep,” Dawn suggested, linking her fingers through Craig’s and drawing her dozy boyfriend to his feet.  “What time do you want us back?”

“Eleven at the latest,” said Willow.  “That will give us an hour to get to our places.”

The room gradually cleared; Xander and Spike moved to a sofa and made themselves comfortable, Brent and Lena whispered with Willow for a few minutes before disappearing up the stairs.  A smirk formed on Spike’s face as Willow said her goodnights and followed them.

“Bit of a coup for Red.”

“What is?”

“Twins.”

“Yeah, twins, so what?”  It sank in and Xander sat up in his seat.  “You mean…?  Willow and…?  And…?  How do you know that?”

“How come you don’t?  It was obvious.”

“It was?”  Spike gave him a pitying look.  “Okay, so I missed it.  But that’s great, she’s not alone.”

“Only as much as ever.”

“But you said…”

“The minute they get too close she’ll get rid of them.”

“Why?”

“Because there are no guarantees.”

Xander felt the familiar, seasoned sadness for his old friend before selfishly forcing his attention back to Spike.  It didn’t take much force.

“You need to sleep.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go up.”

Spike agreed with a nod but didn’t move.  He appeared deep in thought and Xander waited, stroking the back of a smooth, cool hand as Spike’s inner deliberations were resolved.  He finally looked at Xander with a weak smile.

“I was useful.  I helped.”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed, and his smile was beaming.  “I was so proud of you.  I mean, I always am, but this was new, big, shiny pride.  You’re amazing.”

Spike let out an unexpected laugh.

“I love it when you’re this full of bull.”

“No.  No bull.”

A tug brought Xander close enough for a quick kiss and a grope; the wandering hand was seized and made safe, and Xander caressed it, falling silent as he took his turn to think.

“What, love?”

Xander studied the vampire, reliving a thousand memories in mere seconds, recalling with pain and…

“Do you remember the splinters?”  Spike simply nodded, and Xander was back there for the briefest instant: splinters and unrealised agony and Spike – William – and the lack of communication because of the daddy of all splinters brutally wedged in his throat.  Guilt, pointless and undeserved, coursed through Xander, and he tightened his hold on Spike.  “It stills hurts.  However much you tell me to let it go, it still hurts.”

“You need time with William.  You need to talk it out.”

“We…”

“I wasn’t there, Xan.  I know about it all but I wasn’t there.”

Xander shook his head firmly, whether to dislodge the memories or the idea of having William back, Spike wasn’t sure.  But his human needed a distraction.  Nudging his way to Xander’s neck, Spike began a gentle suckle.  Marking.  Xander groaned and wriggled closer.

“Use your fangs, Spike.  Please.  Just a little.”  Spike withdrew and studied Xander’s flushed face.  “Please?”

“Don’t know if it makes you safer or more vulnerable.  Other vampires will be aware but they’ll know you’re not claimed.  Might make you irresistible.”

“I’m with two Masters, a witch and a tasty pair of doughnut-fetchers.  I’m with the slayer.  Not just a slayer, but the slayer.”  Mention of Buffy made Xander’s brow crease.  “Buffy looks tired.”

“Everyone looks tired.”

“But it’s Buffy I worry about.  Worry about something bad happening before Angel gets her out of here.”

“Not going to happen,” Spike insisted as he went back to sucking Xander’s neck.

“Promise?”

“Hmm.”

“What if—”

Prick of a fang and Xander was silenced, hard, concerned with nothing other than his lover; Spike scooped him up and headed for bed.

…

Xander couldn’t stay asleep.  He’d slept for most of the journey to Sunnydale and only needed an hour or two to recharge his batteries.  Add that to the buzz from Spike’s blood and he was raring to go.  He whiled away some time watching Spike, but the temptation to touch nagged until he was forced to get up and leave his partner in peace.

He’d heard a car stop out front a short time before, murmured voices, and sensed more than knew that it was Dawn and Craig.  He glanced into the kitchen; Dawn was there making coffee and pancakes, singing to herself.  A quick hello and he carried on to the living room, curious about the boyfriend and needing to satisfy himself that if this guy got into trouble later he would be worth risking slayer, witch, or either vampire to save.

Craig was at the table, poring over one of Willow’s volumes on vampire history.  Xander quietly approached and peered over his shoulder, finding him studying the demonic celebrity that was William the Bloody.

“Catching up on family history?” Xander asked coolly.

Craig jumped at the interruption.

“Oh, hey, Xander.”  He followed Xander’s gaze to the book.  “I didn’t believe Dawn when she told me about Spike’s past.”

“Really?”

“I know I’ve only just met him, but he seems too…”  Craig stopped and took time to think.  Definitely not like me, I’d be babbling like a maniac if I was summing up a vampire to his obsessed boyfriend.  “He’s obviously very intelligent, he’s thoughtful, gentle with you and his friends.  Incredibly sensitive to surrounding forces.”  Xander found it strange to hear a total stranger describing Spike as he thought only he saw him.  He was torn between shaking the guy’s hand and punching him out for his presumption.  “However hard I try, I can’t see much of…”  Craig tapped the book.

“Wait until later.  If it comes to a fight you’ll see another side of him.”  Xander bit his tongue before he could say more, amazed at himself for wanting to defend Spike’s past reputation for being a brutal, undiscerning killer.  “Just remember he won’t hurt any of us.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.  I’m more inclined to believe the best of a person until I’m proved wrong, rather than the opposite.”

“And you managed to live this long on a Hellmouth?”  Craig smiled and went back to the book.  Xander went back to automatically mistrusting anyone who said the right things.  “You check out Angel like this?”

“He’s the previous chapter.”

“And?”

Craig looked across to Xander, bemused.

“And what?”

“Did it add a certain piquancy to the ‘hurt Dawn and we’ll show you pain that you never knew existed’ lecture?”

“Buffy already had that covered.  She scares me far more than Angel does,” Craig admitted confidentially.

“Good.”

Xander noticed Willow coming down the stairs and left a perplexed Craig to his questionable reading, following his friend into her kitchen.  A near collision with coffee and pancake-laden Dawn was narrowly averted and, as she left to share an evening breakfast with her boyfriend, Xander shut the door behind her.  Willow glanced around as she took packs of bacon from the fridge, smirking to herself because she was fairly sure of what was coming next.

“Sleep well?” Xander asked too casually.

“I slept very well, thank you.  Eventually.  Unlike some people.  Some people who aren’t as quiet as they think they are.”

“Ah.  Sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Willow grinned, and Xander returned it.

“No, not at all.”

“I know you want to ask and you’re trying not to.  It just happened,” Willow explained simply.  “Like things happen.”

“But this time it happened…twice.”

“That’s right.”

“Which one do you like better?”

“I like them both.”

“You like…either, both of them enough?”

“Enough for what?”

Xander hesitated, not wanting to get into the argument Spike repeatedly had with Willow.

“I worry about you.  Being alone.”

“Nothing to worry about.  Doubly nothing right now.”

“But that’s what they are to you: doubly nothing.  Spike’s right about one thing: you start to care and they’ll be history.”  Willow gave a non-committal shrug.  “Do they know?  Just how expendable they are?”

“It’s not that they’re expendable, it’s that this isn’t a serious relationship.  I don’t need permanence, and I’m not afraid to be alone.”

“Is that right?  Alone not as scary as love, commitment, taking a chance?  I was twice as fucked up as you and I took a chance.”

“You were…” Willow started angrily.

“Hey, not trying to play my pain is bigger than your pain, because I can’t touch your pain,” Xander assured; Willow believed the compassion in his voice and made herself listen.  “But I was the idiot who made my own pain, and that’s hard to get around.  You…you never deserved to be…left.  No choice for you.  No choice for Tara.”

Xander saw Willow’s tremble, and it was second nature for him to go to her and drag her into a hug whether she wanted it or not.  For five seconds she didn’t.  For all ensuing seconds she did.

“Xander…  It’s the difference between…being alone and in pain.  And being alone and not in pain.”

“But you have to chance the hurt to get the love.  You should be loved.  I’m not here for you anymore and it breaks me up inside when I think of you alone.”

“That’s more like it,” Willow joked weakly.  “It’s all about Xander.”

“All about me.  So, for me, you think you could meet someone perfect, fall in love, have a wonderful relationship with them and be happy for a whole, long lifetime?”

“I doubt it.”

“Okay.  So long as we’ve cleared that up.”

Willow pulled back and looked at Xander with a watery smile, eyes dropping to the grazes on his neck.  Then she inhaled deeply, turned back to the stove, telling Xander…

“You smell of sex.”

…and letting him blush as he mentally pictured his lover rubbing come into his flesh, forbidding him to wash it away.

“Yeah, it’s, er…”

“The closest Spike will get to claiming you?”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed warily, hoping Willow wouldn’t ask for more details.

“It’ll drive Angel crazy: the scent of his childe on you.”

“That wasn’t the intention but, driving Angel crazy, has to be a bonus.”

“Depends on the kind of crazy you’re looking for.  Don’t be surprised if you get jumped by the wrong vampire tonight.”

“You’re…you’re kidding, right?”

“You know what these demons are like for keeping it in the family.  I’m only surprised Angel hasn’t already insisted on Sire’s rights.”

“But…but…but…  He’s not my sire, he’s not even Spike’s sire, not really, and does that mean if Drusilla showed up she’d…  And I’d…”  It was the shake of Willow’s shoulders that gave her away as she fought not to let the laughter escape.  Xander stared at the back of her head with possibly mock venom.  “Oh, funny.  Very funny.”

There was a beautifully timed tap on the door and Angel poked his head in.

“Willow, we’re here if you want to give us any last minute instructions.”

“Spike up?” Xander asked hopefully.

“Haven’t seen him.”

Willow put a mug and plate in Xander’s hands.

“For Spike.”

Xander watched nervously as Angel’s nostrils flared prior to the appearance of the wonky smile.

“Something smells good.  Think Spike would mind sharing?”

“No!  Yes!  That would be yes, no sharing.  I’m going…  I’ll just be…”  Xander squeezed past the vampire in the doorway.  “Back.  In a minute.  With Spike.  Definitely, exclusively, with Spike.”

Angel followed Xander’s babbling progress as he slid along a wall and scurried up the stairs.  He turned back to a giggling Willow with a frown, pondering the undeniable strangeness of his childe’s mate, wondering why Xander would be so troubled by the thought of Spike sharing a bacon sandwich.

…

Xander glanced at his watch: a few minutes to midnight.  Then he glanced through the trees at the distant figure of his partner, knowing they were both eager and twitchy to have this spell over and done with, neither of them entirely relaxed around magic after some nerve-wracking experiences in the past.  He could feel the thrum of power working it’s way through the chain of participants, not understanding how but easily able to recognise Willow’s elemental signature.

Another glance, only seconds to go.  Something was going to go wrong, Xander knew, and he wanted to stop this, wanted to get to Spike and take him safely away.  Midnight, and something was going to go wrong.  Crystals were gripped, words chanted, connections made.  Xander peered to where Spike was staring into the woodland clearing, and he wondered if Spike was waiting for something to go wrong, because it always happened to them.  Born under a bad sign.  Spike’s body language told Xander to re-focus his attention.

The shrub from hell shambled into the clearing, flailing against the magic and the pull of the gradually opening vortex.  Okay, this was where it all went wrong and Spike got sucked in too.  Or the shrub exploded and a branch impaled Spike.   Or the vortex leaked fire and Spike went up in flames.  Or…  Xander blinked as the shrub was efficiently sucked into a gaping orange spiral which immediately, tidily, swallowed itself up with a mild whump.

“Can we say anti-climax?” Dawn’s voice rang out in the subsequent silence, to be met by a ripple of relieved laughter and a…

“Too bloody right.”

…from Spike.

They all wandered into the clearing and looked around at the normality that remained.  Willow collected the crystals and congratulated them all, ignoring Spike’s muttered complaints about witches who were too good to be fun anymore.

“Here’s fun,” Angel said under his breath and, as a body, they turned to look at the approaching clutch of demons who’d been drawn to the magic.

Spike handed his axe to Xander and sauntered confidently toward the newcomers.  Angel joined him, prowling step for step, and it was possible to see when they fell into attack mode, bodies tightening, head’s lowering.  Buffy and Xander started to follow.

“Get back to Willow’s,” Buffy said over her shoulder to the remainder of the group, and the instruction was met without argument.

With a coordinated roar, Spike and Angel suddenly broke into a run, launching themselves at the foremost demons.

Xander felt the expected onset of panic at Spike’s involvement but doggedly brought it to a halt.  This was not the weak creature he’d rescued from an alley, this was not William needing protection, this was Spike in his element.  Strong, battling, vicious and already well into decimating his first unfortunate victim.

“Okay?” Buffy asked.

“He’s…”  Xander was unable to find the right word or take his eyes from the spectacle that was his oh-so horny boyfriend going through his oh-so horny paces.

“I’d say that’s a yes.  Shall we join them?”

Buffy drew a hefty sword from her belt as Xander swung the axe up.  They shared a determined grin.

“Let’s party.”

…

They took the long way back to Willow’s.  It was a fine night; the inhabitants of Sunnydale were going about their business unhampered by the draining of their blood by rampant bushes; the demons they’d slaughtered made it less likely anyone was being eaten in the radiant moonlight.

Spike and Angel led them, hyped as kids on a vat of sugar, falling over each other’s words as they relived old times and bloody encounters.  Buffy kept pace with Xander, noticing they were gradually falling back but not wanting to ask what the privacy was about.

“What’s with the way you keep looking at Spike,” Xander eventually asked.

“You want me to ignore him?  I can ignore him, I have years of practise.”

“I want you to tell me why you keep looking at him like you want to cry.”

“He sets off my allergies.”

“You don’t have allergies.”

“Vampire allergy?” Buffy tried hopefully.

“And that makes Angel?”

“Vamp in a plastic bubble?”

Xander smiled at the image but it didn’t last long.

“You’re going to have to tell me.”

“I think you’re just in overprotective boyfriend mode.  See, I can say boyfriend now.  Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend.  Be proud of me.”

“Is there something I should know?  Something Angel’s said, maybe?  Like the chip’s forever and we all know it’s gonna break Spike?”

“No,” Buffy protested.  Adding a quieter, fragile, “No,” seconds later.

“If it’s about Spike I have a right to know.”

Not entirely true but Buffy understood; they walked in thoughtful silence for a while until Buffy linked her arm through Xander’s.

“I saw Spike’s notebook.  With the sketches.  I was looking for the picture of Dawn and…”

She felt Xander’s muscles flex as his arm spasmodically gripped hers.

“It’s okay,” he insisted.

“No.  It’s not.  I saw the pictures of Riley.  I know what they meant.”

“It’s nothing to do with you.”

“How can you say that?” Buffy demanded loudly, only to remember vampire hearing and lower her voice once more.  “How can you say that, Xander?  It’s Riley.”

“What?  You want it to be about you?”

“I want it not to have happened.  I want Spike to be the obnoxious pain in the ass he always was, I don’t want him…broken.”

“You mean that?” Xander asked incredulously.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Just…  Because.”

“No because.  Want to hear something that will appal you?  Staying at yours showed me how much I like Spike.  Sometimes I like him a lot better than I like you.”

“Really?” Xander grinned.  “That’s great.”

“You’re bizarre.”

“Great because, family connections, you’re just about his step-grandmother.”

Buffy stopped walking for a moment, closed her eyes and counted to ten.  Then she took a deep breath, opened her eyes and looked at Xander, who was still wearing the self-satisfied expression that threatened to get his nose busted.

“That statement is all the revenge you will ever need,” she told him with deep sincerity.

“Which makes you my step-grandmother-in-law.”

“It’s easy to like Spike better than you, because I no longer like you at all.”

Xander sniggered.

“Oi!”  Spike’s voice echoed back to them.  “Keep up!  Bloody slackers.”

They began to walk; Buffy clung tightly to Xander’s arm.

“What now?”

“Riley Finn,” Buffy said firmly.

“Can’t you just bow to my superior avoidance skills and let it go?”

“Aren’t you angry?”

“I’m so angry that just the sound of his name turns me homicidal; if I came face-to-face with him I’d take him apart, I swear.  Say his name once more and blood will pour out of my ears as I die from my brain exploding and then Spike will have to kill you.  And with my dying breath I’ll tell him to make it hurt.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t, but you getting the message here?  You want us to stay friends you have to shut up about that bastard.  You want to talk about it and feel better ‘cause it’s out in the open?  Not going to happen.  You mention it to Spike and I promise you we’re history.  You have to let it rot your insides too, Buffy.  In this case…it’s what friendship is all about.”

Repossession 79       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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