Spike sensed Xander’s approach; he backed off a few paces as Jake unexpectedly stepped forward, the young man beginning to rub and shake his hand as Xander emerged from the small group of dancers who had fallen still to observe the fracas.  Xander sighed heavily at the scene before him, glaring at Jake, who shrugged apologetically, before herding them toward the exit.

“I can’t leave you alone for a moment,” he grumbled as the sound thinned out.  “What the hell happened?”

“That tosser was going to do some damage,” Spike protested, “and he deserved…”

“Okay.  He deserved.  Now…”  They paused outside the club and Xander looked them over closely.  “You both in one piece?”  Spike and Jake obediently nodded.  Xander’s voice softened for: “Spike, you okay?”

“Fine.”

“There’s a bar we can…” Jake began.

“No, not tonight, going to take you home and…  What were you thinking?  He was twice the size of you!  It could be you on the floor in there.”  Jake shrugged again.  “Let’s go home.  I’ll fix up your hand.”

“You don’t need to,” Jake told him, perfectly truthfully.

“Come on, no argument, we’re going home, I’ll fix up your hand, arrange to have your brain examined…” and so Xander muttered as he took off toward where they’d parked the Merc.

As they followed, Spike saw Jake deliberately rap his knuckles against various surfaces to provide bruises for Xander to fuss over when they got back to the house.  Spike found himself wondering if Jake understood the significance of any of this, or if he simply assumed Spike didn’t want Xander to catch him in a scrap.  Another unanswered question; Spike was getting used to them.  And right now, he didn’t give a toss.

With a whoop of sheer glee he bounded up to Xander, caught him and swung him around before landing a quick kiss.

“Less of the kissing, okay?”

“Yes, Xander,” Spike agreed, just before the next kiss.

Jake ran the few steps to catch up and threw an arm around Xander’s shoulders.

“Don’t you try it either.”

“No, Lexy,” Jake laughed, leaning in to kiss him hard on the cheek.

“Can’t believe we’re going home before midnight,” Xander whinged.  “I thought we were having a good night.”

“Oh, yeah,” Spike grinned, jubilantly bouncing alongside Xander, running over parked cars and swinging around streetlights.  “Bloody good night.”

…

“How the fuck did that happen?” Xander growled at Spike when they were alone in the kitchen.

“Don’t be such a wimp, it was a couple of punches.”

“Jay could have been hurt, that guy was practically Olaf the freaking troll!  For Christ’s sake, Spike, you could have been hurt.”

“So?”

Xander stopped banging cupboard doors and stared at Spike.

“Humans.  Fucking evil humans, to quote you.”

Spike shrugged, turned to the counter and their drinks, only to be yanked around and into an embrace.  Xander was upset, he knew, but he couldn’t help the satisfaction that came with that knowledge.

“I want you to care this much,” he murmured.  “I want you to be so fucking pissed off that someone might have laid a finger on me that it makes you mad.”

“Wimp, sure.  But I want you safe, Spike.”  Xander pulled back to examine the relaxed face.  “No more clubbing, damn stupid idea.”

“Xander…”

“Humans.  I put you in the middle of…”

“Xander, I wanted to go with you, and I’ll go again.”

“No.”

“It was fun.  Almost got fucked on the dance floor,” Spike purred.

“I won’t risk it.”

“Maybe next time it’ll be the other way around.  You getting fucked, hmm?”  Spike’s hands slid to Xander’s buttocks and massaged.  “Want to risk that?”

“You…bastard,” Xander said weakly.

“We’ll get there.  You in the kilt, slicked up before we go, all I’ll have to do…”

Xander pushed away, out of Spike’s grip, glaring.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“You just…  Taunting me.  Taunting me with what I want when you…  Don’t, okay?”

“Not taunting, love, you’re on a promise.”

“Tonight?”

Spike hesitated, smile faltering.

“You want Jake to watch?” he attempted to joke his way around the subject.

“So.  Not tonight, not any night that I can see, so shut up about it.  You wanted me to back off about that, and I did.  Now you get to play by your own rules.”

A shallow nod as Spike reluctantly conceded Xander’s point.

“Right,” he said sullenly, returning to their drinks, “backed off.  Want a beer or something hot?”

Xander was instantly behind Spike, pressed tight, forcing him against the counter.

“You’re a very bad vampire,” Xander chided, voice low and sensual.  “And later…you get to be sorry.”

Spike took a shuddering breath, leaning back into his partner’s heat.

“Mean it?”

“Sure,” Xander agreed flippantly as he moved away and in the direction of the door.  “In fact I guarantee it’ll happen between…now and Christmas.”  Exiting with: “You’re on a promise, baby.”

Spike fumed for a moment, frustration and disappointment coursing through him.  Then his emotions swerved, and he let out a sharp laugh at the success of Xander’s tactics, adoring the man for being as crafty as a demon.

…

“Keep the noise down, huh?” Jake told Spike as they went their separate ways in the upstairs hallway.  “Some of us are feeling delicate,” and he grinned as he waved his taped hand at the vampire.

“There’ll be noise, mate, so tough.  If it gets you going you’ll have to try wanking with the other hand.”

Xander smirked at the conversation coming through the bedroom door, happy that everything seemed good, be it him and Spike, Spike and Jake, or Spike somehow being able to get accept the tedious normality of this life.  Brawls in clubs notwithstanding.

Xander took another look at the mirror’s position, shifted it a little to the right, then went back to where he’d started and knelt, leaning on the bed and staring at himself.  Another attempt at desensitisation, trying to prove to Spike that it was always Xander fucking him, even if they weren’t eye-to-eye.  Not that Xander minded eye-to-eye, but he very definitely begrudged the fact that Spike’s actions were still being restricted by his treatment at the hands of…

“Hello, lovely,” came smoothly from the doorway.  “No, don’t get up.”

Spike knelt behind Xander, meeting the warm brown gaze in the mirror, firm touch running up the human’s spine and down his sides, back and forth until Xander’s shirt was loosened and pushed up under his arms, bunched over his shoulders; Spike made the most of the accessible hot flesh, fingers curling and dragging, across chest and belly, making Xander squirm before his hips were encouraged back from the bed so his fly could be undone and his pants and boxers slowly eased down to his thighs.  Xander watched Spike’s fascination through the mirror, thoroughly aroused to be the focus of that avid attention as each familiar inch of skin was rediscovered.  Nails scraped over his thighs, buttocks, his balls were palmed and his erection was enfolded in a cool hand and languidly pumped.

Xander encouragingly pushed back as Spike dropped onto him, grinding his confined erection against Xander’s naked ass, denim inflaming sensitive skin that turned from cream to pink to red under the intense pressure.  Spike’s mouth fastened and Xander felt himself being repeatedly marked as blunt teeth scored and harsh suction caused scarlet bruises.

“Clothes,” Xander said hoarsely.

Spike jerked back, dazed for a moment, reaching for Xander’s until he caught on that his own were the problem; he undid his jeans and pushed them down to the level of Xander’s, cock springing free and bouncing as Spike ripped off his own shirt and hurled it aside with unnecessary force.

Pre-come dribbled over smooth skin as Spike slowly stroked his cock in the valley of Xander’s buttocks, groaning quietly to himself at the sight and sensation.  Fighting against the restraint of his pants, Xander opened his legs as far as possible, shaking as he did so, shaking with raw longing despite knowing it wasn’t going to happen, not what he wanted, but this…  It was a thrill, the reflection, magical in many senses, and Spike, Spike was magical in every sense.

“I need to come, Spike,” Xander moaned, head dropping onto his forearms.

“Soon,” Spike promised distractedly, expression one of serene fascination as he spread his hands over Xander’s lower back, stretching out his fingers to cover as much flesh as possible, thumbs pressing his cock into the cleft as his hips rocked.

“Spiiiiike…”

Spike looked up to meet Xander’s mirrored eyes as the human peered out from under his hair.

“You’re mine.”  Spike’s smug expression reflecting his satisfaction at that.

“I am yours,” Xander confirmed.  “Every part of me.  Especially the parts that need to come.”

“Mine,” Spike purred, leaning over Xander and scooping him back against his chest, bringing them both upright.

One hand teased Xander’s nipples, the other dropped to his cock, fingertips paddling in the liquid proof of Xander’s lust as the human groaned and tried to thrust into Spike’s hand, frustrated by Spike’s unwillingness to oblige and the infuriating but horny low snicker at his expense.

That stopped abruptly.

Xander’s eyes focused on the mirror, the image in the mirror.  Spike was staring at the reflected scar on Xander’s stomach, face now devoid of any emotions other than vividly displayed pain and regret.

“Oh, Xander,” he whispered miserably.  “Oh, love.”

“Don’t, Spike, please, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, I promise.”  Xander scrabbled to find a way to hold Spike, still trapped by his half-mast pants and the vampire’s position behind him.  “Move, Spike, let me…”

Spike somehow cleared Xander, flipped him onto the bed and stripped him in a confounding single move, then Spike was equally as naked and draped over his lover, lips pressed to the scar.

“Try to forget about it,” Xander urged, bringing Spike’s head up with a hand under his chin.

“How can I?”

“What then?  Is it too ugly to ignore?  Does it turn you off me?”

“Nothing could do that,” Spike insisted angrily.  “Nothing.”

And he covered Xander’s body with his own, kissing him passionately, grinding and writhing.  Xander tore his mouth away, determined to make his point.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?  I scarred you.  Look what I did to your body.”

“It makes everything real,” Xander spelt out, and Spike had to stop and think about that.  “I touch that scar, I see it, and everything’s real.”

“Because…because I haven’t marked you properly?”

“Maybe.  But if it doesn’t turn you off me I’m content that it’s there.”

Quiet now, deceptively composed, Spike slid back down Xander’s body and studied the damaged skin, touching it lightly before laying his mouth over it once again, exploring the texture with his tongue.

“Would you feel better if you were punished for it?” Xander softly enquired, an indefinable something in his voice making Spike’s entire body tighten in anticipation.

“D’know,” he responded with a nonchalance they both knew was entirely false.

In a swift move, Spike was thrown onto his back and Xander now loomed over him, gripping his arms by the biceps and pinning them to the mattress.

“Think your punishment should be something…reciprocal?”

“D’know.”

“Yes or no, Spike?”

Spike’s eyes sparkled with gold before he blinked back to blue.

“Yes,” a tense hiss.

“’Kay,” Xander smiled, lowering himself to whisper, “You’ve been a bad vampire and now you have to say sorry.”

“I am sorry, Xander,” and that was quite sincere.

“I know, I do know.  But you have to show me.”

“Whatever,” Spike gasped, face turning away, disguising lust and feigning reluctant submission.  “Whatever you want.”

“You’re so fucking hot like this, it’d be too easy to just take you.”

Spike’s head snapped back, a challenge in his eyes.

“You think?”

That was new; the combined effect of unpredictability and tone shot directly to Xander’s groin, and he dropped his hips, rubbing against Spike’s thigh.

“I know,” Xander met the challenge.  Spike squirmed, trying to find a better position, one that allowed him the kind of mild relief Xander was helping himself to.  “Nuh-uh,” Xander taunted sweetly, and Spike growled his displeasure against Xander’s low chuckle.  “Bad vampire.  Bad vampire has to pay.”

Xander straddled Spike, pausing for a show of thought before sitting back and magnanimously allowing the vampire’s slick organ to rub against his ass.

“Say sorry.  And say it without saying sorry, that was your stupid idea after all.”

“Fuck off, you deserved it.”

A burst of laughter came from Xander and Spike grinned up at him.

“That’s right, that sounds right,” Xander stated delightedly.

“Do your worst, you feeble git, see if I care.”

This made it easier, Xander conceded to himself as he gracefully folded onto Spike’s chest, shuffling backwards with less grace and feeling Spike’s erection drag over his perineum and balls as he went, tempted to stop and tease, but more determined to give Spike what he most definitely wanted despite the fooling around.

“Say sorry,” Xander murmured against a pronounced collarbone.

“Sod off.”

Xander nuzzled gently before turning his head slightly and biting down on the firm flesh.  Spike gave a sharp cry that was silenced by Xander’s hand slapping over his mouth.  Licking his lips and swallowing, Xander felt the first buzz from Spike’s blood.

“You will only speak to apologise, or to thank me for this, understand?”

A brisk nod and Xander’s hand slid down to Spike’s neck, fingers caressing the claimant’s scar.

“Yes, Xander, thank you for this,” Spike whispered hurriedly.

Another couple of bites, and Spike realised that Xander was recreating the X he’d bitten into the vampire’s skin during their most impassioned claiming.  As instructed, Spike apologised or thanked Xander with every bite, scared to glance down because he was so close to coming there was every chance that the sight of a bloody-mouthed Xander marking his body would remove his last scrap of self-control.  He clenched his eyes shut tight and concentrated on the sensations, concentrated on appreciating the depth of Xander’s love, knowing it was the only reason that the human would do this to him.

Long hot licks swiped over his chest and Spike knew the X was completed.  He peered up at his lover as Xander sat back to admire his work, wiping his face and sucking the collected blood from his hand.  Spike groaned yet again and that caught Xander’s attention.  Their eyes met.

“Very pretty.  I’m so good to you.”

Before Spike could respond Xander was tugging him up, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Spike astride his thighs to face the mirror.  One glance at the crimson X and Spike was shaking with the effort of restraint.  Xander recognised the immediacy and his hands flew to Spike’s cock, one pumping the shaft as the other cupped and teased the head, enjoying the sensation as strong spurts filled his palm with cool semen.

Spike’s eyes closed, his head leant back against Xander’s.

“I belong to you,” he groaned.

“You really do,” Xander agreed, hand squeezing between them, using the vampire’s fluids as a lubricant, preparing, lifting, penetrating Spike with indecent haste.

A noise of painful pleasure broke out of Spike as he was entered, and Xander clutched the quivering body to his chest.

“Be quiet.  If you disturb Jake I’ll tie you up and leave you in the studio all night.”

Now it was Xander’s turn to gasp as Spike’s inner muscles clenched around his cock, and Xander watched in the mirror as he took hold of Spike’s hips and moved them in slow circles, grinding Spike onto his cock, transfixed by the reflection as Spike’s erection was renewed, the thick member becoming rock-hard and clinging to Spike’s stomach.

“Thank you, Xander,” Spike murmured for the last time as he began to ride hard and then harder, pulling Xander’s hands to his cock before letting his own fingers explore the oozing trails across his chest.

Xander muffled his own cry of release by biting into Spike’s shoulder, forcing the unsuspecting vampire into his own orgasm, which was considerably louder.  They collapsed back and, holding Spike to him, Xander manoeuvred them further onto the bed, onto their sides, spooning behind his lover.

“I think we’re even,” Xander said into Spike’s hair.

“This won’t scar.”

“Good.”

“I want to keep it.”

“I’ll take a photo before it heals completely, how’s that?”

Spike nodded and squirmed backwards, trying to get impossibly closer.

“I love you, Xander.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.  I’m so glad you’re here.”

Xander’s breathing slowed; Spike’s stopped.

Peace engulfed them.  For five minutes.  Before a door along the hallway opened and soft footsteps padded past, moving in the direction of the stairs.  They stopped, paused, returned, and there was a tap on the door.

“Going to the kitchen for a drink, want anything?”

“We’re asleep,” Spike assured him.  “Fast asleep.”

“Yeah, right.”  More footsteps as the voice faded.  “God, I hope you guys are finished for the night.  And you could at least supply an inflatable sheep or something.”

…

Saturday afternoon, just up, Spike went looking for Xander.  The man was lounging outside on the bench making the most of the unseasonal warmth, soda in hand, chatting to Jake.  Spike sighed.  Xander looked gorgeous in the sunshine, skin glowing, hair gleaming, and even the fact he was wearing a baggy old work-out t and the horrendous lime green Bermuda shorts that Dawn had bought him couldn’t detract from his general lusciousness.  Being jealous was understandable, Spike accepted, and he couldn’t help wishing that he could share such a moment, wondering if the warlock who could give a vampire a reflection was powerful enough to give him an hour in the sunlight.  Not that an hour would be enough, but it would be sixty minutes more than he’d have under any other circumstances.  He’d talk to Max.

Between prolonged bouts of studying Xander he prepared and drank blood, aware that it was harder to control his face when he fed nowadays, which was not necessarily a bad thing.  Instinctive.  Demon being a demon, and the only human likely to witness it would welcome the change.  Change in every sense.

The ringing phone drew him away from blood, ruminations, and Xander.  Angel, giving him firm details of the demon he’d been looking out for during the latter part of the week.  Spike was grateful to have something to kill, but that wasn’t on his mind for long as Xander’s arms slid around his waist, pulling him close to a sun-hot chest as lips peppered kisses on the nape of his neck.  He abruptly ended the conversation with his grand- sire, then turned to face his partner, having his greeting swallowed by an enthusiastic kiss.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”  Kisses.  “Missed you.”

“You deserve someone who can walk in the sun,” Spike said sincerely.

“Bollocks,” Xander told him, equally as sincerely, knowing he’d get a smile for that, and he did.  More kisses.  Until Spike felt Jake’s presence and glanced to where he was leant in the doorway.  The vampire raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve decided to watch,” Jake said wistfully.  “It’s all the sex I’m going to get this weekend.”

“We’ll get the inflatable sheep.”

Switchblading into a grin, Jake waved the offer aside, went to get his stuff together and go home.

“We have to get that sheep,” Xander said.

“Internet,” Spike said with great authority.  “Get anything on the internet.”

“While you’re on there…”  Spike waited.  “Get me a piano.”  Spike nodded.  Kisses.  “Okay, what do you want to do this afternoon?”

“Want you to take some photos of me with the X.”

“Sure.”

“Then…I think I’ll paint you.”

“Don’t we have enough pictures of me?”

“I never mentioned a picture.  I’m going to paint you.”

“You’re going to…”

“Paint.  You.”

Xander took that in and nodded sagely.

“I’ll…umm…turn up the heat.”

“You certainly will.”

…

Xander woke, slowly, serenely, the best way.  The authentic Sunday way.  He treasured the moments of peace and calm in their turbulent life, and this was perfect.  Mid-morning, Spike’s arm thrown carelessly over him in a casual statement of possession.  Xander smiled, stroked the smooth flesh for a few minutes before setting aside the arm and turning to rise.

He froze at what he saw across the room.  Well, at first he froze, then he let out a shriek so girly he’d never have lived it down had Spike been conscious to hear.  As it was, Spike was woken by his lover shaking him hard enough to scramble his innards.  He attempted alert, but alert really wasn’t going to happen yet for a while.  So bleary it was.  Spike blearily paid attention to Xander’s fit, grabbing and stilling him.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

“There is a – a – horse in our bedroom.”

Okay, that caught Spike’s attention sufficiently for him to force open an eye.

“Oh.  Right.  That’s not a horse, it’s a dog.”

“It’s fucking huge!”

Spike snickered.

“Thanks, love, but let’s stick to the dog.”

“The dog…” Xander ground out through clenched teeth, “is fucking huge.  And what is it doing in here?  What is it doing, period?”

“Just showed up last night,” Spike explained, interest gradually transferring from the dog to the man, Xander’s body pressed against his having had a totally predictable result.  “You feel nice,” he murmured, winding their legs together and treating himself to a slow rub against Xander’s hip.  “Very nice.”

“No, you damn-well don’t,” Xander protested, wriggling away.  “You bring a horse disguised as a dog into my bedroom and want to put on a show for it?”

Xander scooted up the bed, holding the sheet to his chest with unlikely modesty.  Spike sighed and leant up on one elbow, mentally unravelling the night’s occurrences while Xander stared at the dog, and the dog stared at Xander.

“I was having a bit of a problem with this stroppy demon Angel had asked me to take care of.  Dog appeared out of nowhere, ran up and bit right through its tentacle…”

“Ouch,” Xander winced and crossed his legs.

“Tentacle, and distracted it long enough for me to kill it.  Then he started following me, and I told him if he’d fit in the back of the Jag he could come home with me.”

“Oh, you told him that, did you?  And what did he say?  I’m not getting in the back until I know you better?  You get in the back and I’ll drive?  Forget the Jag, you can ride me home?”

“He just…got in the back.  Bit of a squeeze, but…”

“Spike, you can’t expect to keep him.  He’s probably run off, got lost, people are missing him, kids are crying, Disney are buying the rights, and he’s so damn ugly he’s gotta be worth a fortune.”

“He’s not ugly,” Spike protested.  “He has character.”

“Are you listening to me?”

Spike fell flat, dishevelled, pouting and pretty, and Xander tried not to succumb to the lethal charms.

“I said he could stay and you’re making me out to be a liar.”

“I’m still asleep, that’s right, isn’t it?  This is so surreal I have to be dreaming.  Any moment now the dog turns into a donkey knitting a banana and you turn into someone with a grain of common sense.”

“He would be company for me.  When you leave me alone all day.”

Xander flinched.

“Low blow.”

“Did it work?”

Xander stared at the dog, and the dog stared at Xander.

“He’s…  Smiling.  Do dogs smile?”

“This one does.  But he only smiles at you,” Spike said with such sweet, innocent, diabolical manipulation that Xander cracked and laughed.

“We’ll have to call the animal shelters, call the cops, check the local paper.  No-one claims him I won’t stand in the way of true love.”  He laughed again at the smug smile on Spike’s face.  “You don’t really want him, you just want to prove you have me twisted around your finger.”

“There’s that space off the utility room we don’t use.  Nothing much in there, a few sticks of furniture.”  The conservatory furniture from when Cedar House was a show house had been left in there for Xander to use in the garden until he bought his own.  “He could have the old sofa so we wouldn’t have to find him a bed.”

“You’ve actually thought this through,” Xander announced with amazement.  Spike turned his face away and Xander quickly slid down to drape over him.  “You want us to keep this dog?  Seriously?”  Spike shrugged.  Xander tugged gently at his ear lobe.  “Company?”

“Thought you wouldn’t mind another stray.”

“Hey,” Xander whispered, and Spike turned back, receiving a gentle kiss.  “I am undeniably twisted around your finger.  You get whatever you want.”

“Can I want without knowing why I want?”

“Sure.”  Xander gave Spike another, deeper kiss, feeling the vibration from a satisfied moan tickling at him.  Sex or sleep?  Sex with an audience - Xander glanced over his shoulder at the highly attentive dog.  Yes, definitely with an audience - or Spike sleeping now and being good, wide awake company later?  No contest.  “Get some sleep, I’ll take care of…  What are you going to call him?” Xander asked, expecting to hear fang or slasher or Lucifer or…

“Henry.”

…anything but Henry.

“Why Henry?”

Spike leant up and studied the dog some more.

“He looks like a Henry.”

Nuh-uh, he looks like a Chewbacca.

“Uh…yup, okay.”

“Should be Sir Henry by rights.”

“That means something to either the English or the educated, doesn’t it?”

Spike gave a knowing smile, muttering something as he turned over to go back to sleep; it took a few seconds for Xander to translate it into a recognisable language.  He couldn’t find it in himself to get mad, but if he were a dog, he’d be smiling too if supper had been the vast joint of best beef that would’ve fed the entire family later in the day.

Feeling his nakedness acutely under the unwavering scrutiny, Xander quickly dressed and finally crossed to the dog…  Henry.  …to say a proper hello.  It was a shock when Henry…  Sir Henry.  …stood up and reached Xander’s waist, but despite his size he was friendly and placid and wore that uncanny smile.  Xander received an enthusiastic wag as he stroked the comfortably-shaped head and scratched behind the drooping ears; a close-up of those warm brown eyes and Xander was as smitten as Spike.  A long pink tongue slurped across his hand and he’d have parted with an entire cow if he’d had one about his person.

Determined to discover a little more about Henry, Xander found his camera before taking the dog to the ante-room, talking to him constantly, explaining what he was doing as he pulled the dustsheet from the sofa, folded it and dropped it to the floor.  With the unerring sense of a child who, on receipt of a two-hundred dollar gift, will only play with the box it came in, Henry settled himself on the dustsheet and adopted the air of having spent his life there.

Xander took a couple of pictures, told Henry he was going to use the computer…

“Is this why people have dogs?  So they can talk to themselves without being thought of as crazy?”

…and felt silly and smug when Henry chose to accompany him to the study.  Xander sat at the desk, and Henry sat beside him, watching with interest as Xander booted up and proceeded to download the pictures before clicking onto Outlook.

…

Xander e-mailed Willow:

…

Willow e-mailed Xander:

…

Xander e-mailed Willow:

…

Willow e-mailed Xander:

…

“I bet you get the Sir Henry, too,” Xander said to Henry, who simply smiled enigmatically.

Next up, Xander phoned Beth.

“Hi, Beth, you know this dinner tonight?  …  Yeah, any chance you could actually bring dinner with you?  See, Spike found this dog and fed him…  …  Yup, you got it.  …  Big, scruffy, ugly gorgeous.  …  My wolf?  Yes!  Yes, that’s it, this is who I saw.  Damn, he’s been out there all this time, and I could have…  …  You think?  …  Yeah, well, I guess he looks fit enough, like he’s been fending well for himself.  …  Irish Wolfhound, Willow says.  Wolf, Wolfhound, I was pretty close.  …  That’s okay then?  …  Will you?  That’d be great.  …  See you later.”

Xander replaced the receiver and stood.  Henry was on his feet in seconds.

“You want I should show you around?  Or did Spike do that?”  Henry wagged his tail.  “I’ll show you the grounds.”  Xander’s smile faded.  “I guess I’ll have to check.  See who you belong to.”  His hand rested on the dog’s head and he stroked, thoughtfully.  “Or maybe…maybe not.  Not right now.”

Outside, and Xander gave Henry the guided tour, finding sticks to throw and admiring the animal’s surprising speed as he raced after them.  He undiscerningly brought back whatever he found, the sticks, rocks, half a branch that had fallen from a tree in the wood, and even that didn’t appear to put the slightest strain on the powerful jaws.  And he bounced.  A dog this size bounced.  Bounced and woofed expectantly as Xander prepared to throw the next stick, the bark a deep rumble like thunder, and Xander was further besotted.

When Spike rose a little later, he found his immediate family watching TV, Xander at one end of the sofa, Henry at the other.  They turned to him and smiled.

“If I could teach you to wag your tail you’d be a matching pair,” Spike told Xander as he sat between them and fairly divided his attention.

“I could try,” Xander replied, tongue finding the spot behind Spike’s ear that always caused a shiver, hand sliding into the satin robe to gently stroke rapidly thickening flesh.

“Do we have time for this?”

“Probably not.”

“We’d have to be fast.”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed, hand starting to pump Spike’s erection.  “Fast.  Fast’s good.”

Movement on the sofa and the men looked around and up to find Henry sitting and towering over them, paying avid attention to their every move.

“Didn’t think of this, did you?” Xander chuckled.  “I’m telling you, Spike, if he wants to join in, I am so not being his bitch.”

Spike scratched the dog’s neck.

“Make yourself scarce, mate.”

Henry climbed off the sofa and moved closer to the TV, contentedly settling down to watch the rest of the movie.

“That was…”

Xander didn’t get a chance to finish before nimble fingers were unbuttoning and unzipping.

“Fast, Xan.”

“Upstairs.”

“Here.”

“I want to see you in the mirror when I fuck you.”

Spike wavered.

“Here.”

Their hands searched vainly between the cushions.

“This cannot happen,” Xander protested.  “There are at least twenty tubes of the stuff around this house.  How can the sofa be lubeless?”

“Upstairs?”

“Fuck, yes.”

They’d got to the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rang.

“Fuck, no!” from Xander was drowned out by barking as Henry rushed into the hallway to protect his new home.

“Shut up, dog!”

The dog fell silent, but remained staring at the door, hackles raised, tense as a coiled spring.

“He’s going to eat my friends,” Xander whined comically, and Spike began to laugh.

Xander zipped himself up and re-tied Spike’s robe, pushing him up the first few stairs.  Spike leant back into Xander’s touch, turning easily with the help of the slippery material.  He took Xander’s face in his hands.

“Have I told you recently how much I love you?” he asked, still laughing.

“Yeah,” Xander smiled back, “you have.”

Spike pressed his mouth to Xander’s, tongue swiping over the bottom lip.

“However much I said, I lied.  It’s more.”

“Did you mean that before I agreed to keep the mutt?” Xander replied, just before the next ring and a further eruption of barking.

They both cringed at the noise and Spike bolted.

“Henry!”  Henry sat and looked over his shoulder at Xander, a picture of sedate innocence.  “You don’t eat my friends.”  Wag, wag, wag.  “Great.  Now I have to learn to talk dog.”

Xander welcomed Beth, Patrick, two boxes of food containers and a further two of liquid provisions.  Henry greeted them like old friends despite his previous show of canine machismo, and Beth immediately began informing the dog about the things she’d bought him on the way, just as she’d promised Xander.  Patrick spent a while studying the hound appraisingly.

“Hamish.”

“Henry,” Xander corrected.

“He’s a Hamish.”

“Tell that to Spike.”

“Tell what to Spike?” Spike asked as he wandered into the conversation, crossing to give Beth’s cheek a quick kiss before doing the same to Patrick without even thinking about it.

“He’s a Hamish,” Patrick repeated.

“Henry,” said Spike.

Henry looked round expectantly.

“Hamish,” Patrick called.

Henry bounded over and almost knocked Patrick flying.

“Hamish,” Beth agreed with Patrick.

“But that’s Scottish, and he’s Irish,” Xander insisted.

“Hamish?” Spike tried, and received the full force of the dog’s affection.  Taking another good look, Spike viewed the dog this way and that.  “Might be a Hamish.”

“The Scots have it.  Give in gracefully, Alex,” Beth told him with a smile, waving one of the toys at him.  “Or you don’t get to play with Mr Squeaky.”

Spike drew breath to speak; Xander’s glare stopped the words but not the snigger.

Noise in the hallway indicated the arrival of Jake and Cora, followed surprisingly swiftly by Rafe and Moira.  Henry – or possibly Hamish – raced out to perform his protective duty, giving a solitary and rather non- threatening woof before succumbing to a barrage of fuss.  Xander emerged from the kitchen, introducing Henry before ushering people through to the living room.

Once the two were left alone, Henry leapt at Rafe, almost bowling the large man over.  Rafe crouched on one knee and was inundated by licks and playful nibbles before he finally managed to grapple the madly wagging dog into a hug.

“Hiya, Hame,” he said into the shaggy fur.  “I wondered when you’d get here.”

Repossession 91       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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