Xander was awake early and hours before Spike would rouse, not unusual in any way, but Xander was counting each moment as precious. This morning was Thursday, they only had three more days then… He spent a long time petting and running his fingers through his beloved’s the curly long locks. Was it any wonder other men found his lover a threat. Someone so undoubtedly powerful and self assured, a being embodying energy and skill, yet bound tight in a package of such ethereal beauty, that it would make anyone (regardless of gender) swoon were they to gain his attention.

Xander stroked the now untangled and silky strands… How did he warrant such a beauty? How could such a wonderful being walk into his life, reigniting the fire, lay him bare after so many years?... Spike completed him so utterly… and yet he was to watch him walk away down an air-bridge on Sunday. It would only be two and a half months… sixty days until he had promised to come back… but how can one live without their heart for sixty days? How could he bear such separation when only just discovering what it felt to be complete?

He eased himself from below Spike, wandered to the study and booted up the computer to send a long neglected email to Willow.

“Hey Wils,

Apologies for the delayed reply. How are you doing?

Back at work after the break. A bit of a challenge, but hey. Besen project is going fine and we have a bunch of others on the go at the moment.

Had Spike staying here for over a week – he’s heading back to Boston shortly.

Do you have any time to take a call in the next day or so? Got something personal I need a friend for… Please suggest a time…

Sending you my Love as always and can you pass on hugs to you Dawn and Buff (if she’s there) – and give Giles an extra squeeze for me – just to mess with him ;-p

X”

He glanced up to see Spike standing at the door, the perfect model for a nude ‘David’, except for the look of semi annoyance. The large blobs of chocolate adorning the vampire’s heel and calf said it all.

“You left the bloody chocolates on the end of the bed!” Spike held out his right leg, “Care to lick me clean pet?”

Xander looked at his partner’s waggling right foot, then at the associated suggestive grin, and decided to give as good as he was getting for a change.

“So long as you lie naked at my feet, I’ll do most things for free. Licking clean included.” With that he pushed back from the desk and made the act of clearing the floor in front of him. Spike was almost instantly lying nude at his feet, staring up apparently innocently, legs in the air ready for ‘cleaning’.

“Ready when you are pet.” The attempted innocence gave way to lascivious grin and wiggle of an eyebrow.

Xander rolled his eyes, groaned with false annoyance then fell to his knees on the floor and began to systematically clean the proffered feet, then calves then inner thighs… and from there the taste of chocolate in his mouth simply seemed to carry its own allure. He felt it his responsibility to lick all aspects of Spike ‘in case of chocolate’. An activity he was in no way dissuaded from.

The morning’s adventures ended as was to be expected… on the floor, side by side, smelling of sex, utterly spent and sated. Unfortunately Xander realized, rather belatedly, that it was his mobile ringing for the third time somewhere in the study, and not just some random noise. After answering Andy (who was apparently waiting in the car park of their apartment complex), he displayed extraordinary speed in showering and dressing, before kissing Spike fondly and leaving his companion to return to late morning shower then slumber in their shared bed.

Spike was woken just past two by the doorbell persistently ringing.

“Alright… alright! Bloody hell! Will you give it a rest, I’m coming you git” Spike tugged on a pair of jeans and stomped to the door, muttering various threats of evisceration and torture prior to flinging the door open. It was Andy, looking awkward and upset. Spike felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Hey Will, got a minute?”

“Sure pet, what’s up? Come in, come in!” He ushered *their* friend into the lounge, Spike absently wondering at the quick transition to shared friends. “Just sit tight for a minute pet, gotta get meself a bit decent.”

Spike quickly grabbed a form hugging blue shirt and fetched a couple of beers from the fridge. He handed one to Andy and sat opposite the man.

Andy took the bottle, screwed off the lid with practiced ease then proceeded to lean forward staring at the label. “Look Will, umm, God this is hard!”

“Tell ya what mate – probably better out than in by the looks of things!”

“Umm OK… I’m worried about Xan …. God this is difficult…” Andy abruptly stood and wandered over to the wall unit to idly poke at various objet d’ arte. He finally turned a looked directly at Spike.

“I’ve only known Xan for five years OK? But he’s a good guy… and a great friend… and… I know he was really worried by that Jarrad and the gay targeting thing… but I’ve seen him at his lowest and that didn’t even come close… Ahh shoot… Since you’ve been here Xan has been happier than I have ever seen… Geez, I didn’t even know the guy could smile like that! You know he’s got no family left right?”

Spike nodded. It was his turn to stare at the label of his beer. Just as well Young & Co. breweries had interesting labels – the classic from ‘across the pond’ a welcome distraction when the message was obviously to be a painful one.

“So what’s your point mate?”

“Umm, look I know you’re an author and Xan kind of hinted at the investment stuff, and I kind of drew my own conclusions on that one… you’re pretty rich right? Ahh hell! Xan’s a friend and I’ve seen the lost look on him before but this time it was bad, and in my car, and this morning when he was talking about you leaving! And now the scar’s starting to play up again, I wondered if…”

“What about ‘is scar?”

“You know… the missing eye thing - given him hell, for all the time I’ve known him it’s been a problem… Sounds weird but I figure it has at least a bit of an emotional link ‘cause I haven’t seen him take the painkillers once since you’ve been here, well except for today on the way to work... Figured you should know… it got really bad today, I took him to the UC Davis Centre at lunchtime – eye specialist Dr McMahon there is great.”

Spike turned utterly incredulous. “The daft bugger… if it was *that* bad, why didn’t he say sommit?! Why didn’t he call?”

“God Will, I assumed he had! I kind of figured that you… Look I’m really sorry, I kind of assumed that you guys talked and there was some… um…  I should have guessed! Xan never tells anyone … I only know ‘cause I’ve always had to drive him home when it gets too bad.”

“What do you mean ‘bad’? Like today bad? Bloody emergency treatment type bad? C’mon Andy clue me in here, ‘cause the boy certainly hasn’t!” Spike’s eye’s were ringed with gold.

“I’m *so* sorry buddy. Look, why don’t we go together? Will? How about you come with, I’ll drive you there and then…”

Spike looked at the afternoon light and the thankfully heavily overcast sky. “Don’t want to put you out mate. And I really appreciate you… coming over and tellin’ me this stuff.” Spike reached out and squeezed the taller man’s hand. “ Look, I know you’re busy, so how about you drop me at the door of the clinic and I’ll give you a call after talking to the boy...”  Andy was surprised at his own reaction to William. The man was not only good looking but also charismatic and exuded a wisdom and power that Andy could not quite process, but resolved to ask Xan about.

“Look pet, I figure you think I’m a right prat for not lookin’ after the boy, but I swear the lad said aught about this business with his eye… And for the life of me I can’t see why not, but there you are…” Spike’s tone dropped to a mere whisper, his eyes flashed gold then he looked up at Andy with azure eyes brimming with tears. “You know more don’t you?!” It was a statement not a question.

“Yeah well… I think it’s Xan’s place to talk about the ins and outs, but yeah, I think he has some real ongoing issues.”

“Right, well… just let me get sommit decent on, and we can be on our way.”

Spike joined his ‘driver’ in the underground carpark, having first pensively viewed the sky as he left the apartment. He had his duster with him, along with a thick ski scarf and hat, figuring that were the sun to come out, it might give him a few extra seconds of protection and worry about explanations later. Fortunately the sunlight was not an issue during the drive, but the waves of anxiety from Andy certainly were.

Andy, true to his word, dropped Spike at the door of the hospital, with promises to check on his work friend a little later. Finding Xander proved somewhat of a challenge for the blonde. Xander had been moved from the emergency area sometime mid afternoon and the only thing Spike could establish for sometime was that he was still somewhere in the building. Finally a perky young intern pointed him in the direction of the specialists’ rooms explaining that Xander was an unusual case and quite well known to the doctors. At that point Spike stopped listening, desperate to find his partner and reassure himself that all was well.

After winding through the maze of corridors following ‘Ms Cheerleader come Doctor in training’, Spike finally found himself in an area obviously devoted physicians specializing in eyes. The intern had directed him to a Dr McMahon’s rooms where he announced himself to the receptionist. It was confirmed that Xander was indeed inside, so sat and waited.

Spike flicked idly through a surprisingly recent pile of magazines, obviously favourites of the doctor and his staff - ‘Luxury Cars’, ‘Who weekly’, ‘Quilting for the new Millennia’, ‘Angler’s Monthly’, ‘Tiger Woods’ Golf’, ‘Vanity Fair’ and ‘Time’.  Forty minutes, later he was bored to near comatose by the delights of paisley patterned bedspreads; the merits of the long putter; the dire condition of some of Canada’s salmon breeding grounds; and the ‘shock story’ of who amongst the current celebrities were too fat too thin or just too. He was just beginning to day dream about eviscerating the rather plump receptionist, who had been chewing peppermints and irritating him by filing her nails for the last twenty minutes, when the door opened on the consulting suite.

Xander was standing with his hand tightly gripping the inside handle and white gauze patch obvious over his missing eye. His doctor had walked him to the door. Spike rose and moved toward his friend as he sensed the terror and pain flowing from the boy, utterly contradicting his attempt at an upbeat farewell to the doctor. Xander turned to see a lovely blonde waiting for him, It was all that was needed to crack the brave façade.

Spike sped forward and caught his friend with one arm as the brunette began to sway, at the same time grabbing the wrist of the doctor before he closed the door. “What’s up with him?!”

The doctor looked more than a little surprised by the vice like grip. “And you are?”

“William Aurelius, the ‘significant other’, mate. What’s wrong with the lad?… Seems he’s been holdin’ out on me.” The young surgeon observed the slim blonde’s tight grip on his patient, noting that it was reciprocated by an extremely relieved looking Xander. He quickly understood the relationship and proceeded to inform the partner.

 “Ahhh, well… umm… Our tests indicate that the trauma to the eye and socket was extreme at the time, and it seems apparent that the damage goes beyond the immediate region.” Spike slowly released his grip and nodded. The apparently nervous, redheaded doctor was shifting from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable with revealing bad news.

Xander had been enveloped by the vampire’s arms and was now standing with his back to the specialist. Spike looked over the brunette’s shoulder, the gold flashes through his steely blue gaze sending an implicit message of warning to the medico standing in front of them. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It seems that the nerve ends connecting the retina to the vision receptors in the brain are still overly sensitive… like ghost limbs when a person has an amputation. In simple terms, Xander’s brain keeps trying to ‘see things’, and like any bodily weakness, it occurs more when tired or stressed.” Despite Jeff McMahon feeling inexplicably nervous around the smaller blonde man, he was touched by the calming caresses that his patient was receiving from the rather assertive ‘other half’.

Spike barely restrained a feral growl, “So this means?? How about you just cut to the chase doc?”

“We don’t really know… Xander’s C.A.T. scans and the MRI’s are showing unusual patterns that reflect some sort of regeneration of cells, but really that could be anything. Our biggest worry is that it might be a reactive growth of some description. At this stage we have no way of telling, it could just be the tissue settling or some odd benign growth… we will have to monitor it, I’m sorry that I can’t help more than that… I’ve prescribed some very effective new generation painkillers designed for this sort of nerve injury – and I would recommend avoiding the glass eye for a few weeks, just until things settle down again.”

“So you’re tellin’ us that it could be cancer, or just a whole lot of nothin’, or somethin’ even more bizarre like what…an eye growing back?!?”

The doctor’s tone dropped to a conciliatory soft baritone, “I’m sorry William, is it? We just can’t tell at this stage. I have not seen an injury quite like this one before. I know Alexander reported that the damage was done during a brawl at a winery, but really… the area looks more like it has been punctured by a burning object rather than a thumb as Xander seems to describe the incident. The whole area looks like it was scorched and cauterized. The damage to the nerves in the area should be permanent and the scar tissue should stabilize after a time, but for some reason Xander’s just hasn’t quite done that yet. In fact a few months ago, as I said before, it appeared as though the tissue was beginning to regenerate… I’m sorry Will but it is still a bit of a mystery. I wish I could tell you more… I can recommend some colleagues down in San Fransisco that specialize in burns, if you’d like to get a second opinion …”

Spike warmed to the physician who obviously was trying his best. “Thanks mate, but how’s about I just take the boy home for now?” Xander stood and shook the doctor’s hand. And with that Spike led his human friend from the room, whispering “I’m gonna chat to the Red witch and the watcher – bloody burned… bollocks… some sort of mojo more like!”

Spike guided his friend out the door, silently led him down the seemingly endless corridors to the exit, and hailed a cab. The vampire noted with some relief that the sun be past the horizon within minutes.

The ride home was painfully silent. Xander’s socket was throbbing despite the painkillers and Spike’s whole demeanor exuded worry, anger and regret. Xander couldn’t help but be reminded of the Sunnydale Spike shortly after the winery debacle. The vampire had saved him, he had no doubt of that, but Spike had continued to feel deeply responsible for Xander’s injury. Staring out the window, he smiled as he recalled Spike raiding the abandoned Bronze for pool table and beer, and the few very pleasant long afternoons spent discovering each other before their world was torn apart.

Spike ushered his friend inside the apartment, wordlessly made hot chocolate, ran a bath and stripped the man. Were it not for Spike’s apparent annoyance and his refusal to join Xander in the bath, the brunette would have felt quite content. As it was, the sense of disquiet served to make the bath tense and short, as were any words passing between the partners.

Xander was sitting on the edge of the bath when he caught the tail end of a conversation. Spike had obviously taken the opportunity to call England.

“Yeah Red. ‘Course!... Hmmm… Is the watcher there?... What does he reckon?... Well you better get on it! ‘Cause the boy ain’t gettin’ any better while we all yack.  Right well… thanks Red… call me back yeah…” Spike hung up the phone then looked up to see the towel clad body observing him from the doorway.

“Hey, pet.”

Xander’s tone was quiet, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since this morning.” Xander wandered into the study and slumped onto the small settee, staring dejectedly at his own hands. “Figure you’re mad at me… but… I just didn’t know how to tell you, and figured you might not want to… you know? When you found out that there were still problems… that I’m still kind of ‘broken’…”

Spike had embraced him in a fierce hug before the human had even had time to take another breath. “Oh luv!... Not broken, and I was ticked off at meself for not picking it, not because of the injury! Give me a little credit pet! Hardly gonna run out on a lover just cause they’re in a bad way!”

Xander would not look him in the eye, “No, I know that… Love you Spike so much… I just… I just…don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not pet, even if I fly back to the city of tea parties, it will only to sort some things. I’ll be back in no time.” Spike lifted the beloved chin and looked into the hopeful chocolate gaze.

“You said ‘if’…?”

“Yeah well, slip of the tongue pet.” Spike watched as his friend’s face fell again. “You know I have to get organized if I’m to head this way again yeah?”  

“But does it have to be months?” Xander was suddenly aware that he sounded awfully like a petulant child.

“We’ll see luv… Oi and none of that sad face!” Spike was just about to lean in for a reassuring kiss when the shrill ring of the phone interrupted.

Spike answered then handed the handset to Xander mouthing ‘Andy’ as he went.

I’m fine… No really I am… Yeah… Yup… No don’t worry, just tell Pete I’ll check it in the morning… You still OK picking me up? I get the car back tomorrow… Yep… Thanks… OK see you then… And Andy? Thanks again, really! It means a lot.”

He had hardly had time to replace the receiver when the phone rang again.

“Hello?... Watcher. Yes I’ll put him on.” With that Spike handed over the conversation to Xander and wandered out to the kitchen to heat a long overdue snack for himself.

He reentered the study, mug of warm blood in hand, to catch the tail end of the conversation.

“But why do we need to be there for that?... I’ve only got another two weeks due… yeah I know… I know! Well I’m not sure… I’ll ask, hang on..”

Xander held his hand over the mouthpiece. “Giles thinks… um…”

“Spit it out before it chokes you pet.”

“He thinks it would be best if we go to them. You know tests and… He thinks they can, well that is with your help.” Xander’s tone dropped almost to a whisper, “With your blood.”