Xander winced as Spike grabbed his arms, holding him still for his evening frisking. Or, in Spike-speak, a kiss. The vampire pulled back at the grimace of pain that overtook his lover's face.

 

"What did you do?"

 

"How do you know I did? Maybe I got done? Hmm? Ever think of that, Mr. vampire strength?"

 

"I know you didn't get done, because no one does the doing but me." Spike shook his head, /and to think I have a classical education under all this/ and attempted to roll up the baggy sleeve of Xander's orange, turquoise, and puce /puce?/ sweater. 

 

Xander wrenched arm away, and turned away from Spike. /Boy's been favoring that side all week./

 

"What did you do?" he asked again.

 

"Nothing," Xander stated, too forcefully to be believed.

 

"You've lived with me for how long and you still can't lie?"

 

"Three years, Tuesday." The reply fell from Xander's mouth before he could stop it, and Spike swore that if it was possible, Xander would be scurrying across the room, scooping the sentence back up and shoving it in his pockets.

 

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "And this has to do with you breaking your arm how?"

 

"It's not broken."

 

"Stick it out, here." Xander stuck his arm straight out.

 

"Shake it around some." Xander shimmied, and began humming, the "That's what it's all a-bout!" coming far too loud for anyone with pride to have uttered. But this was Xander, so it was just about right.

 

"Up. Put 'em over your head." Xander raised his arms.

 

"Spike used his supernatural speed to pull the sweater over Xander's head. When he saw the bandage on his bicep, though, he stopped, leaving Xander with his arm pinned to his side, and the wool, literally, pulled over his eyes.

 

Spike ripped the gauze off Xander's arm, taking with it several hairs, and Xander shouted, a noise the likes of which he hadn't heard outside the bedroom in too long a time. /Remember to fuck boy on table./

 

He was preparing to kill whatever it was that had hurt his Xander when he saw it. Deadly-sharp, obviously aged, just rusty enough, gleaming head engraved with a stylized 'S'. Ink met skin, and Xander was marked permanently as Spike's with a tattoo of his namesake.

 

"Happy... anniversary." The table was definitely well used.