Spike lay on his back, smoking and looking at the stars. He thought it was quite amazing that he had not lost interest in the heavenly bodies above him in all the years that he had laid underneath them, staring into their depths.

He closed his eyes, blowing smoke towards the moon. When the burning ash reached his fingers, he crushed the cigarette out on the asphalt-covered tiles beside his head.

He searched for another cigarette, his hands anxious to be doing something. As he brought his lighter up, he saw a shooting star fly by.

“Well, well… What a pretty sight. Shooting stars. Dru, baby, did you see that?” He thought back to the nights he had spent with Drusilla as she waited anxiously to see the lights shooting across the sky. Her childhood belief that a wish made on the flying debris would come true still strong in her mind.

Spike lit his cigarette, inhaled and dropped both arms to his sides, lying spread-eagled on the roof of his apartment building.

Thoughts of his dark princess no longer tore into his heart. He was confident that they would never again be together as they were and truthfully, he really didn’t want to anymore. Too many things had changed; the last incident with Angelus had destroyed any hope of recovering their relationship.

Spike scoffed. Relationship, right.

He was her pet, her servant. He would have done anything for her and often did, but it wasn’t the same for her. He no longer desired her as he once did, though. Thoughts of running his hands over her slim form no longer interested him, no longer aroused him and no longer hurt. He loved Drusilla, always would, but she was no longer his world.

No matter, when he was laid out under the stars, he spoke to her. Something about the familiar skies reminded him of good times with his wicked plum. He smiled at the remembrance.

He slipped easily into the language and soft accent of his youth, he had no one to play the Big Bad for up here. “Oh, Dru. This hurts so badly. I don’t know if I can handle this much longer. This fucking chip…” Spike stopped speaking as a sob attempted to escape his throat.

“Shit.” He drew the hand holding his cigarette across his face before dropping it to his mouth to draw in another lungful of comforting smoke.

He thought back on the past three weeks. He had told Giles the truth; it had been months since his chip had gone off. The limits on his behavior were rigidly defined. He could contemplate violence all he wanted, he just could not act on his thoughts. Direct contact with a human, no matter how accidental, caused the chip to surge. However, tonight was the first night that the chip had gone off when he had thrown something in the general direction of a human with no intent to harm.

Fuck, he hadn’t even meant the damn bottle to get that close to the Whelp. He had thrown at the gravel at the boy’s feet. His chip fired a warning shot at the remembered image. The thing firing at his anger towards the Council was simply intolerable.

He was no longer safe in his own head.

Spike growled, sat up and threw his cigarette across the roof. Something had to give.

He lay back down, trying to calm himself.

“Drusilla, my queen, I understand your madness now. Angelus caused you all that pain and you were so innocent, so pure…”

No use dwelling on the past or on things he could not change. He glanced up at the stars, naming the planets that were visible to his searching eyes.

 After a long while, his roaming thoughts turned to his home and to the two humans he shared it with. Spike had been shocked when Xander had offered his spare room to him. By the look on the boy’s face, Xander had been taken by surprise as well.

Spike had waited for the boy to rescind his offer, but Xander had stayed firm, telling the others that he had offered the space and would stand by it, no matter how much it confused him.

So… after a week of waiting for the boy to appear and tell him to stay away, Spike had appeared at the whelp’s door, his few possessions in hand. He had smirked at the whelp and the demon girl, handed an envelope of cash to the boy and stalked into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Spike still wasn’t sure what caused him to give him the money in the first place. He knew that the boy was young and still struggling financially, but he really didn’t care, or he shouldn’t have at any rate. Still, he found himself shoving wads of cash at the boy. If Xander had been surprised at the money, he had never mentioned it. Anya had asked a time or two, but Spike had remained silent on the subject. He had amassed an impressive fortune in his long life; he just couldn’t quite access all of it.

Spike made a mental note to speak with his sire about his accounts that were currently sitting in Angelus’ name overseas. Spike had always hated dealing with money and had left it to the older vampire to manage his funds. Now that he was unable to hunt, he needed to be able to buy his meals.

The hospitality of the Scoobies would not hold out forever.

Anya had helped him acquire a few furnishings for his room, welcoming him into her home after making it quite clear that he was not to interrupt them at any time if Xander was in the process of giving her orgasms. He laughed aloud at the ex-demon who shared his space. What a fiery girl.

The whelp on the other hand… Spike was unsure as to what he felt about the boy.

His relationships with Tara and the watcher had grown and developed into what he considered true friendships. Red was still a bit skittish around him, but he understood that, after all, he had directly threatened her life more often than any of the other Scoobies.

Anya and he had a lot in common. He enjoyed swapping war stories with her over tea. She was the only one who had been alive during the same time periods as he had. It was nice to reminisce with someone who had been there.

Buffy was the Slayer, cautious and wary, but as the months went by, she had become less threatening. Her soldier had contributed greatly to that end. She had no time to focus on Spike or his problems.

But the whelp… Spike sighed and lit another cigarette. Xander… Spike was beginning to wonder about the boy.

Xander was an enigma. He yelled at Spike, told him how worthless and unwanted he was, but the gentleness in his eyes when he lifted him off the ground…

Spike growled in frustration. He was not going to finish that thought. Yes, the boy was attractive; he could admit that. Spike had always had a thing for tall creatures with dark eyes and hair. Angelus and Drusilla… He smiled as he thought of his first lovers.

But Xander was human, straight and severely demonphobic. No use even enjoying the scenery there.

Straight? Enjoy the scenery? Spike had tried not to look at Xander as anything but an annoying nuisance until tonight. He wondered why the concern in the boy’s eyes had affected him so deeply.

Spike closed his eyes and contemplated the young man. He had enjoyed the boy’s sense of humor since day one. The lad was bloody brilliant, although none of the others seemed to notice. Spike enjoyed spending time with him. Annoying the whelp was his current favorite pastime.

Xander had slimmed since starting his job in construction. His skin had darkened to a warm honeyed tone, the muscles evident beneath his white wife beaters shifted gently as he pulled on his baggy overshirts. Spike’s mind began to wander.

Xander closed his eyes, running his hands over the strong abs under the worn cotton of his shirt. His hands dropped to his belt, his fingers dangling down to brush against the treasure hidden below. One hand rose, pulling his shirt up as his fingers drifted towards his nipple. Strong, calloused fingers gently pinched the brown nub, tugging at the soft hair surrounding the warm flesh.

Slowly, the shirt is pulled up and over his head, exposing the wide expanse of his chest. Sweat from his day outside still gleamed on tanned skin. Xander’s hands dropped to his fly, releasing button after button, allowing lighter flesh to appear between the spreading fabric.

Spike moaned at the images that filled his mind. His hand drifted down to his covered cock, softly caressing the burgeoning flesh. His eyes flew open in panic.

“What the fuck?”

Spike jumped up from his position on the roof, dropping the dead cigarette from his grasp. He walked to the edge of the roof, looking down on Sunnydale.

“That’s it, I’ve lost it.” He looked up at the sky. “Dru, luv, if you can hear me, I’ll join you in la-la land soon.”

Spike jumped off the edge of the roof, gracefully landing on the grass below. Snarling, he brought up his game face and raced into the night, fleeing from his own thoughts.

*****

Xander sat on the couch in the living room, listening to Anya’s snores through the open door of their bedroom. He lifted his beer, taking a long swallow, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid flowing down his throat.

Thoughts of Spike were haunting him.

The chip that had protected them for so long was misfiring. Xander was not a stupid man; he knew what that meant. They were in danger. Anya, Buffy, Giles, Willow, Tara and himself were all in grave danger. If the chip burnt itself out and didn’t fry Spike’s brain in the process, the vampire would be able to return to his old hunting habits.

OK. Well, that was all well and good. Knowing that they were in danger was the first step in protecting themselves. The only problem was, he wanted to help the vampire get the damn thing out.

The hardware in his head had been zapping Spike several times a day now. Xander would have found it amusing if the vampire had brought it on himself, but the fact of the matter was that Spike was doing nothing to cause the chip to go off.

Xander took another long swallow of beer, emptying his bottle. He threw at the trashcan, lobbing it in without touching the sides. “Two points!” He threw his arms up in celebration.

He contemplated getting up off the couch to get another beer, but the movement required to do so was unappealing. He reached down and pulled off his boots, wriggling his toes as they escaped their confinement.

As he lay back on the sofa, his thoughts returned to the annoying vampire. Spike’s chip was really screwing up. Xander had a rudimentary understanding of electronics and knew that something bad was going on in the vampire’s brain. He knew that Spike had learned the limits of his chip a long time ago and always acted accordingly. Spike played at being tough, but the pain of the chip was obviously debilitating and he avoided it at all costs.

Xander wondered at the unusual nature of the blond man. A vampire. He should not be living in an apartment with a couple and sharing living expenses with them.

Spike had given Xander almost two thousand dollars in cash the night he had moved in. He never said a word about it, so Xander never did either. Every once in a while, a new envelope would appear in the bowl that Xander emptied his pockets into.

He knew Anya was curious about the money. Xander had wondered if the vampire had finally gotten lucky and scored big in a mugging. He hadn’t heard any news about that, though, so he doubted it.

Anya’s snores grew louder and Xander shuddered gently. He loved Anya, but was quickly learning that he really didn’t want to live with her. It wasn’t just the snoring, either. She seemed to be treating him more as a child than a lover. On many occasions she out and out mothered him and Spike.

He knew that she and Spike would sit and talk for hours when he was out. He really wasn’t interested in their conversations, but he did find it interesting that he didn’t care. Shouldn’t he be concerned that his girlfriend was spending hours on end with another man? Another man who was an extremely sexy blond with stunning musculature and a striking accent.

Xander’s thoughts drifted, the vampire filled his head. Spike was not especially modest. When they lived in his parent’s basement, it was not unusual for the vampire to walk around nude. Here, he pulled on sweats in the mornings for breakfast, but left everything else uncovered. Xander began to imagine what that strong chest might feel like under his fingers, cool and dry…

Xander jerked and hit himself in the head with the palm of his hand. “What in the heck are you thinking about?” He smiled as Anya snorted and shuffled in her sleep. Xander’s thoughts returned to the chip in his friend’s brain.

Xander looked over at his computer sitting on the desk in the corner. He dragged himself from the warm embrace of his couch and plopped down in the chair in front of his desk. Turning on the machine, he began to search for information on computer chips.

*****

Shortly before dawn, Xander was pulled from his research by the sound of keys in the front door. Spike walked through the room, glancing at Xander, but not speaking as he entered his bedroom. Xander sighed and turned off the computer. He had to be at work in less than an hour. A shower was in order.

Xander worked through his day as an automaton. As he lifted, hammered and drilled, he thought on the intricacies of the human brain. As he reviewed the complicated blueprints with the architect, he thought of plans for a complicated computer chip.

By the end of the day, Xander had come up with a single idea with which to help Spike. It seemed too simple and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t work, but he was going to bring it up tonight at the meeting.

Xander clocked out and headed for home. He was too hot and sweaty to go straight to the Magic Box. Instead, he looked forward to a long, cool shower in the quiet of his own apartment.

He knew better than to plan anything like that. As soon as he walked in the door, Anya, Willow and Buffy accosted him, all talking loudly about something that he couldn’t understand.

“Hey, hey, hey! HEY!” His shouts finally quieted the gaggle of girls and he eased past them and into the kitchen for a glass of water and a beer. The girls stood in the doorway and watched him as he finished the water and popped the lid off the beer.

Sighing, he looked at the group in front of him. “I’m not getting a shower right now, am I?” All three heads shook no.

“Fine, at least let me sit down. He pushed past the crowd in the doorway and sat on the couch, stretching his legs out and propping his work boots on the table.

“OK. Shoot.” As all three mouths opened, he amended his statement. “One at a time, please.”

Buffy and Willow looked at Anya as she took a deep breath. “Xander, you are not going to believe what happened!” She paused and looked at the other girls, both bouncing on their toes as they eagerly anticipated Xander’s reaction to their news.

“We have been invited to go to LA.” She sighed triumphantly as she completed her news.

Xander stared at her blankly and said, “Ok.” He then stood up and headed for the shower.

“Alexander Harris! Come back here!” Xander stopped mid-step, spun and returned to the couch, dropping down to the cushions.

“As I was saying, Cordelia called the Magic Box this morning. They’re having a problem with some demon that is attacking the models at fashion shows. Cordelia is hosting a show at the Hyperion this weekend to try and draw it out. She wants the three of us to come down and act as models!” All three girls looked at him expectantly.

“Yea?” Xander’s brow furrowed as he tried to decide what reaction they were looking for.

Suddenly, all three girls began to chatter at him again, talking about fashions, clothes that they needed to buy to do the show and what shoes would look best with each outfit. Xander began to doze as the noise continued around him.

*****

Xander woke to the sound of someone banging on the table in front of him. He opened his eyes to see startling blue eyes looking right back at him. “Oi! Whelp! Time to get up. Watcher wants us, remember?”

Spike wandered into the kitchen and Xander heard the sounds of the vampire rummaging around in the kitchen, preparing his evening snack.

“Where’d everybody go?” Xander smacked his sticky lips and tongue, trying to produce some moisture for his dry throat.

“Who? Oh! You mean the bints that spent the entire afternoon yakking non-stop out here, keeping me from getting my beauty sleep? They left about an hour ago, all nattering about shopping for shoes or some such crap.” Spike gulped down his blood, grimacing at the taste as he swallowed.

“Ghastly stuff.” He rinsed out his mug and laid it in the bottom of the sink. He was not in the least bit interested in another episode of ‘how to keep Anya happy by not leaving nasty mugs in the sink’. Demon girl had gone on for about forty-five minutes the last time she had found a blood-tinged cup.

“Ready to go, Harris?” Xander looked at Spike in exasperation.

“Do I look like I’m ready? I need a shower and something to eat. You go ahead and go, I’ll get there when I can.” Spike shook his head at his flatmate.

“Nope, Watcher wouldn’t let the girls use his mid-life-crisis-mobile to get to the mall, so Anya volunteered your car. You’ll have to ride with me.”

“Well, crap. Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower. Be back as soon as I can.” Xander stood and stretched, exposing a firm belly and a long line of dark hair that lead down into the front of his work pants.

Spike blinked and looked away, his mouth snapping shut as he spun. “Hurry up, Whelp. Don’t have time to wait for your slow arse.”

Xander flipped off the vampire and hurried into the shower.

Spike sat in the warm spot that Xander had just vacated, luxuriating in the leftover heat. He laid his head on the back of the couch and tired not to envision Xander in the shower, all wet and soapy. He growled softly as he imagined the difference in skin tone between Xander’s stomach and hips.

Xander stood under the necessarily cold water. He had caught the look on the vampire’s face when he stretched. Spike’s eyes had deepened to midnight blue and Xander could swear that the look in the dazzling eyes was lust, pure and simple.

“There is no way that Spike is lusting after me, now quit it.” He spoke to his cock as it continued to try to rise. “Why are you reacting to Spike anyway?” He roughly washed the rest of his body, willing away his erection before it really got going good, turning off the icy water and wrapping a towel around his slightly blue skin.

When Xander reappeared, dressed and ready to go, Spike handed him a sandwich before herding him towards the door. “They were expecting us twenty minutes ago, let’s go.”

Xander stared at the sandwich in his hands as he ran down the steps. “Spike, wha…”

Spike interrupted. “Forget it, Whelp. It wasn’t for you. I am the one that will be blamed when we’re late. Now get in and let’s go.”

Xander slid into the front seat of Spike’s beloved DeSoto, chewing thoughtfully on his sandwich, oblivious to the cleanliness of the car that surrounded him.

THE TRIANGLE 4