I can hear him stomping up the stairs and I can't help but roll my eyes.   Must have been a hard night at work.   I chuckle a little at the thought of Spike having a job.   I mean what can a vampire really do?   Well for starters they make great bouncers.   Especially someone like Spike.   He may look compact, but, man, you better watch out when he pulls a right hook.   Not to mention the whole preternatural strength thing.   I think that's probably what got him the job in the first place.  

 

It had been about three months after he came back from Africa all re-souled.   At first I still hated him.   Gotta give him credit though, he tried the hardest with me and I know I didn't make it easy, at least not until the night his crypt burned down.   After that the male bonding just sort of slid into place.

 

He didn't have anywhere else to go so I let him stay here.   Soon after that he asked for a permanent invitation. He said he wanted to contribute and started prowling around for a job.   He took a big step and had Willy create an identity for him.   Birth certificate, driver's license, green card, whole nine yards.   Spike officially exists now, which, according to Giles, is a big step for a vampire.   Getting the job of a bouncer at the new and improved Bronze was a fluke.  

 

We were all there having a drink, giving Giles a third proper send off when all the sudden these two burly guys decide to have a rousing difference of opinion.   A glancing blow bounced off the back of Willow 's head, which sent Spike right into orbit.  

 

See, Spike sorta adopted Willow when she and Giles came back from England .   Making sure she stays on the straight and narrow, even lets her experiment on him every once in a while when she needs to try out a new facet of her power.  

 

In the blink of an eye both guys were on the ground at Spike's feet.   Needless to say the manger was impressed with how quickly and efficiently Spike took care of business and promptly offered him a job.   If vampires could blush I swear Spike would have.   He accepted the job and now he draws a paycheck like any nice normal respectable vamp.   Pays half the rent, half the utilities, half of everything, it's a great set-up really, except for the fact that I'm falling in love with him.  

 

It's not like I woke up one day said 'Gee, think I'll be gay today and fall in love with Spike.'   It's just the little things.   The way he leaves his hair in loose curls when he's just hanging around the house.   The way he buys Epson salt for me every time he goes to Wal-Mart because he knows the muscles in my arms and back ache every once in a while from work.   The way that, even after being up all night at work he comes home and cooks me breakfast so I don't just eat ‘bloody junk.'   It's the way he watches Dawn with this look in his eyes that speaks of total devotion.

 

It's the way he eats Buffalo wings.   The way he pulls his fingers into his mouth to savor the sauce; his eyes closed in pure ecstasy, a soft rumbling purr vibrating out from his chest.   The way his tongue curls around his teeth when he gets cocky.   The way he walks, the way he talks.   I guess it's just pretty much every thing and this is so not the train of thought to have when he's about to come through the door.

 

I settle myself back on the couch thinking non-Spike thoughts.   I hear his keys hit the table with an angry slam before he storms into the kitchen.   I hear the refrigerator open, then the microwave door, then the cap from a bottle of beer hits the counter.   I pull myself off the couch and head for the kitchen.

 

"Bad night?"

 

His back is to me as he faces the microwave waiting for his dinner to warm.   When he turns to me I stifle a gasp.

 

"What the hell happened to you?"

 

His left eye is turning yellow and trust me when I say this, yellow is a very bad color for a vampire.  

 

"You remember that bloke from last Saturday?"   At my nod he continues.   "Decided to come back for a little revenge.   Bloody pillock sucker punched me."

 

"You get him?"

 

"Yeah."

 

I feel a shiver of desire dance down my spine at the pure delight that shines in his eyes and across his face from that one softly whispered word.

 

"Good."

 

I walk to the freezer and take out a bag of frozen peas.   Standing in front of him I place it over his eye.

 

"You know it'll be gone tomorrow even without this?"

 

"Humor me."

 

The microwave dings and I move away from him to get his mug for him.   For the nine thousandth time, I thank God that when he got his soul back the chip was disabled.   He works as a bouncer at a human bar and it makes my knees weak to think that his black eye could have been a lot worse.  

 

I worry about the people there finding out he's a vamp.   People who live on the Hellmouth would know a much better way to take their revenge than a sucker punch.   I have to practically strap myself to the chair every night when he leaves.   I want to go with him, watch his back, like he's done with ours so many times.   I want to make sure he comes home in one piece.  

 

I notice my hands shaking as I reach for the mug.   God, what would I do without him?   We've never even gone into the vicinity of the realm of anything other than strictly buddies but I know it would kill me to lose him.   I shake myself out of my mood and hand him the mug of blood.   It's early Saturday morning and we both need to get to sleep.   The girls are coming over tonight for dinner and movies.  

 

"What time you want me to get you up later?"

 

"What am I cooking again?"

 

"Lasagna and for the twentieth time, no, you can't put blood in the sauce I don't care how much of an extra kick it gives it?"

 

I watch his eyes crinkle in a smile over the rim of the mug and my heart does this little flip like I'm on a roller coaster.  

 

"You lot are no bloody fun."

 

"You get your fun every night at work, bruiser.    Now what time, tired boy here."

 

"Six."

 

"K.   G’night."

 

At his softly whispered good night my stomach flips over again in desire.   I shut my door and lean against it willing my hard on to go away.   I've got to stop this.   I can't keep it hidden from him forever and I'm terrified of what he'll do if he finds out.   I'm not afraid of him physically, I know he'd never hurt me but I don't think I could stand to see the look of pity in his eyes.   I know I couldn't handle the 'you're a great guy Xander, but' speech.   Pushing those thoughts to the back of my head I crawl into bed and sink into sleep.

 

Fuck.   I had my chance and I let it go.   He was right there, right bloody there and what did I do?   Not a thing that's what.   And just why didn't I?   Because I've turned into my ponce of a Sire, that's why.   Too much thinking and not enough acting.   A year ago I would have just grabbed him, pinned him against the wall and kissed him until he didn't know his own name.   But now, now I worry about his reaction, I worry that he won't want me here anymore and I can't bear to think about my unlife without him.  

 

‘Sides that, I like it here.   Best thing that ever happened was the crypt burning to the ground.   'Course the best thing about here is Xander.   When I first came back I knew I had the biggest hurdle with him.   I knew Dawn would be the easiest, and Buffy right behind her.   All I really had to do was flash my tortured eyes at her and she forgave me almost instantly.   It's not that I wasn't sorry, I was, just glad that it was all over.   Learned my lesson, I did.   Spent the three months I was away examining every thing I had done in the past three years.   Realized that I did love her, but it really was a fucked up mess.   She's got no business with me and I've not business with her.   Finally just let it go, let it die like I should have done in the beginning.

 

But Xander, I can't stay away from.   Can't stop thinking about him.   Bloody dreaming about him every day.   The way his whole face lights up when he smiles.   They way his body moves when he's working.   The way his tongue peeks out of his mouth when he concentrates really hard.   I don't think I've ever wanted anyone as much as I want him.   The ache of needing to feel him against me turns me inside out.   It's a dangerous train of thought, that, falling for the boy.   Tried so hard not to.   Convinced myself I was just lonely, just needed someone to want me.

 

Even went so far as to accept an invitation from a dark haired beauty one night after work.   When I yelled Xander's name as I came I knew I was lost.   Not to mention quickly kicked out bed.   Bad manners that, calling someone else's name in bed.   I didn't go home until almost sunrise that morning.   Spent the whole night walking around town analyzing what I was feeling.   Realized it wasn't transference or convenience.   It was him I wanted, him I needed.  

 

I sigh knowing it's a lost cause.   I don't think I've ever met a more heterosexual person in my entire existence.   He doesn't want me.   Someone to talk to that doesn't have breasts, yeah.   But anything more than that is out of the question.   It damn near kills me to watch him flirt with the girls he meets on the occasional nights he comes to work with me.   The ten thousand watt smiles he gives them.   The way his hands will reach out and settle against their backs as he dances with them.

 

I want him to hold me like that.   I shake my head at what a sap I've become.   Rinsing out my mug I place it in the sink and shut off the lights.   I stop outside his bedroom door and listen to the sounds of him sleep.   My hand falls to the doorknob.   Just a little peek before I go to bed.  

 

I open his door noiselessly and lean against the doorframe watching him.   Fuck, he's beautiful.   Lying on his back, one arm across his chest, the other above his head.   He shifts and for a second I'm frozen in place thinking that he woke up and saw me.   I listen closely to the sound of his heart.   No change in the rhythm so I know he's not awake.    I hear a soft moan leave his lips and the sound travels though my body straight to my cock.   He kicks off the covers and the smell of his arousal hits me.

 

I bite my tongue to keep from moaning out loud as the smell of him surrounds me.   I wonder which one he's dreaming about.   Desperately trying to squash the sizzle of disappointment that settles over me.   God, how I want it to be me.   I watch his hips shift restlessly against the bed.   He moans again, louder this time and my cock swells to painful hardness.

 

I need to leave before I lose my resolve not to touch him.   Through his eyelids I see his eyes shift back and forth in REM sleep.   His hiss of pleasure brings my attention back to his lower body.   His hips are sliding to and fro faster now.   I can see how hard he is through the thin material of his sweat pants and I lick my lips desperately wanting to be able to taste him.

 

Watching through heavy lidded eyes I see his back arch, see his body go rigid seconds before his orgasm takes him and he falls bonelessly back onto the bed still sound asleep.

 

With an inaudible sigh I back out the door closing it softly behind me.   Time for a shower and little private time with my hand.

I watch him for just a second before flipping on the light and speaking.   I woke up earlier with the remnants of my dreams dried to my body.   Same dream almost every night.   Sometimes it's less vivid and other times, like last night, it's in Technicolor.   Always starring Spike; Spike's hands, Spike's mouth, Spike inside of me, my name on his lips when he comes.   I repress a shiver of longing and start trying to wake him up.

 

"Get up curly, it's six o'clock ."

 

"G'way."

 

"Nope.   You promised lasagna."

 

"Order it from Tillio's.   It's better than mine anyway."

 

I can barely make out what he's saying.   He's on his stomach with his arms under the pillow his head is currently trying to dig into it to shut out my voice and the light.   With a grin I reach down and take the corner of his comforter in my hand.

 

"You leave me no choice.   Just remember, this hurts me as much as it hurts you."

 

In a flash he's sitting up eyeing me with trepidation.   Ohhh, Giles word, he'd be proud.

 

"So help me by all that's unholy if you come at me with that water gun again I'll tie you to the tree outside, pour honey over you and let the ants eat you."

 

Somewhere in there he lost me.   I think it was the pouring honey part.   Because all I can think of right now is my naked body covered in honey with a naked Spike licking it off.   Shaking off the fantasy I realize he's talking to me.

 

"...on high."

 

"Huh?"

 

"I said fill the six quart pot three quarters full of water and put it on high."

 

"Hey, not the chef tonight."

 

"Just until I get dressed."

 

"Oh."

 

Again, with the naked Spike thoughts.   Before I embarrass myself any further, I pull the door closed behind me, and head for the kitchen.   Putting the pot in the sink and turning on the tap I let it start to fill with water.   I'm trying really hard not to think about the fact that Spike is naked.   I'm failing.   My mind wanders back to the dream.  

 

Back to the sight of him crawling up my body laying nipping kisses along my thighs and stomach before settling his body along mine.   The press of his cock against mine as his tongue slides along my chest and latches tightly onto one of my nipples.   The bright blue of his eyes turning to a deep midnight blue as he looks up at me with need and love shining brightly.

 

"I think it's full."

 

I jump at the sound of his voice.   Fuck, busted.   I realize that the pot was probably full several minutes ago and I'm standing here staring off into space letting water run all over the place.   I quickly shut off the water and search my mind for an excuse.

 

"Sorry, I zoned.   We just got the contract on that new strip mall going in at the edge of town and I'm trying to hash out some logistics."

 

Not a bad save, not completely lame.   I carry the pot to the stove and turn on the burner.   He's rummaging around in the refrigerator pulling out ingredients.

 

"Xander, where's the cottage cheese?"

 

Uh oh.   His eyes turn accusingly to me.   Well he should have known better.   But shit, now I'm going to have to go to the store.

 

"I'm going, I'm going."

 

I grab my keys and run out the door.   Ten minutes later I'm back and the girls are already here.   I never thought there would be a day when Anya and I could be in the same room and not have a scene, but once again I'm amazed at how well we've conquered the friends thing.   She's forgiven me and I've groveled.   Way groveled.

 

I can hear Spike and Buffy in the kitchen arguing over which way to layer the lasagna.   There's a way?   Guess that's why Spike does most of the cooking.   I hear her voice coming closer knowing that Spike probably just kicked her out of the kitchen.

 

"Fine.   When we have soupy lasagna, don't expect me not to say I told you so."

 

I set the containers of cottage cheese on the counter next to Spike.

 

"'Bout bloody time.   Keep her out of the kitchen will ya."

 

"Sure."

 

I settle on the couch next to Buffy.  

 

"So, Buff, how'd the date go last night?"

 

"Don't ask.   I learned more about cleaning fish than I ever wanted to know."

 

"Okay and ewwww."

 

"I didn't think I'd ever wish for the days when Giles would go into very vivid detail about how to kill a Sh'lockt demon, but last night, was definitely one of those nights."

 

"I hate to say this, but that's what you get when you date a guy from Illinois ."

 

"Yeah, that and a whole dissertation on the fact that the S at the end is silent."

 

She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.   It's good to see her happy.   It took a long time.   It's good to see her and Willow interact without the weirdness.   There was so much tension when Willow first came back.   A lot of issues came crawling out of the woodwork.   But I'm proud of how well they dealt with them together.   I watch Willow get up and walk into the kitchen.

 

I have to stifle the small bolt of jealously that hums through my body.   The closeness between Willow and Spike sometimes rubs me the wrong way.   It's not that I don't trust him and it's not like I think that they will ever be anything other than friends, but the way he is with her, constantly hugging her, touching her hair, her face.   I want those hands on me.

 

They share a bond.   His small touches are a reassurance to her that he understands and accepts.   He understands the call of the dark that she has to suppress.   He understands the way none of the rest of us ever will.   Those touches, they, let her know that he would be there for her if she ever needed him.  

 

Sometimes I'm amazed at the changes in him.   He's not like Angel was with his soul.   Spike regrets and he's sorry, but he doesn't let it torture him.   He accepts what he was.   He lives with the demon and the soul, neither one vying for the top spot.   The demon gets his fun at the Bronze and the soul gets to show us William.

 

I turn my attention back to what Buffy was saying nodding my head in agreement.   I hope I didn't just agree to be marshmallow man for her again.

 

"You want something to drink?"

 

She nods her head as she reaches for the remote.   I pat Dawn on the head as I pass her.   Her and Anya are in a debate on the Decline of Western Civilization.   Dawn has taken an interest in history this semester and who better to learn from than a twelve hundred year old vengeance demon and a one hundred and thirty year old vampire.  

 

I hear Spike's silky voice before I enter the kitchen and I stop dead just around the corner from the door.

 

"Yeah...right there.   Mmm, that's good, Red."

 

He wouldn't.   Not here, not with Willow .   Please God, please no.   I hear his soft moan of pleasure and I can't help the rage that runs through me.   How dare he, how dare she.   As I turn the corner I stop again when Willow speaks.

 

"Spike, you have to be careful when you start throwing people over your shoulder."

 

I let my eyes take in the scene. Spike is sitting in one of the chairs while Willow stands behind him rubbing his left shoulder.   Her face is a mask of pure innocent concentration.   I feel like an idiot. He's sore from last night and she's just rubbing the knot out of his shoulder.   Willow sees me and her face lights up with a smile.   No secretly masked desire, no nervous energy, just Willow , being herself.

 

"Hey, Xander."

 

"Hey, Wills."

 

Spike opens his eyes and looks at me.   Nothing there either but a lazy relaxed smile. No ulterior motives, just enjoying a friendly helping hand.

 

Willow turns her attention back to Spike.

 

"I think I got it, how's it feel?"

 

Spike raises his arm and rotates it several times before smiling and rising from the table.

 

Dropping a quick kiss on her check, he thanks her.

 

Grabbing a soda for Buffy I grab Willow 's hand and lead her back to the living room.

 

"C'mon Will, I think the chef wants to be alone with his noodles."

 

I hear Spike snort behind me and I smile as we leave the kitchen.

Somehow I ended up sandwiched between Xander and Dawn on the couch when we settled down to watch movies.   I know they told me the name of this movie but I don't think I've seen more than ten minutes of it.  

 

All I can think about is Xander's thigh pressed tight against mine.   The heat coming off his body in waves has warmed the entire right side of my body and I'm swimming in a cloud of need so thick I'm afraid to move.   I'm afraid if I move I'll drag him to the bedroom, tie him down, strip him naked and taste every inch of that hot human warmth.

 

He reaches across me for the popcorn that Dawn has and my whole body tenses.   The smell of him fills my head and it's all I can do to stop the moan building in my chest.   I can't take it.   In an instant I'm off the couch and storming into the kitchen.

 

"What's up with him?"

 

I hear Buffy's voice from the living room and I want to scream 'my dick, that's what.'

 

I grab the edge of the counter and bite the inside of my lip to calm myself.   I feel a soft hand on my shoulder and I know its Willow .  

 

"Spike, are you okay?"

 

I want to tell her.   I want to open my mouth and pour out my heart.   I'm in love with her best friend and I want him so much it's killing me.   I turn my head to face her and tell her I'm fine but she sees it.

 

Her eyes widen and I see a small smile play around the corners of her mouth.   I see the understanding and acceptance in her eyes and before I can stop it, it all comes rushing out.

 

"I want him so much, Red.   He's all I think about, all I bloody dream about."

 

"You have to tell him."

 

"Are you daft?   I can't tell him.   He doesn't want me and I can't live without him.   I'd lose him if I told him.   It just gets to be too much sometimes.   Being around him all the time, knowing he's right there, close enough to touch.   Tell me how to make it stop."

 

"I wish I could, but it doesn't stop.   How do you know he doesn't want you?"

 

I can't help the snort that escapes me.

 

"Have you ever seen him show interest in anything that doesn't have breasts?"

 

She wants to say yes but she can't.   She opens her mouth when Xander enters the room.   I feel my body tense again.   I look to Willow for support but she's already out of her chair and out the door.   Just like a bloody woman, desert you in your time of need.

 

"You okay.   Your shoulder bothering you again?"

 

I see the concern in his eyes and I close my eyes against it.   I want to see so much more there.   I feel his hands on my shoulder and I realize he must have taken my silence for a yes.

 

I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.   He's standing close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my neck when he speaks.

 

"Tell me where, I might be able to help, my hands are stronger than Willows."

 

I know I shouldn't answer him.   I know what my voice will sound like if I do, but I want his hands on me.  

 

"Lower."

 

"Here?"

 

His voice is soft and rough and just for a second I let myself believe it's because I affect him the same way he affects me.   I nod my head and I feel his fingers dig into my flesh in hard sweeping circles.   I can't stop the moan or the words.

 

"God, Xander, don't stop, feels good."

 

His hands pause for a brief second and I realize I've blown it all to hell.   I feel his hands start to move again and that's when the pheromones hit me. The smell of his arousal washes over me and I turn suddenly, my eyes meeting his.   I stare in fascination at the glazed look of desire in his eyes.

 

His hands drop to his sides and he swallows convulsively.

 

I watch the blush crawl up his neck to warm his checks.   He realizes that I've smelled it.   That I know he wants me and he thinks I don't want him in return.   He thinks he's about to be rejected.   He couldn't be farther from the truth.   I open my mouth to tell him but suddenly Dawn appears in the doorway.

 

"Xander?"

 

His head snaps toward the sound of her voice, a nervous laugh spilling out of him.

 

"Yeah."

 

His voice is strained and I let the sound roll around in my head and I can't stop the smile.   He's dazed and hot and needy and it's because he wants me.  

 

"Buffy and Anya want another soda."

 

"Okay."

 

With automatic movements I watch him grab two cans out of the refrigerator and follow Dawn out the door.

 

Willow 's back in an instant.

 

"I'm sorry, I tried to get them to wait."

 

I grin at her and shake my head.

 

"'S'not a problem."

 

"Did you...did he...did you two."

 

"No, but I don't think I'm alone in this."

 

Her hands clasp together in front of her and I can tell she wants to squeal.

 

I nod my head toward the door and we exit.   I was never the planner.   Angelus, he was he planner, but suddenly I find myself in possession of a bloody brilliant plan.   Seduce Xander Harris.