William got only as far as the first alley before hands stronger than his grabbed him and pinned him up against a grimy wall, the waft of grease and bacon blown out of the bag on impact making him nauseous enough to turn his head away.

"Good morning to you too, Spike," William choked out. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Spike batted the bag out of William's hand and it fell to the ground.

"You idiot. That's perfectly good food."

Spike ignored the comment, tightening his fists in William's coat and moving in closer so their faces were just inches apart and William was pressing himself back into the wall, just to get a sliver of breathing room.

"What's his name?" Spike asked.

"I - I don't-"

"Yes, you do. Now tell me his name, Will."

"X - Xander."

"Xander? What kind of bloody stupid name is that?"

"It happens to be short for Alexander. And you're hardly one to talk, Spike."

"Watch yourself, Will." Spike opened his fists, releasing the material of William's coat, but didn't back off an inch. His voice turned soft and sickeningly sweet. "So, this Xander, he gives you food..."

"S - sometimes..."

"How precious. And tell me, Will, what do you do for him in return?"

"Nothing." William gave Spike a look of pure loathing and crouched to retrieve the food, thankful at least that none of the wrapped goods had spilled out onto the filthy alley ground.

Because they'd be eating them regardless.

"You know I don't do that," he added more quietly.

"You implyin' that I do?"

"It certainly seems to cross your mind often enough!" William clutched the crumpled bag's top in one fist as he stood. "You leave Xander alone."

"I think I'd rather you leave Xander alone."

"Stop it, Spike!" William planted a hand in the center of Spike's chest and shoved, sending him staggering back a startled few steps. "Just stop it. Why can't I have friends?"

"I - because he doesn't want to be your friend! He only wants your arse."

William's slap echoed in the alley and Spike stared at him, too shocked to settle on a facial expression, one hand going up to touch the stinging hand print on his cheek.

"Sorry," Spike muttered, finally, holding out a hand for the bag, which William easily let him take this time before turning Spike's face to the light to examine the damage.

"Bloody right you're sorry. Jealous bastard." William's fingers slipped to Spike's neck, and he rested their foreheads together, rubbing his thumb along Spike's jaw. "If you're so worried about him, why don't you just - meet him?"

"That'd be one way to scare him off you good and proper." William gave Spike a little shake until he chuckled. "All right. Fine."

"Good. And you might find him more difficult to frighten off than you expect."

The expression on Spike's face said they'd see about that.

They went to the park, where Spike ate and William nibbled some more as he jotted some poetry. They stayed until sunset and watched the people who passed and Spike made snarky comments under his breath and William laughed and laughed and it was so good. And yeah, William knew his twin well enough to recognize that spending the day with him was just Spike's way to ensure that he didn't spend the day with anyone else, but being the recipient of Spike's full attention was always a heady experience and William gave himself over to it completely.

After dark, they returned to the warehouse and played cards for a bit. Barely eight p.m. and William was tired - always so very tired lately - so Spike suffered (almost) silently through the reading of more Dracula until William drifted off to sleep.

At the sound of William's pained but even breathing, Spike closed the book, stood up and slipped into his duster. On his way out of the warehouse, he lit a cigarette, took a drag and released the smoke with a curl of his tongue and smile that was positively demonic. After all, he'd promised William he'd meet a certain burger-flipper.

And Spike always kept his promises.

Faith had kept her promise to work Xander into a Xander-shaped, french fry-scented puddle of goop, and Anya the night manager had so thoroughly upheld Faith's standards through the second half of his shift that Faith was probably having orgasms to the thought as it crossed Xander's mind.

Xander paused in wiping down the tables.

Okay, so not a bad image. Because hello, gay not blind.

Wiping the rest of the tables went much more quickly, and soon, Xander was trading the dirty rag for his jacket, punching his card, and getting the hell out of Dodge. At least until Friday.

And who the hell had their "weekend" on Wednesday and Thursday except him?

Xander scrubbed a hand through the greasy lank mess that passed for his hair and sniffed it.

Okay, so the new plan was to spend Wednesday and Thursday in the bath tub with a gallon jug of cheap shampoo until he smelled a little less like the Hamburglar. You know, in case a certain someone reappeared on Friday and maybe, just maybe, wanted to get close enough to smell him.

Head filled with thoughts of that certain someone, Xander was a bit startled when he encountered the dark figure skulking in the shadows outside the back entrance. Okay, so he almost jumped out of his fucking skin when he caught a glimpse of the glowing red tip of a cigarette and the body behind it, but, in his defense, if ever there was body language that screamed menace, this guy had it, could probably bottle the stuff and make a killing among the wanna-be bouncers and body guards and assistant principals of the world.

Xander considered turning right around, going back inside and getting Anya to walk him out - because there was a girl that could be damn scary when crossed - but decided the guy probably wanted nothing to do with him anyway. Except that when Xander started away from the door, the guy pushed away from the wall and followed him a few steps and *Just keep walking. Don't turn around* Xander repeated to himself, trying to remain calm, but then there was a voice saying:

"Xander."

A voice with a British accent.

Xander turned and looked into familiar blue eyes and let out the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders dropping in relief.

"Jesus Christ, Will. You scared the fuck out of me. What're you doing here?" Xander looked Will up and down and then met his eyes again. "And what's with the smoking and the leather and are you wearing eyeliner? Not that's it's a bad look. I mean, actually, it's kinda hot. And I had no idea before this that punk, you know, did it for me, but I guess you learn something new every day, huh? Because wow. You look... wow. Not that you don't normally look... because, I mean... But this is just really... unexpected..."

And then Xander stopped talking. Because Will wasn't answering or smiling shyly or even looking down at the ground in quiet embarrassment. He was staring, just staring straight at Xander with something that looked and felt a lot like contempt.

Xander shivered.

"Wow is it, pet?" The Englishman took a last drag from his cigarette and dropped it, crushing the glowing cherry under one booted foot, then prowling toward Xander. This time, his head was down, but there was nothing shy in the expression. Blue eyes had fixed on Xander with a predatory gleam that had his back hitting the wall before Xander even realized he was backing away. "Like what you see, do you?"

"Will, um, not that - you know, I don't really appreciate you getting into the spirit of things but-"

Whatever Xander had planned to say was swallowed up in a hard clash of lips that tasted of smoke and salt, and the scent of leather as strong arms bracketed Xander's head, slim body pushed against him in a way that made Little Xander sit up and give his resounding approval to the proceedings.

"But?" Will asked, in a voice a lot sexier and dirtier than William's typical cultured tones and Xander's arms were reaching out to clasp Will against him under the warmth of the heat vent, one hard thigh between his own, and a pair of well-kissed lips close enough that he could feel Will's breath.

"Are - are you okay, Will? It's just so... sudden."

"Me? I'm just peachy," Will said, bumping Xander's jaw upward and nibbling down his neck hard enough to make Xander grunt and thrust up against him again. And Xander found his hand dropping down onto Will's ass with a squeeze that felt like a big jump from shy kisses. "Just one thing," Will added, blowing on Xander's neck, and making him shiver.

"Wh-what's that?"

Will kissed him once more, hard and fast, fingers tangled in his hair. "The name's Spike."

Xander jerked away, hitting the wall hard, and staring. "Spike?"

Strong hands that didn't shake let him go, then disappeared into that leather coat to pull out a lighter and cigarette. Spike lit the cigarette and took a long, slow drag. Xander tried not to flinch as Spike blew the smoke out into his face.

"Oh, and another thing - I want you to stay away from my brother."

"Your brother?"

Spike just stood there smirking and smoking until Xander got it, really got it, painful understanding sweeping over his face. Then, with a swish of leather, Spike disappeared into the night. Xander turned to face the wall and let his head fall against it, hard.

"Oh, fuck."