Yup. Between the sex and the sex (and the twin and the twin - literally between the twin and the twin on some happy occasions) everything was great in Xanderland.

Perfect, even.

Too perfect - cue sinister music - so Xander wasn't surprised when the alarm clock went off and all he could manage was a weak faceplant into his pillow.

I think we're alone now.
There doesn't seem to be anyone around.

It was too much energy to turn off the alarm clock. Even against the forces of bad Eighties pop.

I think we're alone now.

It was too much energy to remember which twin was on the left side of the bed so Xander could ask him to turn off the alarm clock.

The beating of our hearts is the only sound.

The alarm clock turned off.

Oh - good - because that song sucked the first time around and twenty years hadn't made it suck any less.

He'd thank William as soon as he had the energy to speak.

"Fuck this shit. Who let him choose the radio station?"

"It's his radio, Marion."

Okay, he'd thank Spike as soon as he had the energy to speak - unless Spike threw his clock radio across the room. Then he'd yell at Spike. Except yelling took energy and energy was something Xander so didn't have.

"He all right?" Spike propped himself up on an elbow and frowned down at a Xander who wasn't acting as Xanders ought to - who was face down in the pillow instead and still enough that he looked ready to suffocate. It was disturbing.

William slid a hand over Xander's cheek, slipped it between the pillow and Xander's forehead and frowned. "He's got a fever."

"Bloody hell - you shouldn't be cuddled up to him then - "

William swatted Spike's hands away and looped an arm defensively around Xander's torso. "I probably gave it to him. Git. Make yourself useful and fetch a damp flannel."

"Yes, mum," Spike answered even as he hurried to the bathroom.

"Cheeky little bugger," William muttered softly as he turned Xander's head to the side, brushed the hair off Xander's face and bent down to look him in the eyes.

Xander cracked an eye open and smiled weakly at William. "You're so cute when you're English."

"I'm always English," Will said.

Xander considered that. It seemed true, but then why had he said what he just said? And what had he just said again? And wasn't he supposed to be at work?

"What time is it?" Xander murmured. "Need to go to work."

"You're not going to work today, Xander."

"But I have to go to work today. Faith'll..." Xander tried to finish, but he couldn't remember what Faith would do either, though he thought that whatever it was probably wasn't good.

"You need to rest. I'll take care of Faith." Will's voice was firm and Xander liked that. Will would take care of him.

"Such a good boyfriend," Xander murmured.

"Here," said a voice behind his good boyfriend.

And then something cool was sweeping over his forehead and it felt so good. Xander relaxed against the pillow and savored the feeling. "I love you, Will."

"I'll just go call Faith then," said the voice from behind Will, which was Spike. Yes, Spike. Good Spike.

"Thanks, Spike," Xander whispered, but Spike had already left the room.

*Call Faith, Spike.* Xander thought dizzily as the pillow increased its gravity tenfold, sucking his thoughts into its polyfill depths, *Little Xander's fallen down the well*

When Xander's breath grew deep and even, William left him to sleep and wandered into the living room to find Spike already on the phone to Xander's workplace.

"The lad's got a touch of bubonic plague and can't come in to work today." Spike sprawled across the couch, phone cord winding 'round and 'round his finger. "That right? Bloody vomiting's a symptom? That's sodding disgusting. S'pose you're right. Can't be the bubonic plague without bloody vomit. Wouldn't be the same." Spike grunted as William huffed onto the couch, landed on top of him and snatched the phone away.

"He's got a fever and he's exhausted," he said into the receiver as he glared at Spike.

"Fever, huh? Well okay - last thing I need is the rest of the staff calling in sick with whatever he's got or him horking up cheeseburger chunks into the register."

William thanked Faith - both for understanding and for the lovely visual - and hung up, then rounded on Spike. "We would like for Xander to keep his job, remember? Food? Shelter? Heat? Do any of the aforementioned amenities have any meaning to you?"

"For fuck's sake, Will. Calm down. Faith knows I was just taking the piss."

"Yes, well what if she thinks Xander's skiving off?"

"She won't - "

"What if she sacks him?" William's breath was picking up, the words coming faster and faster. "What would we do? What would he do? What if he - ?"

"William!" Spike's hand came down on William's arm and squeezed, cutting short the panic. "Look at me. He's gonna be all right, yeah? Just tired is all. A little rest and he'll be good as new."

"But what if - ?"

"He's gonna be all right. Always taken care of you, haven't I? I'll take care of you both if I have to."

"How? How do you intend to take care of both of us? Do you think Xander would - would be happy living in abandoned buildings and snatching sleep under bridges again?"

"I'd take care of you here."

"I'd like to see how without a job. Or were you planning to go back to your old methods of getting money? If you're arrested now, you won't be tried as a juvenile. I can't lose you, Marion."

Spike listened in silence as Will's voice shook apart - held Will as he shook apart, petted his hair and held him close until William had cried himself out. "Won't ever lose me, luv. That's a promise and you know I always keep those. I'll take care of us. You'll see."

"Xander too."

"Said that already, didn't I?"

William sat in the bedroom and read as he watched Xander sleep. When Xander started to stir around two in the afternoon, William quickly set his book aside and knelt by the edge of the bed.

"Feeling any better?"

Xander turned his head and smiled at Will. "A little. I guess I was kinda tired."

William put his hand to Xander's forehead, seemed relatively pleased by what he felt. "Think you can eat a little something? Soup? A bit of toast?"

Xander nodded and William left the bedroom for the kitchen area, promising to be back before Xander knew he was gone.

"What're you doing?" Spike called from the couch, where he was pretending not to watch soaps.

"I'm fixing Xander lunch."

"Y'want me to help you with that?" Spike started to sit up on the couch but William waved him down.

"You don't have to. I can do this for Xander. I am the one who got him sick, after all."

"If you ask me, it's the snot-nosed sprogs at work bringing their sniffles and sneezes to the counter that's got him sick." Spike slid off the couch over William's objections and crouched before the cabinets, pulling out pot and toaster, standing and stretching for a can of soup.

William sighed, caught Spike's hands and held them. "Spike - you don't have to do this. You're missing Passions."

"Yeah, well - you can't cook."

"It's canned soup and toast." William turned Spike, marched him back to the couch and sat him down. "How can I go wrong?"

Spike slouched into the couch cushions and refrained from speculating. William went wrong.

"I'm afraid I can't cook," William told Xander as he carried the burnt soup with its side of burnt toast into the bedroom on a tray.

"It's soup and toast," Xander said. "I'm sure you did fine."

"Your confidence is sweet, but very misplaced. You don't have to eat it."

Xander downed a spoonful of soup without even flinching. "It's perfect."

Xander took several more spoonfuls, then started on a piece of toast. William picked up the spoon, dipped it in the bowl, brought it to his mouth and almost choked.

"Xander! This is awful. Why didn't you say anything? I forbid you to keep eating this."

Xander wrapped a protective arm around the bowl. "You would steal the soup from the very mouth of a sick man?"

"I was trying to heal you, not kill you. Let me have Spike make you something. He seems not to have inherited our mother's cooking gene."

Xander didn't release the bowl. "I want this. You made it for me and it's mine and you can't take it away."

Will smiled and shook his head and looked up to find Spike leaning against the doorframe, fingers fidgeting with the apartment keys. "Out of smokes." His eyes flickered from Will to Xander - who was braving another spoonful of soup with the expression of a man in heaven - to the carpet. "Goin' out."