Xander's back was cold.

His hands were also cold.

It wasn't nice to a man recovering from exhausted collapse to leave his back cold. It was bad nursing - or something.

Yes, it was.

His front was not cold because it was pressed up against William's back, which was toasty warm.

But there was an awful lot of free room in the bed and a lack of wandering hands.

And how long could Spike spend in the bathroom?

*Get back in here, you vain jerk. My back is cold.*

But Xander was fast asleep again by the time the front door snicked open, so he didn't hear it.

And he didn't feel Spike crawl into the far side of the bed.

William did.

"Where have you been?" William didn't move from Xander's hold, eyes heavy with sleep. But he reached out for Spike's fingers, warmed cold flesh with warm. "You're frozen."

"Went out, didn't I? The boy needed his sleep. Been working too hard."

In the gloom of filtered street light, William saw Spike looking away, fumbling a wad of cash out of his coat pocket and stuffing it into his jeans. He didn't say anything. "Well get undressed and get in here before you catch your death too."

Xander's front was cold.

Damn William and his morning-person tendencies.

But Xander could smell the coffee brewing and knew it would be waiting for him when he got out to the kitchenette and that was a nice feeling. He could picture William there, reading his latest novel, maybe penning something in the poetry journal Xander had surprised him with the other week. The image made him smile.

Still, even though he was picking up an extra half shift that evening, it was technically his 'weekend' and that was supposed to mean sleeping in and late morning cuddles.

Damn it, he wanted his late morning cuddles.

And though Spike was at his back, Spike hadn't come home until six in the morning, so Spike was dead to the world and no good on the cuddling front. In fact, Spike hadn't been much good on the cuddling front for over a week now and it worried Xander, but damned if he knew how to deal with it.

He and Spike didn't do the whole 'let's talk about your feelings' thing. They did the drinking thing and the banter thing and the crazy hot sex thing - at least when he actually saw Spike awake they did - but they did not do the 'how was your day, honey?' thing.

Xander sighed, decided he and Spike should hit the bar that night, and padded barefoot out to the kitchen.

William looked up from his book and smiled, reached out to pour a cup of coffee. "Morning, Xander."

Xander loved the sound of his name in William's voice. Turned him to goo every time, but still...

"Wanted morning cuddles." Xander pouted.

William smiled - another goo-making trick. "No time. We must do laundry today."

"Must we?" Xander teased in his awful imitation accent.

William shot a meaningful glance toward two very full laundry bags sitting next to the door. Xander followed William's eyes and made a face, took a drink of coffee, sighed.

"I'll get dressed."

Actually, the laundromat was fun when he went with William. Xander didn't have to worry about getting hit on because William wasn't ever not touching him. They were cuter - or more nauseating - than Young Married Couple had ever been. The soap opera troika were greatly entertained. Xander could have sworn he overheard one of them wishing he and Will would 'show some more skin.' He could have sworn William had actually hiked up Xander's tee shirt a bit in response.

Spike was in the shower when they got back to the apartment and Xander had to run to work. Still, he whistled a happy tune as he wiped down tables at the end of the shift, eager to go out with Spike that night.

But halfway up the stairs to the apartment, Xander ran into Spike, who was on his way down.

"Spike, hey."

"Hey, luv."

"Where are you - ?" Xander started, but Spike cut him off with a kiss.

"Out," Spike said, when they broke apart. "Don't wait up."

And in a swish of black leather, Spike was gone.

And with him, Xander's evening plans. "Hey honey, I'm home," he said, sweeping through the door less like Ricky Ricardo and more like that guy on the Vampire Slaying show who always had another crappy job after getting fired from the crappy job he had the week before. Boy was Xander glad that at least he didn't get fired from his crappy job.

Why was that a good thing again?

Oh yeah - because it meant having a home to come home to and a warm William in that home. A warm William who filled Xander's arms and peppered his face with kisses and drew him over to the couch and didn't complain if Xander slept through Charmed on Sundays but watched Smallville every Wednesday no matter where William's warm hands roamed -

It only made William get really creative with what he could accomplish during a commercial break.

So maybe Xander didn't need to go out to the bar - but the couch was colder with two instead of three.

"Marion Kendall Datchery..."

"Oi!" Spike said as he stepped into the apartment and closed the door. "Now luv, there's no need - "

"Don't 'luv' me. And there's every need. It's two o'clock. In the afternoon. Where the bloody hell have you been?"

"Crashed at Angel's, didn't I?"

"Did you? Lovely. And here I was thinking you might be - oh, I don't know - dead."

"Don't be dramatic."

"Don't be glib! You scared me, Marion."

"I'm sorry, pet." Spike stepped forward to wrap his arms around William, but William didn't melt into the embrace.

"Don't be sorry. Be here."

"I am here, luv." Spike reached up and stroked William's hair, but William didn't yield.

"No. You're not."

"Will..."

"Why?"

Spike dropped his arms. He shed his duster and wandered to the couch. He grabbed the remote with a shrug and turned on the television. "'M not a house cat like you, am I?"

William stood in front of Spike, blocking his view of the television and snatched the remote from his hand. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means - bloody hell, William." Spike dropped his head onto the back of the couch. He tugged at William until he gave in and curled up onto Spike's lap, tucked his head onto his shoulder. "It means I'm not like you - can't - can't live this life of domestic bliss and be happy."

William froze. "You can't leave us."

"'M not leaving. Exactly. Still a cat, see. I'm your twin - gotta be a cat. But I'm an outdoor cat. Always come back, right?"

William frowned. "What about Xander?"

Spike shrugged. "What about 'im? Boy's a bloody Viking in the sack, but he's not my soddin' boyfriend, yeah? We're mates. We shag. No reason that's gotta change."

Except that it did.

"I thought we were friends," Xander said suddenly. He and Will were curled up in front of the TV.

"He says you are."

"Friends don't avoid each other."

"He says he isn't."

"Right. He's not avoiding me. He just never comes home at night and only visits you in the afternoons when I'm at work. But he's obviously not avoiding me."

"I didn't say I believed him. I don't like this any more than you do, but he won't talk to me. He just keeps saying he's - "

"An outdoor cat. Yeah, I got that." Xander sighed. "And where does a cat get all that cash?"

William shook his head. "He won't tell me that either. He always said I was better off not knowing. I suppose I agreed."

"But you must have known."

"More or less. He used to win money street fighting. With Angel, I assume."

"They fought against each other?"

"I think they were partners."

And suddenly that night when Angel came to the apartment was starting to make sense.

"So do you think he's - "

"No. He doesn't have the bruises." William looked down, played with their joined fingers. "I don't know what he's doing now, and he's not going to tell me until he feels like it. Cats are like that."

William tucked his head down onto Xander's shoulder before Xander could see the trembling of his lip or the way Will bit it to keep it still. William's hair smelled a little like smoke and leather, a little like Spike.

"He'll come home. He always does."

And Xander realized he'd have to take William's word for it. William's word for all of it. Because the couch was colder than it was supposed to be.

"I miss him," Xander said, though he hadn't meant to.