When Your Vampire Wakes Up Early

Xander stretched, yawned, and wound himself around his hot (well, cold, but he knew what he meant) vampire sex kitten.

Or tried.

It would have helped if previously mentioned vampire sex kitten was in the bed with him.

He wasn't.

"Spike?"

"Out here, pet. Time to get dressed." Spike wandered back into the bedroom, Xander's best (silk) shirt draped over one arm, and a pair of leather jeans that looked like they'd been borrowed from Angel were slung over his shoulder.

"Uh. Dressed for what?"

"Dressed. It's what one does of a morning."

"It's evening."

"Vampire, pet." Spike explained with great patience, laying the clothes carefully on the bed and lifting Xander bodily to his feet as if he weighed no more than a small child.

Still asleep enough to wonder if this was some kind of really freaky dream, Xander stared blearily at Spike's hands undoing the tie of his pajama pants. "What happened to lazy breakfasts in bed?"

"Got something to be doing this evening."

"Spike. I realize that we haven't been doing the horizontal mambo long enough for you to know all of my quirks, but I feel I should warn you that I am really bad at remembering girly dates, like monthly anniversaries of the first time we did each other's laundry."

The look Spike gave Xander was one of pure disgust. "Please. 'M a vampire. We don't do nancy things like that."

"So where are we going?"

"To have sex."

Xander wobbled as Spike picked up one leg, then the other, to pull the pajamas off of him, and almost toppled completely as Spike repeated the process putting on the Angelus Special leather trousers. "Spike, you just pulled me out of our nice comfortable bed. We could have sex here. Bed. Sex. Sex is what one does in bed."

"Nah. I'm in the mood for spontaneity."

"You plan for spontaneity?"

"Yeah. Otherwise, I get predictable."

"Spike, that made no sense," Xander paused to tip his head back so that Spike could adjust his collar, "at all," he finished, letting Spike tweak his clothing and dust him down. "Uh, Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"I can put my own shoes and socks on."

"Oh. Right, then. You go on, and I'll get our coats."

"Spike, what is all of this about? You know the routine. We wake up. We read the newspaper. We do something sexy or kinky or cuddly, and then we do it all over again. It's what we do while we're on vacation from saving the world."

"Right," Spike agreed.

"And huh?"

"Already did it, the reading," Spike said, and returned with the newspaper, neatly folded to an inner section and article with the headline: "Sex in a Bar Bathroom: Is it Legal?" He passed it to Xander, kissed his cheek, and steered him out of the room by his elbow. "I'll sum up. It's legal. Now come on. There's bars to be visited. Pints to be drunk. Semi-public sex to be had."

"Spike! This is about bars in Italy!"

"So we'll be at the forefront of the movement in England. Wherever it is, it's a bloody good idea. Now move your arse."