Ask Xander where he expected to be at the end of the world.

There was a time when he would have said 'at school' and 'hopefully in trig'.

That time came before the time when he'd have answered 'on the end of Spike's cock' and asked if the apocalypse could wait at least until he came?

And hey that still sounded good. Don't get him wrong.

There was also a time far back in the halcyon paste-eating days of kindergarten when he would have said 'with Willow' - no hesitation. Rock solid certainty.

Funny how everything he needed to know he did know in kindergarten.

Might've helped if he'd known in kindergarten about the being dead thing too.

The heart monitor beep was getting on his nerves. He wanted to hear Willow's heart, not the beep beep beep that made him want to rip it out of the wall and chuck it into the hall.

He didn't need it to know her heart was still beating.

And his wasn't.

Not that having a non-beating heart bothered him. He was pretty far past the whole 'bothered' stage of being dead.

Spike was gonna kill him when he got back.

That kinda bothered him.

Because not only did Xander not get the books Spike wanted, he had not stopped Drusilla from getting them - and now he was outing himself to one of the Slayer's nearest and dearest.

Thinking?

Wasn't Xander's strong point.

So when Willow'd seen him lurking behind the book cases in the library half a second before the book cases fell on them, he'd done the least thinky thing, picked her up and ran.

Then he'd...dodged his friends.

It was so wrong that the shaky fear and anger in Buffy's voice still made him want to hug her and comfort her and tell her it'd all get better.

Of course then he wanted to sink his fangs into her carotid artery and feed until he popped but that was a Slayer-Vampire thing. He could accept that.

The doctor said it was head trauma. She can wake up at any time but the longer it lasts, the less likely it is. That was Oz.

I never should've let her try to do that curse. Angel must've known. And that had been Buffy.

Curse?

Xander looked down at the thin hand he held, ran his thumb over fine bones under skin that was still paler than his.

At least he didn't have to dodge her family - though he doubted they'd notice anything out of the ordinary. He was barely on Mrs. Rosenberg's radar as a human being. She'd probably just tell him he needed a hair cut.

Or a dental checkup.

Or an appointment with his optometrist and maybe a dermatologist to see about those bumps.

And did he have hepatitis?

"Come on, Wills. So maybe I don't need you to help me pass trig anymore - but you've gotta wake up. You want me to face the apocalypse alone?" Alone - with Spike. But Spike was out making his part of the plan happen the way Xander wasn't. Not that Xander could make his part of the plan happen now if he wanted to. The barn door was open and the horses were gone.

And wasn't there a law against city boys using farm metaphors or something?

Or something.

Xander lowered his forehead to the back of Willow's (warm) hand, rolled his head side to side. Under the medicinal hospital scent she smelled so good. Sweet and pepper and a lingering gunpowder and tea scent that made his hair stand up on end and his teeth itch.

Magic.

"Look - I know I've been a pretty crappy friend lately. Being dead'll do that. But there's dead - and there's dead and god - do I get to still say that? God? Not that I care - you know - or anything." Xander sat up, rubbed the pad of his thumb over a hang nail. Willow had been chewing her thumbnail - which meant lots of research. Research and worry.

Xander didn't feel guilty - but he didn't like the thought of Willow dead - dead for good.

"You can't die. You made living not completely suck."

And again with the backhanded compliments. Was that the best he could do?

"And - okay I know you might not believe this - I know you might not want to believe this anymore but I love you. I wanted you to know - I guess. Dying didn't make it go away." He leaned his forehead against cool knuckles again.

Knuckles...that twitched.

Relief and fear collided violently in Xander's chest - made him feel like his heart might start beating again. He slowly lifted his head from two fingers that had slipped to his inner wrist where the pulse wasn't, and met glazed hazel eyes. "Are you gonna...drink my blood now?"

Willow sounded tired. Dazed like she had when she'd been out of school with the flu for a week in third grade.

Xander shook his head, felt the wall come up between them slow and solid as ice and left their joined hands the only possible contact. He felt Willow's fingers tighten and squeeze weakly. "Am - am I not good enough to drink? Do I smell bad?"

Third grade.

So small and pale in the bed.

So young-sounding.

Xander bit his lip. "You smell great - not that I'm smelling deliberately you know but - you know," he concluded lamely with a gesture at his nose. The nose that could smell all of the things Willow hadn't done and okay not dead enough to start thinking those thoughts about Willow.

And - he thought he might be kinda gay.

"Xander?"

Xander's head snapped up so fast he would have dislocated something if he'd been human and he fought down the demon wanting to emerge - wanting to take and drink and - okay both he and the demon wanted to get the fuck out of there. "Uh. Hi Cordy."

"God. Can you be any more insensitive? Where've you been while the rest of us have been trying to save Sunnydale from a big evil soulless vampire?"

"I've - I - I gotta go." Xander felt Willow's fingers tighten on him - try to hold on. He heard Oz's voice in the corridor and panicked - jerked free and ran.

"Ew and to think I used to date him!"

Spike found Xander huddled into a corner of the basement, arms wrapped around his knees and shuddering. "None of that now, pet. We've got work to do before break of day."

"Spike!"

Before Spike could reach for Xander, he found himself with both arms full of squirming breathing Xander. The comfort instinct came without thought and Spike stroked his hair, murmured wordless reassurances and rocked them back and forth. "What happened to you then?"

"I didn't get the books."

"Don't worry about the bloody books, luv. Got everything taken care of, me." Spike slipped his fingers into Xander's hair and tugged until Xander looked at him. "Made a deal with the Slayer, didn't I? She's gonna help us take Angelus down. Give me Dru back." Spike tightened his grip, wouldn't let Xander look away. "None of that now pet. Not lettin' you go, am I? We're gonna be a little family, you, me an' Dru. Like we ought to be."

Xander pushed into stroking fingers, pushed into strong muscle and sturdy bone. "Why didn't Buffy stake you?"

"Cause I've got something she wants. 'Least I will." Spike shifted his grip, freed a hand to withdraw a cigarette and his lighter, lit up and drew the smoke deep into his lungs.

"What?"

"The Watcher." Spike curled - lips, tongue and fingers in Xander's hair. "Course, Angelus has got him now but he won't be expecting you and me to take him back."

"Huh?"

Spike sighed and transferred his grip to Xander's ear, twisting until he gasped. "Listen up boy. Once again. We're goin' to Angelus' place on Crawford Street to take the Watcher back from 'im. Takes away his leverage on the Slayer and frees her up to do what her kind do best. Slay. Meanwhile you, me and Dru are gonna be on our way out of town. Got it?" Spike let go of Xander to ash into a long-dead potted geranium. "Good. So what'd you do if you weren't getting me my books."

"I was in the library when they took Giles."

Spike narrowed his eyes. "Dru see you?"

Xander shook his head. "Had a book case thrown at me."

Spike took half a step back, looked Xander over more carefully. "You hurt?"

"No. But - " Xander could feel Spike's gaze on him like spiders up his spine, swallowed hard to get his throat working again. "But Willow was. I took her and ran."

"Red hair? Clothes like a Broadway musical vomited all over her?"

Xander wasn't sure if a nod was appropriate but it sounded like Willow. He nodded.

"She all right?"

"She woke up. She knows what I am."

"Bound to happen some time pet."

"You're not mad?"

Spike snorted. "I want my Dru. Doubt your little red-headed friend's gonna be the one to stop me getting her back." Spike's gaze flicked to the house's one battery powered clock - the one clock that wasn't flashing the wrong time in garish red or green letters. "Best pack anything you're of a mind to keep."

"Why?"

"Told you, didn't I? We're leaving town, the three of us." Spike slid a hand behind Xander's neck - pulled him forward to brush cool dead lips against cool dead lips in a way that wouldn't have been half as nice before 'dead' had entered Xander's erotic vocabulary as a good thing.

"Where're we going?" Xander didn't pull away from Spike's lips and sighed pleasurably, felt little tensions click free and relax to the hard press of Spike's body along his. Who'd known they'd be almost the same height once Spike's legs healed? Who'd known it'd be so fuckin' nice not having to crane his neck into kisses that flowed this naturally between them?

"Thought we'd go south." Spike's fingers were weaving through Xander's hair, slow one-two stroke and a sweep of thumb. "Down to Brazil. Promised the Slayer we'd leave the country if she gave us Dru."

The tenderness in Spike's voice shivered through Xander, sparking in his belly in a guilty way. "Don't want to share you."

Spike chuckled, tightened his fingers in Xander's hair and manhandled (vamphandled?) his head until he could look into Xander's eyes. "You've been sharing me this whole time, beastie. Whether she's here or not."

Xander tried jerking away from Spike's grasp but only managed to pull out a few hairs. He growled and felt the ripple-shift of bone under skin - then lost it when Spike shook him like a dog with a rabbit.

"Won't have to give me up, luv. We'll be a happy family, the three of us. Scourge of - well, no Scourge's already been done, hasn't it? We'll be the terror of Brazil, feed on all that warm skin - never loses the taste of sunshine. Roll a warm body between us all blood and salt and spunk - " Xander jerked as Spike's fingers closed around his cock, slow rub and grind with the heel of his hand. "I've got a whole world to show you, pet - me and Dru we'll take right good care of you."

Stroking and rubbing - and rubbing and stroking and Xander was silly putty in Spike's hands ready to pick up whatever he was pressed against and absorbing all those seductive words whispered into his ear.

"You be a good lad and you and me - we'll bring Dru pretty baubles and dance with her in the moonlight."

Xander nodded like a good boy - good vamp? Good something because Spike was unzipping him and pulling him out and it was pretty hard to worry with Spike's lips around his cock and his promises oozing through Xander's brain like sweet syrup.

Pre-dawn sunlight zinged over Xander's skin, crawled up and down his spine and sent twirling sparklers down his throat and into his belly.

The closer dawn came, Xander felt more and more like a Chinese New Year celebration.

Right down to the tingly fizz of his lips where Spike'd kissed him goodbye.

'You keep yourself out of sight, mind. Slayer doesn't need the distraction - Red'll tell her after.'

Spike had a point.

The many-legged dragon of nausea tromped circles in Xander's belly when he thought of Buffy.

Slayer kink? Not so kinky when slayage was intimately involved.

The zing turned into a zap and there was a shout and clatter inside the mansion and Xander knew a cue when he heard one, scrambled under the bushes, broke the basement window and slithered into the not-so-darkness to the clang of sword on sword upstairs that sounded nothing like the Renaissance Faire they had in Breakers Woods every summer.

And Xander really wished someone had told him vamps can hear other vamps being dusted and that it was a slithery sound like scales over sand that set his teeth on edge.

Up the stairs and down the hall and how the hell had Spike known the layout of the mansion this well?

Except as he ran down the hall, Giles' scent was getting fainter not stronger and okay - empty chair. Bloodied empty chair that was not a good sign when Xander's only mission if he chose to accept it - not that he had a choice - was to rescue Giles.

*Find Giles, Xander. Find the Watcher, boy.*

He wheeled around and slammed up against the wall behind him - out of the way of a headless body that disintegrated upon contact. "Better you than me, guy." Swords and taunting, taunting and swords - Xander had never been so glad in his life to run away from the fighting and he had a lot of running away from experience.

Xander put it to good use.

The smell was getting stronger and Xander had learned to trust the super deluxe vampire model nose, felt the bone and cartilage ripple and shift under his skin, drank in the flashfire tingle of slayer and family.

He could hear Spike dragging Dru down the hall after him - away from slayer and Angelus. Dru begging Spike 'no' and 'Daddy' and 'stop!'. Spike growling low and dragging her away. Away from Acathla - and please god or whoever listens to demons - away from being sucked into Hell, because Xander was so not ready for hell.

Follow the scent, follow the scent - old books, leather and a spicy demon scent that was Giles and how weird was it that a watcher had a demony scent and Xander could get his part of the deal done and they'd get out of there and - Xander screeched to a stop ridge to ridge, ripple to ripple, yellow eyed glare to yellow eyed - Dru's protests suddenly made awful, terrible - lots of sense.

"No, no sweet Spike! Daddy's for the slayer but my darling son can't be left behind - he'll be so cross and lost and alone without his mummy!"

"Mummy?" Spike pulled up short. Xander would've pulled up short with him if he wasn't already - short - or pulled up. One of those two. Short, pulled up and staring at Giles. Who Spike was staring at too. Giles with ridges. Giles with fangs. Giles with glasses polished bright and a head tilt that had to be part of demon genetics - or whatever. Spike spoke for both of them. "Fucking hell!"

Dru wriggled free of Spike's grasp, slipped past Xander the slack jawed yokel and drew Giles - Giles - into her arms. "Daddy didn't know how to play with his toys," she said, stroking, stroking Giles' cheek until ridges melted into eyes still glazed, still confused still so human for being dead. "So I took him away. He'll be coming with us, Spike."

"What? He fucking well will not!"

"Spike..." Dark eyes widened and brimmed with tears. Dru's lip began to tremble and she clutched Giles' fingers to her breast, reached out with her other hand to Spike's cheek and Xander heard the bone on bone crack when Spike batted her hand away.

Felt an itchy tingle in the back of his skull - a new itchy tingle. Angry sire? Xander shook his head, edged closer to Spike.

"He's a watcher, Dru! They'll hunt him down and us with him and we won't have a moment's peace!"

And ow ow ow! Tingle no longer itchy - hot hot hot. Xander staggered, shivered, edged as close to Spike as he could without crawling inside the duster and Dru wasn't looking at him - was looking through him - at Spike.

"They'll never find the three of us my sweet, my darling. My boys will protect me."

"Four, Dru. Four."

And Spike's voice was getting kind of weird, kind of echoy and could Xander feel like someone was walking over his grave if he didn't technically have a grave?

"Three. My naughty boy and my gentleman son and their loving mummy. The watchers will be far too busy training their vampire with a soul to ever look for our sweet family."

Hurting - hurting okay bad bad and was it manly to whimper? Did Xander whimper? Cause Spike's arm was tightening but it hurt - couldn't breathe - couldn't hear. Starting to hallucinate weird glowy things - and chanting - and -

"Few months too late for a vampire with a soul, Dru."

Spike's voice, the last thing Xander could hear as his world went supernova from the inside out.

"Spike!"

"No no, my Spike. Right on time."