*****

"You want to.," he hesitated, taking a long drag off his cigarette and peering at Xander, hopeful that he'd heard wrong.

"Just a little spin. A half spin really," Xander pleaded. "Except I'll go in a straight line. Promise."

Spike glanced from his bike to Xander and back again. "It's not that I don't trust you. I.," Spike sighed and tossed his fag to the ground, stepping on it with his boot. "Oh sod it all, course I don't trust you. 'Sides, I bet you couldn't handle a bloody ten speed."

"Hey!" said Xander, defensively. "Sometimes the training wheels are like a security blanket. Just because all the other kids didn't need them, doesn't mean I'm slow. Not that I had a security blanket up until I was seven.," he added.

"Red said you were nine," Spike smirked. "Dusty was it?"

"Rusty. And leave him out of this!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Fact is, I care more about that bike than I do about any of your bloody parts."

"Look on the bright side. If I do crash, which I won't, but if I do, my bloody parts will be scattered all over the highway," Xander offered cheerily. "Might even leave a fresh little puddle of red delicious for you to lap up."

Spike pursed his lips and squinted in contemplation. "Alright," he said, suddenly enthused. He turned back to the bike and swung his leg over the seat, standing at a straddle. Xander didn't move. "Well, hop on then whelp."

"Um, you're gonna be that close?"

Seemingly amused, Spike quirked a brow. "You think I'd let you ride it all by yourself? Sorry, Daddy's pulling rank. And like you said, any of those precious bodily fluids of yours spill a bit, I want to be there to drink'em up. Now get your insipid arse on this seat or deal's off."

After a reluctant sigh, Xander awkwardly mounted the metal steed and managed to position himself in front of Spike. He froze again when Spike's hands wrapped around his waist.

"And suddenly our relationship entails hugging," Xander mused.

"Well I've got to fasten myself on somehow. Not my fault your love handles offer the best support," retorted Spike.

The engine roared as Xander started it up in a moment of passive aggression to drown out Spike's insults. Sunnydale seemed empty as they buzzed down the crowdless Thursday night streets. An adrenaline charged giddiness flooded Xander's chest, the rush of wind on his face increasing the high.

"Miss Daisy, mind the limit," Spike yelled. "You're not going nearly fast enough."

Xander didn't move his concentrated gaze from the road ahead but he acknowledged Spike by speeding up a bit. Cheek to ear they rode, Spike's face cooling the valley of Xander's neck, which was ablaze with a nervous flush. Whether his blush was a result of driving nerves or something else, neither man was certain.

"You're swerving too much," said Spike.

"I thought you said *I* could drive," muttered Xander.

"And you're clearly proving me wrong," snapped the vampire, no words lost to him beneath the growl of the motor.

Xander turned, rather sharply, onto a back road. Dirt spit from beneath the tires as they roared over the unpaved path. Adjusting to the newfound freedom, Xander began to push sixty miles per hour. Not that he was paying attention to numbers. But he realized that the faster he proceeded, the firmer Spike's grip became. Sixty-five.sixty-seven.

"Now you're getting' it," coaxed Spike, his lips inexcusably close to Xander's earlobe.

"I'm a fast learner," Xander replied. And as if the vibrating below them wasn't enough, Xander could swear that the air between them trembled slightly with a deep throated chuckle from Spike. Sixty-nine.

"You ready to get off, mate?"

"What?!" There was a sharp screech as a shocked Xander veered off for a second. He regained composure, and control of the bike, before crashing them into a patch of trees.

"I said, do you want to pull over?" Spike clarified. "So I can drive."

"Oh.uh, no. I'm starting to dig the CHiPs lifestyle," Xander let out a nervous laugh. He coughed and swallowed and cursed the fact that Spike could pick up on every anxious gesture. "I can drive us back to the crypt though."

Spike didn't answer immediately. The growing silence between them made Xander feel all the more foolish. Absentmindedly, he glanced at the rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of Spike's reaction. Of course there was nothing but darkness in the reflection.

"Yeah," said Spike, slowly. "Yeah, alright."

Xander could breathe again. He relaxed against the tobacco scented leather, Spike's grip hardening all the more.

"Take a left here," Spike instructed. And Xander obeyed, leaning in synch with the machine as it rounded the corner. They didn't say much the rest of the way. Even as they approached the cemetery gate, and putted slowly down the aisle of headstones, neither spoke. Xander cut the engine in front of the mausoleum.

"Home sweet tomb," announced Xander.

They dismounted the motorcycle and Spike began walking it to the door, but a shuffling sound made them pause. It came from a few yards south of where they stood. A rustling like a chorus of bushes accompanied by low sounds. Finally, it became formed into words. Some talking that they couldn't make out until it was directly behind the stone building. The men froze as the conversation became audible and the voices distinct.

"I'm gonna be sore for a week," she whined.

"Sorry Will, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Not that patrol isn't barrels of fun with you around. But I don't want you getting hurt."

"No, Buffy, I'm fine. Really," said Willow. "Bonding time is totally worth the small ouch factor. By the way, you're getting way better at hand to hand."

"Thanks, but I learned from the-," Buffy's appreciative smile fell to a frown as she turned the corner. "Xander?"

Willow's forehead lifted in a similar shade of surprise. "And Spike?"

The girls glanced at the bike that Spike had left to rest on the ground. Buffy wrinkled her nose. "What's with the boyride?"

"Uh nothing to fret about Slayer, just gave Xander here a lift is all," Spike explained, coolly.

"To the graveyard?" asked Willow.

"Well, Wills, I can see why you'd be confused considering Spike's a vampire and our best friend is a Slayer."

"Oh. Right," agreed Willow.

Buffy nodded. "Well we're heading back to the Bronze. Wanna come Xan?"

Xander glanced at Spike, who avoided the brown-eyed gaze at all costs. Plastered with nonchalance, the vampire leaned against the crypt and lit up a cigarette. "Go on now, don't want you kids messin' up my night."

Buffy rolled her eyes and continued past Spike, Willow at her side.

"You coming, Xander?" The redhead turned on her heels to face Xander as she continued walking backwards.

"Yeah, sure," Xander assented. "I'm in."

Willow shoved her hands deep into her overall pockets and turned forward, to converse with Buffy. Xander threw one more eyed apology at Spike before turning to follow his friends. The girls chatted continuously, oblivious to Xander's blatant disappointment as he sulked quietly. A pointed weapon slipped from Buffy's jacked and fell to the ground, noticed only by the boy who tagged behind. Instinctively, he reached down to retrieve it.

"Oh, hey Buffy you dropped your.," Xander's eyes widened and he quickly released the phallic object. "That is *so* not a stake!"

*end*