The bathroom door opened pouring out a dissipating cloud of steam with Xander and Spike at its center.

Xander's brain starting functioning normally again. He decided to keep it that way. As long as Spike wasn't touching him, Xander was able think. He may not have wanted to think, but at least he could.

Spike walked in front of his pet, heading straight for Xander's bed where he slipped under the covers. He propped himself against the headboard and pulled the blankets up to his waist. Spike folded his hands behind his head and watched Xander stride over to the dresser somewhat determinedly.

Xander opened the third drawer from the top and pulled out a pair of worn cotton sweats. Spike watched, amused, while Xander stepped into them and pulled them up. The material did little to help Xander's cause with the way they settled and clung to his lean form, defining the prominent curve of his tightly muscled buttocks.

"What ya doing, pet," Spike asked him in a lazy voice as Xander pulled the long-sleeved jersey over his head.

"Getting ready for bed," Xander told him as he hopped on one foot while trying to pull on his other white sweat-sock.

Spike laughed then, "Xan-pet, come on now, what's with the kooky get-up?" Spike wanted to know as Xander tugged at the hem of the long shirt stopping just at above his groin.

"Um, cold?" Xander stated as he moved to the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers.

"Well luv, slide your gorgeous self over here and let Spike warm ya up, hmmm," Spike husked. His eyebrows wiggled and his smile asked, "ain't I just the sexiest vamp alive?"

"No-no, that's alright Spike- " Xander was saying even while the vampire slid closer and gathered Xander in his arms, pulling him close and cutting off his words with a barrage of soft kisses.

"You sure," Spike murmured. His hands slid under the material of the shirt, stroking Xander's back lightly.

"Yes," Xander husked back between kisses. They were facing each other now. Xander's hand snaked down between them. His fingers trembled and a shiver ran through his body the first time he grazed the cool flesh of Spike's erection.

"I'm sure," he sighed, wrapping his suddenly sweaty hand around the stiff column and tugging gently.

"If you're sure then, pet," Spike sighed back. His clever fingers wormed past the stretched elastic and lightly tied drawstring in the waistband of Xander's grey sweats. He cupped Xander's smooth globes, pulling the boy closer and wedging one of his thighs between Xander's.

Xander slung his leg over Spike's hip making it easier for them to get their groins closer. He wanted more friction, needed more of Spike's cold heat. After a few minutes of kissing and rubbing against each other through the light cotton Spike pulled back.

"Warm enough now, pet?"

"Hmmm yes warm," Xander replied slowly.

Spike snickered. "What?" Xander queried.

"You sound just like that cartoon guy, what's his name? Homer, yea, Homer Simpson, you sound like him saying dough-nuts." Spike teased as he pulled the shirt up to expose Xander's broad chest.

Xander arched up into the touch, making a small sound in his thought and closed his eyes as Spike's mouth claimed his nipples.

Spike pulled the shirt free and dropped it over the side of the bed. He lapped at Xander's parted lips, tasting his cinnamony-chocolate heat. His tongue trailed around the edged of Xander's lips, down over the bottom and lingered on his chin.

Xander arched his neck and Spike nuzzled his Adams-apple, dipped into the hollow at the base of his throat; then traced along the edge of his collarbone and back to his peaked nipples.

Flutters raced through Xander while Spike's tongue dipped in to tease his bellybutton before tracing the fine line of dark hair snaking down into his sweats.

Spike looked up, watching Xander as he mouthed the boy's erection through the thin material, making damp spots at Xander's crotch while his fingers toyed with the loose drawstring knot. In one swiftly fluid move Spike rose up on his knees beside Xander and flipped him over on his stomach; then he settled between the boy's spread legs.

Xander arched his back, raising his hips from the mattress so Spike could peel the cotton sweats down, exposing the curve of his smooth bottom. He gasped and groaned when Spike pressed him mouth to the hot skin; lips sucking in as much of Xander as they could while his tongue lathed back and forth. Then Spike was pulling the sweats all the way down and dropping them over the side of the bed.

Spike ran his hands the length of Xander's legs from ankles to the crease just under the buttocks. His thumbs slid into, and up the heated valley between the tight globes.

Xander turned his head so he could look over his shoulder and down his back. He watched Spike's pink tongue glide across his parted lips, brush over his slightly extended fangs while he lowered his head to place a kiss on each of Xander's quivering globes.

Soft sounds filled the close air - sighs, grunts, whimpers and mewls of pleasure as Spike gently parted Xander's buttocks, exposing the darker toned skin between. Spike leaned forward and blew a stream of cool air up and down Xander's furrow. He followed the stream of air with his tongue, sliding it up to the top cleft, then lapping back down to Xander's balls.

Spike nuzzled the crinkled skin, sending shiver through Xander as he tongued first one, then the other; until he had them both in his mouth. Spike did it over and over, and they watched each other from that position until Xander's neck started to ache from the awkward angle - Spike flat on his belly between Xan's splayed legs, chin and tongue buried in Xander's heat while he stared into Xander's passion clouded eyes.

Xander reached back and ran his fingers through Spike's hair, dragging his blunt nails over the sensitive scalp and making Spike's squirming grunts match his own. He urged Spike's head and tongue closer while pressing his hips back.

Spike tickled his pointed tongue into the tightness, breaching Xander's pucker with soft-wet hardness. Xander pushed his hips back wanting, needing more. Pale hands slid under him, stroking his drooling stiffness in counter rhythm to the gentle in-out of Spike's probing tongue.

They floated on the wave until Xander was humping back to meet the incredible tongue before easing forward into Spike's light grip on his rod. Xander grew tense when he felt a finger toying at his opening, worming its way in on the coating of slick spit Spike left.

A strange sensation washed through him, intensifying and lessening his pleasure. His body wanted more of what Spike was doing to him, but Xander was suddenly afraid of the overwhelming sensation. It made him feel helpless, and Xander didn't like feeling helpless; but he couldn't deny he liked the way it felt. He liked being helpless in Spike's hands.

~Patience Spike me boy, good things come to those who wait~

Guessing that Xander had never been touched like this, Spike kept his touch light despite the growing urge - the burning need to fuck Xander through the mattress.

"Relax, pet, relax. Won't do nothing ya ain't ready for Xan, promise," Spike's voice was a husky whisper reaching deep into Xander, making him melt.

Spike was wiling to wait a bit longer - to tease Xander with a taste of what it felt like to have something stroking gently into his heat. He wanted Xander so ready and hot that he'd practically be begging Spike to take him, to fill the emptiness, appease the achy hunger.

Using only his saliva and the steady drool from the head of his cock as lubricant, Spike worked his finger past the tight muscle ring - repeating the motions of his tongue with his finger.

First one finger worked Xander into a quivering mass of sweaty muscle - urging and coaxing him off the mattress and up onto his knees; then there were two fingers - gently twisting, turning, stroking, and stretching until Xander was rocking back and forth on his own; trying to get more sensation faster.

The sheets became tangled with their movements. The heat levels rose and Spike reared up on his own knees behind Xander. He wrapped the cool pale fingers of his left hand around his own erection and stroked himself in time with Xander's increasingly frantic movements. Spike angled himself so the pink head of his pale cock nudged against the mound at the base of Xander's.

"Spike-spike-spike," Xander panted deliriously. He had never experienced anything like. In the privacy of his mind, Xander could finally admit that he'd thought about it - maybe not doing it with Spike, but he had thought about doing it - and he admitted how much he liked it; to himself and out loud.

Spike's fingers found the bundle of nerves that was Xander's prostate. He stroked and rubbed it; rotating his finger and gently pressing the nerve-nodule, turning Xander into a bundle of whimpering weakness as he stroked and stirred the hot silky heat. He wanted desperately to sink himself inside of Xander; to feel the boy clenching around him, milking him the way he was milking Spike's fingers.

Spike stroked himself several times and then reach between Xander's straining thighs to grip and stroke Xander's cock. He tickled the boy's squirming balls, making them draw up tighter, signaling his impending orgasm.

Xander's pants and moans got breathier, more ragged. "Mmoore," he mewled. Xander's hips twitched uncontrollably, tremors ran through him; spreading out from his anus like hot quicksand. It raced down his thighs, making them tremble with weakness. He whined as it crawled across his back and down his arms. "Oh," Xander gave one last gasp before sliding into a keening hum. Spike pressed his finger into Xander's prostate, making small intense circles; turning his lover into jelly. His pale hand stroked his aching cock with a short jerky rhythm. A jolt shot down the length of Xander's cock, "gonna," his hips jerked once. Spike's fist moved faster. Xander felt a pop somewhere inside and his vision flickered dim, then flared into brightness as he came. Spike clenched his hand around himself - once, twice, and then climaxed. Their spunk splattering and dripping onto the tangled sheets.

~~~~~

"Alexander Harris!"

The sound of his mother yelling down the stairs pulled Xander out of a sound sleep.

"Are you down there?"

Xander turned over, rolling into the center of the bed. He raised his head and blinked around the basement.

"Xander!?"

"Yeah, I'm down here, what?" Xander called back tiredly. He looked around the room again and caught the time on the digital clock; it read 10:45am. "Shit," he muttered.

"Your boss is on the phone, he-"

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in a sec," Xander cut her off.

10:45am. He was supposed to be at work for 9:00am. In fifteen minutes he would be 2 hours late for work. Angry and slightly apprehensive, Xander quickly found the clothes he'd had on when he got in the bed.

He pulled on the sweat pants and jersey and went up to get the phone. His apprehension grew at the look on his mother's face. It must be of the seriously not good if his boss was calling him at home. Knowing he was about to get fired, Xander reached for the phone.

Mrs. Harris shoved it in his direction then folded her cellulite-ridden arms across her ample bosom. Xander eyed the varicose veins with mild distaste.

"Do you mind," he asked her with a sour note. Xander watched her shake her head and shuffle-stomp from the kitchen. "Hello, Mr. Grayson, this is Xander, please sir, I realize I'm two hours late, I over slept..."

"...yes Mr. Grayson, I realize that happens a lot, I'm sorry sir but..." Xander turned away from the sink and found his mother watching him. She'd snuck back to stick her head in past the kitchen door so she could listen to his side of the conversation.

"I'll be there in thirty-minutes," Xander said and hung up. Without looking at his mother, Xander trudged back to the basement.

~~~~~

"Are you sure this is a good idea," Willow asked uncertainly.

"Yes, "Willow," Buffy said impatiently, "we're not in high-school anymore, who's gonna care if we miss a class or three? Besides, I want to know why Xander never showed up for patrol last night. Did he call you at least?"

They were walking away from their campus dorm-rooms. Buffy cast a glance in her friend's direction.

"No," Willow said without looking at Buffy. She really didn't see why Buffy was so miffed about Xander's no-show, it wasn't like they'd actually gone out and patrolled the night before.

Willow fussed with the buttons on the bulky green sweater she wore over a white shirt. They hadn't even done any researchy-type stuff. Giles had spent the even catching up on his reading, Buffy had gone off to beat up on the defenseless punching-bag, and Willow had spent the evening cracking codes and locking hackers out of their hacked domains just for the hell of it.

She brushed at the *happy-bright* daisy-chains woven into the sweater at the hem, cuffs, and neckline. Her pale hands smoothed the tail of the white shirt lying over the top of her denim skirt which flared around her knees as she quickened her steps to keep up with Buffy's bulldozing stride.

Buffy walk on, oblivious. The steady click-clack, click-clack of her boot heels striking against pavement annoyingly as she led them to the street where the local Photo-Mart was located. Buffy expected to find Xander stuffing stupid little metal canisters into one end of the outdated processing machine, and pulling pictures and strips of film-negatives from the other.

~I thought everyone knew about those neat little digital camera-thingies~

~~~~~

"What do you mean Xander doesn't work here?" Buffy snapped at Mr. Grayson, Xander's former employer.

"Just what I said, young lady," Joe replied eyeing the tiny white string-tee top peeking through Buffy's open leather jacket.

"What happened, I thought Xander was doing so well," Willow wanted to know. She knew Xander better than anyone, knew that something terribly bad must have happened for him to loose such a lame and easy job.

~I wonder what happened~

"We got robbed, and it's Harris' fault. Mr. Harris failed to meet company expectations," he told them loftily while eyeing Willow quickly before turning back to focus on Buffy. His bloodshot eyes trailed down over the tight blue jeans emphasizing her curvy figure.

~That Harris is a lucky bastard, sheesh what I wouldn't do ta have birds like this hunting me down~

"What exactly does that mean?" Buffy snapped, getting more and more irritated with the way this lush was ogling her.

"Well, pretty young miss, I'll tell ya," he leaned toward Buffy.

"Hey, I remember you now?" Willow questioned out loud, "didn't I see you hanging around that seedy little bar?"

Mr. Grayson was suddenly very professional with them. "I have no idea what you're talking about young lady," he said. He boss was still in the back room and might over hear.

"Yes, I'm certain now, it was you. About two days ago I remember because I wondered why you'd be going into that place but then remembered they start their happy-hour early."

"You must be mistaken," he said gruffly while casting a glance toward the back. "Look, Xander's a nice guy, but we can't just over look this. He's lucky he's not being considered a suspect in the robbery; it's bad enough he forgot to put the cash and daily receipts in the safe, but he left the front door unlocked and wide open."

"You've got to be kidding!? Xander's not that irresponsible," Buffy said defending her friend.

"Look miss, I'm sure he isn't, most of the time, but like I said, management isn't taking a kind view on this situation. Now, if you hurry you may still be able to catch him. Xander left with his last paycheck about five minutes before you arrived. Have a nice day ladies," Mr. Grayson said while ushering them out of the small shop.

Out on the sidewalk Buffy and Willow stood staring at each other.

"What a letch," Willow said with a shiver.

"Yeah, did you see the way he was undressing me in there?"

Both young women shook their heads in disgust.

"I can't believe Xander could be so stupid," Buffy ranted out of nowhere, as she started off down the street, "but I'm not really surprised, we are talking about Xander, after all. I mean he can't even go out for doughnuts without getting himself almost killed."

Willow studied Buffy with a disturbed look. She hadn't realized Buffy felt this strongly about Xander. Not sure exactly what she should do, or what she could do, Willow sighed and started down the street after the fed-up blonde.

~I'll just have to wait until Xander comes to the shop tonight for patrol, then I'll find out what happened~

Willow and Xander had been best friends since they were little kids playing in the sandbox. She knew that if Xander had lost his job, he wouldn't want to be around anyone for a while. He'd either be really angry or really down. Willow decided that tonight would be soon enough. If what Xander's ex-boss had said were true, then Xander would most likely be really, really angry - at himself; which meant they wouldn't find him no matter how hard they looked.

~~~~~

Xander sat on a bench near the playground. Occasionally he would look up from the check he held in his hands. He watched the mothers out with their small ones for the afternoon stroll and romp in the park before nap-time.

Once again, Xander found himself wondering what he was going to do and where he was going to go. He didn't want to go home. Spike wouldn't be back until after the sun set.

Xander had to shake his head at that.

~Got irony?~

Yesterday, he hadn't wanted to go home because there was a vampire there, waiting to seduce him. Today he didn't want to go home because that same seducing vampire wouldn't be there.

"Oh well, at least there's enough to pay this month's rent. Oh, and look! Why I've even got some left over!" Xander said sarcastically to no-one and everyone who was listening.

*****
Part 5:

Willow sat cross-legged on the narrow single-bed in her dorm room. Her laptop sat on the bed in front of her with a neat little stack of paper next to it.

Cassandra Royal�, the red-head's current room-mate, slammed her closet door. The brunette turned and slung a tiny red leather jacket over her shoulder and smoothed her leather skirt. She glanced over at Willow through the fall of her shoulder-length black hair.

Cassandra was still steaming from having Willow refuse to lend her the stupid laptop. It wasn't like it was expensive or anything, and Cassandra only wanted to borrow it so she could look studious when she went to the campus library. There was a boy there she wanted to get to know better.

Cassandra wasn't used to people telling her no or standing in the way of what she wanted. The Southern-born brunette wasn't used to life in a place like Sunnydale either. She could have just as easily stayed in Georgia and attended junior college there, but NO, daddy had this incredibly Stupid idea that it would build her character if she were exposed to the world outside her little Atlanta domain. Now she was stuck here with these Ordinary people.

~Ah'll fix ya lil' red wagon, sugah~

The brunette sashayed across the room, passing close enough to Willow's bed to bump it; upsetting everything on top.

Willow's hand shot out to grab the laptop. The stack of papers slid off the bed and fluttered to the floor.

"Careful, sugah," Cassandra drawled, eyeing Willow and her hateful gadget as if they'd bumped into her on purpose. Then she glanced down to the floor at Willow's fifty page summation on "The Evils of the Tobacco Industry and their role in contributing to the increase of deaths caused by second-hand smoke in today's insufficiently funded Health Industry".

"Oh, sugah, look, ya'll done gon and scattered that pretty stack of papers a'flutterin across the flo," Cassandra said, "Nah ain't that just rotten luck?"

Willow didn't say anything. She stared at her report in horror as Cassandra pranced over the pages. Her stiletto heels punched nice little holes in as many pages as possible when she made her made way across the room to the door.

The tall brunette stopped with her hand on the doorknob, her ankle-bracelet flashed in the sunlight as she slowly bent her right knee. Cassandra reached back to pluck one of the papers from her heel. Her luminous hazel eyes glanced down through heavily mascara-coated lashes at the paper in her hand.

"Page sex-teheen," she breathed holding the page out toward Willow. The red-head just sat staring at her.

Cassandra shrugged her shoulder causing the red leather to slide off, exposing her creamy skin and black bra-strap when she tossed the paper on the desk near the door.

"Wehll, Cassy has ta run, Ah got's a date with this cute boy Ah met this moh-nin when Ah went for latt�, see yah lat-ah hon."

Willow watched the girl sweep out the door in a wash of magnolia perfume and skin-tight red leather. The minute the door closed Willow started muttering.

The page on the desk let out a little *snap*, curled into flame which vanished in swirl of smoke, rising from a tiny pile of ash.

Her gimlet gaze shot to the next ruined page - mutter-*snap*-flame-smoke-ash.

Willow was about ten pages along when someone knocked on the door.

~~~~~

Buffy rapped on Willow's door once and then walked into the room. She stopped just inside the door, surprised by the sight greeting her.

Willow sat in the center of her bed, clutching the titanium and purple laptop to her chest. Buffy stared at it and remembered it had been a present from Xander.

~He's supposed to have a crush on me, why's Willow getting the gifts?~

Buffy's eyes widened in shock, and she hopped to the side as the page closest to her foot let out a little *pop* and curled up in greenish flame before swirling away in red smoke. There were ten or eleven tiny piles of ash dotting the floor.

"You might want to shut the door and stand someplace safe until I'm done," Willow muttered between one snap and the next.

Buffy quickly edged into the room and shut the door. The safest place was on the other side of the room near the closet; where there weren't any paper's scattered so Buffy quickly made her way past Willow's bed.

"Wills, you mind telling me what's going on?" Buffy asked as she moved.

Willow crawled off the bed, snagging the slim titanium briefcase and carefully placing the laptop inside. Snapping the lid closed, Willow held it out towards Buffy. *snap*

"Hold this." *snap*

Buffy quickly snatched the case from Willow's hand then leaned back. "Wills, what..."

Another *Snap*, louder this time as several pages went up at once.

"That -*snap* That - Hot-house shemale*snap* Tobacco Plantation Hussy!" Willow ground out between clenched teeth. *snap**snap**snap*

"Willow!"

"NOT now, Buffy!"

Willow's voice crackled. She muttered again and flung her arm toward the small window near Cassandra's bed. The glass rattled loudly in the frame as it shot up then *banged* to a stop. The piles of ash swirled out through the open window.

Buffy continued to watch, amazed at Willow snapping page after page until there were only tiny little piles of ash left; blowing the piles out the window in a steady flow of mutters and *snap*-flashes.

Buffy didn't think she'd ever seen her friend doing anything like this before, ever. She was completely freaked as the image she had of Willow shattered into so many little flares of flame.

~Oh, shit! I didn't know she could do that!~

Willow raised her right hand. She muttered a garbled string of words and Buffy almost dropped the laptop when a little ball of sizzling energy *snapped* in from no-where, to hover over the witch's palm.

"Don't drop it," Willow said without looking in Buffy's direction. She had her narrowed gaze focused on Cassandra's dresser along the other wall.

Willow clenched her hand around the sizzling little ball. A bottle of perfume exploded, filling the room with the cloyingly-sweet smell of magnolias. *snap* Another pile of ash blew out the window.

The witch made a sweeping gesture with the glowing red ball. The row of bottles exploded one by one. When she reached the end of the dresser, Willow went back across it, in the opposite direction; methodically pulverizing over a thousand dollars worth of cosmetics.

Her muttering turned scathing as she turned away from the dresser. *snap**snap**snap*

"Willow, Stop!" Buffy squealed. She happened to be standing near the closet Willow was staring at. "That's enough."

"Um, no. Not yet."

"Yes, Willow it is, stop it please. Just please stop now. Damn-it, what's gotten into you?"

Willow flicked her eyes towards Buffy. "Did you see her?" she hissed, her voice dropping an octave. *snap*

"See who?"

"That - that"

"No! Wills don't."

Willow took a deep breath. "Sorry."

~Like hell, I am, humph~

"Um, Willow?"

"Yes."

Willow was staring at the closet again.

"You want to put that out and tell me what's up?" Buffy said, pointing at Willow's glowing hand.

"Well, no not really, but I will," she said a bit petualantly.

As if this was something she did everyday, Willow flicked her fingers and the glowing ball vanished.

With another negligent flick of her fingers, she cleared the dresser and floor of the debris, dumping it into the mahogany wastebasket next to Cassandra's "Famahly-heirloom (handed-down-from-Nana) sugah," matching Secretary-Desk.

"Gee, Wills, think she might get upset over this," Buffy asked dryly as she looked around then lowered herself to Willow's bed.

"I certainly hope so, maybe then she'll learn to watch where she's walking."

Buffy stared at Willow, her mind replaying the scene she'd walked in on. "What exactly did she do?"

"She knocked over my report."

"Why would she do that?"

"She was mad because I wouldn't lend her my laptop."

"Oh, is that all? Willow, come,"

"Buffy," Willow cut her off, "Xander gave me that laptop; no-body uses that laptop except me.

You just don't understand, Buffy, she makes me so angry!" Willow whined, pulling at her hair.

Doing a perfect imitation of Cassandra, Willow went on. "Sugah, this and sugah, that. She did it on purpose. She deliberately wrecked my paper! Then she walked on it Buffy!"

Willow strutted around the room, flipping her hair and swinging her hips exactly like the brunette had done.

"Calm down Willow,"

Willow stopped in mid-prance. She decided it to scream. "She walked on it with those hookershoes!"

"What shoes?"

"Her six-inch-come-fuck-me-hooker-shoes, Buffy, didn't you see her?" Willow questioned in disbelief. "The little slut," she snapped, in after thought.

"Well, yeah I guess I did see her," Buffy said carefully. She'd passed the other girl down in the commons on her way in. She remembered what the brunette had been wearing. Buffy didn't really know Cassandra, beyond the fact she was Willow's newest room-mate.

Looking around again Buffy wondered if this might be the reason Willow couldn't keep a room-mate. But then she remembered how much Cassandra reminded her of Faith; that other slayer, and Buffy shrugged.

"And did you see that Ho-suit she had on?" Willow asked, "you couldn't miss it, I mean the thing started and ended just above her crotch for goddess-sakes!"

"And that band-aid", Willow huffed, "she smeared across her twenty-five thousand dollar boob job. I mean rilly! Self-esteem issues much, ya think?"

No matter what else she may have thought, Buffy had to agree with her friend's assessment so far. "Poor thing, she wasn't even wearing any hose."

"And did you see that icky-awful nail polish? Brazen-berry Red? Please."

"Yeah, but still, Wills, that's no reason to, to," Buffy gestured in the direction of the dresser, unable to find the right word for what she'd seen Willow doing

"What? Vent? I'm not allowed to vent? I'm supposed to always be good little Willow, everybody's happy little witch?"

"Well, noo."

"Good."

"But,"

"Buffy," Willow said very patiently, "she makes me very, very angry."

~~~~~

Giles looked up as the girls entered the shop. He was standing behind the counter reviewing the manifest for the recent shipment of magical supplies.

"Buffy, Willow," the Watcher said.

"Hey, Giles," the girls called as they moved deeper into the Shop of Curious Goods and Literature.

"Giles, can I use the printer?" Willow asked.

"Really, Willow, didn't you just use the printer yesterday? I don't understand why you can't use the printers at your school, those ink cartridge things are rather expensive."

"I know, I'm sorry," Willow apologized in a small voice.

"Oh, alright, yes, go ahead Willow. You may use my printer," Giles told her.

A smile blossomed on the witch's pale face and she pulled a CD-jewel case from her bag as she headed towards Giles' small computer work-station.

"May I ask what you're printing this time?"

"Oh sure," Willow called back as she nudged the disc-tray and slid the mouse back and forth on the mouse-pad. "The final version of my summation."

Buffy's mouth opened and closed. Then she opened it again, "You mean you have that report on disc?"

"Of course I do, I'm the *nerdy-type*, remember?" Willow called back, making quotation marks in the air over her head with her fingers.

"I'd just finished my revisions when miss Cassandra-sugah decided to be bitchy. Oops, did I say that? sorry, Giles."

"What's that all about?" Giles questioned Buffy.

"I'll tell you later, I want to ask you something first," she told him, moving them toward the large reading alcove. "How strong is Willow, really?" Buffy wanted to know.

Giles took off his glasses. "I'm not exactly sure," he sighed.

"What do you mean you're not sure? You're a Watcher right? Aren't you supposed to know things?"

Giles raised his glasses and studied them. He looked past them at Buffy and spoke again, his fingers rubbing a soft white cloth over the lenses.

"Willow's power seems to be tied directly to her emotions. The strength and severity of what she is feeling dictates how strong she is at any given moment. Imagine if you will, a 90.lb mother lifting a mini-van and turning it over in order to save her loved ones."

He replaced his glasses. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Buffy said eyeing him strangely, "I saw something very un-Willow-ish this afternoon," she told him lowering her voice.

"Really," Giles leaned forward, "exactly how un-Willow-ish?"

"Giles, it was so totally weird. I mean, I walked into her dorm room and there she was, exploding sheets of paper into ashes, one at a time." Buffy told him incredulously, as if she still couldn't believe she'd seen it happening.

"You don't say? One at a time, hmmm? Good, her control is getting better then," Giles nodded to himself.

"Good!? Giles, what do you mean good? Not good here, cuz while she was burning up the report she's in there reprinting, and blowing the ashes out the window; she was exploding everything on her room-mates dresser!"

"Oh my," Giles was suddenly excited and Buffy started to feel a bit better now that he was worried too.

"Well, she's much further along than I'd expected, I'll have to look into developing a curriculum for advancing her to the next level."

"Next level? What are you talking about?! Dangerous, Giles, can we say DANGEROUS? Willow's,"

"Not dangerous to anyone, except her enemies," Giles cut in, "she and I have been working on expanding and fine-tuning her abilities. I must say, I am rather surprised at this though, I hadn't expected this level of control for at least another month or two."

"What!? You've been working with her? Fine-tuning her abilities? Why didn't I know about this?"

"Buffy, be reasonable," Giles told her in that fatherly voice he was prone to use when explaining things to the slayer.

"It really isn't necessary for you to be aware of everything that's going on in Sunnydale."

"Why not? I'm the slayer." Buffy stated confidently.

Giles gave her a long look. "Buffy, I don't mean to be harsh, but as the slayer, your job is to slay vampires, not worry my ability to oversee Willow's magical education.

I'm sure you'll agree that I am qualified to do so, and I do know what I'm doing." Giles told her as he rose from the table to return to his manifest and shipments.

Buffy could only stare after him.

~Okie, What's going on here?~

~~~~~

"So, the place got robbed, at least they're not trying to pin it on you," Spike was saying.

He and Xander were sitting in the back of an out of the way diner. There was a quarter of un-eaten hamburger and cold fries on a plate near Xander's left elbow, and Xander was tapping the tines of a bent fork against the scarred Formica tabletop.

"It's not the end of the world, ya know."

"Maybe not for you, you don't' have to worry about paying rent."

"That's not exactly fair Xander," Spike said in an false sounding, injured tone. "It's not my fault you got fired."

"Yeah, Spike, actually it is," Xander stated as he slumped back against the cracked brown vinyl of the close booth the two were sitting in.

Xander had spent the day at the movies, going back and forth between the three tiny theaters in the local Cineplex. Before wasting time there waiting for the sun to set, Xander had gone to the bank to deposit his check. He kept enough cash to last him through the upcoming three-day weekend.

Once the sun had set, Xander had headed back to the basement, where he quickly showered and changed his clothes. He'd been tying his shoelaces when Spike had rapped his special knock on the basement's door before waltzing in.

~~~~~

"How's that," Spike asked with a narrowed glance.

Xander was in an odd state of mind and miffed by Spike's seemingly un-caring attitude towards Xander having lost his job - again. There was also the possibility that he might be forced to move into the crypt with the vampire if he didn't find another one before the rent was due again.

"If you hadn't seduced me with that blow-job, then I wouldn't have been so distracted? Yeah, let's distract Xander; upset his equilibrium so he's dumber than normal."

Xander's glower turned into a look of glee-dementia. Spike eyed the boy cautiously.

"Now, let's watch dumb-Xander make a bigger mess of his life than normal - forgetting to put the cash drawer in the stupid safe - *not* set the alarm. Oh yeah, let's not forget leaving the damn door wide open."

He fell back against the seat again, out of steam for the moment.

"What are you grinning at Spike?" Xander snapped.

"So, this is all my fault? Because I give such a killer blow-job, hmmm."

"Yeah, Spike."

"And you were thinking about me? That's why you forgot to lock up the loot and all?"

"Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, yes," Xander said scrubbing at his face.

"What do you mean, as much as you hate to admit it? That's great news, pet."

"You don't get it do you, Spike?"

"Get what, Xander?"

Xander scrubbed at his face again, running his fingers up through the dark tumble of his hair in exasperation.

"Spike, you're a vampire," Xander told him as if that explained everything.

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm not."

"Can be fixed, Xan," Spike grinned wickedly.

"Be serious."

Spike's grin vanished. His body-language turned intensely serious, "I am, believe me, Xander, I am."

They sat staring at each other for a minute longer. The air around them vibrated.

"I'll think about it," Xander said.

"Really?"

"Shut up, Spike. This is serious. I'm just accepting the *Xander-liking-Spike* thing. It's weird, but I'm dealing with it. What worries me is how everyone else will deal with it. Buffy? Giles? Willow? Oh shit, Wills is gonna freak!"

Xander sat forward and pressed his hands and forehead against the cool table-top. Then he groaned loudly.

"Calm down, Xander," Spike said, reaching across the table and ruffling Xander's hair with one hand while the other squeezed Xander's knee underneath.

"Spike, I'm gonna be homeless soon. There's Xander-sex with a demon," Xander looked up at him darkly.

"Xander-sex?"

"Yeh, I'll show you later don't change the subject."

"Okay, pet, Xander-sex, wow," Spike whistled.

Things hadn't turned out too badly, Spike reflected as he dropped Xander's jacket on his head. Spike's grin had returned.

"Stop grinning at me like that, you're making me nervous," Xander said, sitting up and shrugging into his plain brown windbreaker.

"Can't, still thinking about you thinking about me all day," Spike leered then snapped the collar on his leather duster as he slid from the booth and stood waiting for Xander.

"Come on, Xan, the night's still young, let's celebrate!" Spike whooped.

Several of the other patrons looked askance in their direction and Spike flipped them the bird as he slipped his free arm around Xander's shoulders and pulled him close.

~Xander-sex? Hmmm, can't wait~

*****