*****

"Why the bloody hell can't we just stay here? Stock up on cucumbers and fish food, and barricade the doors?" Spike was sitting on the couch, giving Xander a half-disdainful, half-bored look. Possibly because Xander was dressed.

"Because there's at least five spellcasters out there who could just teleport inside, and a damn big vampire who doesn't have to be invited in because he owns the whole place and isn't afraid to break down the door if he has to?" It sounded terribly reasonable to Xander, but Spike just waved his fingers. Pooh-pooh to the spellcasters and the pissed-off Sire, I wanna stay here and shag. Sure he did--*he* had that vampire healing factor going for him, if he got beaten up by a mob of angry friends and family.

"So you wanna go somewhere *else*, someplace sunny and at least eight hours away which means stuffing *somebody* into cargo, just so we can check into a hotel and stay indoors and shag all day, for two weeks?" Spike gave him a look that said he thought he was marrying a moron.

He walked up close to Spike, and looked straight in his face. It was time for the Mr. Rogers version of reality. "Spike, if we do not leave, after we get married, we will make so much noise that all our friends and loved ones will get together to kill us. Can you say 'short honeymoon,' Spike? C'mon, say it with me."

Spike just grinned. "Least we'll die happy. Don't you wanna go out with a bang?" His eyebrows went up, and he leered. Which, for Spike, meant his facial expression didn't change. "Or I could gag you. Be real quiet, then."

"You can gag me, spank me, cover me with strawberry ice cream, tie me up, and tickle me with a feather duster while you play the *entire* run of 'Dukes of Hazzard' in the background---" Spike's eyes lit up at the mention of the show, and Xander hurried on, because there were some things he did *not* want to know about his fianc�. "But you're gonna be doing it at least a thousand miles away from here. I promised more people than I can list on all of our appendages combined."

He could see Spike counting, now, and yes, he knew Spike was going to count up to forty-two. It was just the way Spike's mind worked. Or didn't work. Then Spike stopped counting, and gave Xander a pleading look. "Can't we combine some appendages, now, and look through those things later?"

It apparently didn't faze him that Xander had made promises to take them away. Since when did Spike worry about keeping promises? To anyone except Xander, and possibly Angel sometimes. And Dru. And, come to think of it, Buffy. And-- "Spike, we can combine appendages later. You have to book in advance for most of these places, so come and look at 'em with me." Xander walked back over to the spot on the carpet where he'd spread a kaleidoscope of brightly colored travel brochures out. He lay down on his stomach again, and stared flipping through the 'maybe' pile.

"Don' *wanna* go away," Spike whined.

Xander heard him kick at the couch, but he didn't look up. Teach the vampire right, if Xander had to pick on his own -- he'd always wanted to go to Hawaii. San Diego? Someplace on the equator... Alaska, in summer. Then again, there were other, more subtle ways to torture Spike. "Hey, not all of these places are bright and sunny. What about Torquay? Quaint little shops, lovely garden gnomes..." he read from the brochure, "and it rains day in and day out. Sounds perfect." He held up the brochure over his shoulder so Spike could see it.

Spike narrowed his eyes. "We *do* get BBC America, thank you. Not that Princess didn't order me the complete set of disks, two years ago. And, hey! Where did you get a brochure from *them*?" Spike got off the couch, and sprawled onto the floor beside him, to grab the brochure from Fawlty Towers.

Xander grinned. "Not all of these places are in this dimension. Did I forget to mention that? With all the witches and mages and whatevers we've got, they volunteered to send us pretty much wherever we want to go, as long as it's *away*."

"Really?" and *finally*, thank god, Spike sounded interested. "We could go to the world without shrimp?"

Still, Xander had to frown at him. "Spike, you like shrimp. Why would you want to go there?"

Spike shrugged. "Figure there's got to be a huge bloody shrine to a certain demoness who sent half the population there. Thought it'd be fun to bring her back pictures."

Xander considered it briefly, then nodded. "Possibly. I think it's somewhere in the maybe pile anyway. Anya says they have a great waterslide park. And it's open at night." He picked up another brochure. "Or we could go to Oz."

A Spike-blink. Slow, and full of eyelash. "Um, the prison, or the wolf?"

Xander blinked, himself. "I'm going with a big 'no' on the prison, and the wolf is coming to the wedding, but not on the honeymoon. The Emerald City, dingwad."

"What emerald city?"

Now Xander was *really* blinking. "We're off to see the wizard?"

Another Spike-blink, and for god's sake, he was serious. "Chaos bloke?"

"Spike, you're a hundred and thirty-three years old and you've never read, or *seen* the Wizard of Oz? It's on TV every freakin' year!" Xander's mouth had fallen open, and Spike took the opportunity to try sticking his tongue into it, but Xander batted him away, still unable to wipe the surprise from his face.

"What?" Spike pouted for a moment, then sighed. "Never saw it. Dru was afraid of what's her name. With the red shoes."

"The Wicked Witch of the East?"

"Dunno. Never saw it, did I? Dru always made me take her into a room with no TVs, whenever it was on. Sorta got out of the habit of thinking about it...."

Xander shook his head. "God, Spike, you've gotta see it! There's... munchkins, and this tin guy who wants a heart, and a scarecrow who wants a brain, and... a girl with dark hair who thinks she's in charge..." He blinked again. "Never let Cordy know I said that. Ever."

Now Spike was staring at him like *he* was the insane one. "Huh?"

"Well... Angel got the heart, and Wesley got the brain, and Gunn always had the courage, and... No. Too scary. Let's look at something else. I'll dig out the tape for you later."

Spike just shrugged, as if he truly didn't care, one way or the other. "Whatever, so, they can send us to an emerald place. What else have you got?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to argue that there was more to it than an emerald place. There were winged monkeys, for instance, and he knew Spike would get a kick out of those. But Spike showing an *interest* in the brochures was more important than arguing over one particular place. For the moment. "Um...lessee. There's Cleveland."

"Oo, yeah! Always loved Cleveland." Then Xander got hit on the head with a handful of brochures.

"Okay, okay. How about... Oh, God, he's gotta be kidding."

"What? Who's kidding?" Spike leaned over, and Xander suddenly realized the likely reason Spike was finally interested. Spike was lying practically on *top* of him. Snuggling in. Wriggling.

Xander sighed. It wasn't that he didn't *enjoy* wriggling and snuggling. It was just that they tended to lead to other things. Which he also enjoyed. They *didn't* tend to lead to making an informed, rational choice about where to go on their honeymoon. "Giles. This came out of the pile he gave me. 'Drakulon.' "

"What!" Spike grabbed the brochure out of his hands, and began reading. Soon he was chortling gleefully. "Oi, listen to this: tour package includes razing a village!"

Xander snatched it back. "Yeah, yeah, rivers run with blood, hot winged vampire chicks, blah, blah. I think not." Spike started in with the lip, and Xander shook his head. "Uh-uh. No way. Have you seen the way those girls dress?"

And here came the 'you've lost your mind' look. "Er, yeah? And your point is?"

Xander tapped the picture of the scantily clad vampiress on the cover. "I want you looking at *me*, not her."

Spike blinked, as if surprised by the notion. Then he shrugged -- or wriggled again, Xander wasn't sure. "Yeah? So, you're the one who didn't wanna stay home. If all you want is me looking at you, and, er, other things, we could just stay home." Wriggle.

Xander sighed again. "I want you looking at me, while we go do something fun far away from everyone who wants to kill you. Granted, since that's everyone who's ever met you, it might be hard to find someplace, but that's the point of the extradimensional ones." He wriggled back, just a little.

"Not *everyone* who's ever met me, wants to kill me." Spike pouted, just a little. The subtle, 'you've really hurt me this time' pout. Except it was *actually* the 'I want you to think you've really hurt my feelings so you'll kiss me and shag me and make me feel better' pout. "M' very lovable, once you get to know me." There was a hand on Xander's butt.

"What, in the biblical sense?" Xander teased. "Yeah, but how many people know you that well?" He started to count in his head, and realized he probably shouldn't have asked. He picked up another brochure. This one had scenes of gingerbread houses on it. "Hey, this one's actually in this dimension. Brothers Grimm World. You can eat your fill of stupid children, who are actually lifelike, blood-filled robots."

There was a soft, sad sigh from behind him. Xander braced himself to hear something like 'It's not the same'. Instead, Spike said, "Yeah, reckon you and Dru are the only ones who ever loved me."

He turned his head to look at Spike's face, wondering if it was another 'poor pitiful me, I need to be shagged until I can't walk in order to forget my troubled past' attempt, but no. Spike looked completely serious. "You think Angel doesn't love you?"

"But he still tries to kill me, sometimes." There was the faintest flash of gold in Spike's eyes.

Xander blinked at him. "Spike, he wasn't really trying to kill you in the pool. You know that, right?"

Spike looked at him, and seemed to take a second to focus. "Pool?" Then his eyes cleared. "You mean when he tried to drown me? Bloody hell, course he wasn't trying to kill me. He knows I don't drown." He leaned closer, wriggling incidentally, and whispered, "Don't have to breathe, ya know."

Xander took a deep breath for both of them, and replied, "I know, Spike. Well, what do you mean by Angel still tries to kill you, then? You know he's not serious."

"Well, maybe not in the last couple of years." Spike snuggled in again, and Xander could no longer see his face. Not without flipping Spike onto his back, and lying on him.

Which would *not* get them any closer to choosing a honeymoon destination. Still... "You mean way back when? Party-time Angel? Did he really try to kill you? I remember something about you hitting him over the head with a crowbar, but--"

Spike shook his head; Xander could feel him moving against his shoulder. "Doesn't matter, Xander. Don't need the great poof showering me with declarations of unhate, or demanding I not walk about naked so's anyone can see me."

Xander thought about that for a minute, and snuggled in a little himself. "You want *me* to demand you not walk around naked? I didn't think it would work, so I never tried."

"No, want you to demand I walk around naked. So you can shag me without havin' to go through the whole 'tearing his shirt off' bits." There was silence, then Spike said, "He was never like that with me. Angel loves me the way he loved Darla. I was part of his life for a long time, and he got used to me. Feels responsible for me. He never *loved* me."

"He did..." And Xander realized he couldn't speak for the Angel of then. Maybe he didn't. "He does now. And I *like* tearing your shirt off. Makes it all the more fun to get at what's underneath, if you have to go through a bit of work for it."

"But you haven't bought me another blue silk shirt, to replace the one you ripped last week." Pouting, again, but this was just a dare to point out that Spike had hated the shirt. Specifically, hated the flamingos on the back, pockets, and sleeves. Spike's hand slipped somewhere that was making it difficult for Xander to remember why they were talking.

"You don't even...gah. Mmm. Spike!" Xander rolled away a bit. "You wanna walk around naked for two weeks straight? Pick someplace." He handed Spike a random pile of brochures.

Spike blinked. "Thought you wanted me to shag *you*."

Yes, because *Xander* had been the one putting his hands in interesting places, and... was it even worth arguing about? "I do. Later. Now I want you to help me pick a place for the honeymoon." Or maybe they could do that later? No. Xander was trying to be *good*, here. Give the folks outside an answer, so they could do all their big magicky reservation thingies.

"But if I have to walk around for two weeks, straight...."

Xander rolled his eyes, reached over, and smacked Spike on the ass. "Oh, so funny. You're so bent, you make Ethan Rayne look like a ruler." He tapped on the brochures in Spike's hand. "Honeymoon."

"He's not the one who's gonna send us off, is he? Not that I don't trust him, but I don't trust him." Spike wriggled. "Smack me again?"

Xander frowned at him. "No. To both questions. Pick a place. Pick three, and we can argue over them, instead of arguing over why you don't want to go at all." He frowned again, and looked closer at Spike. "Why don't you want to go at all?"

Another wide-eyed 'who, me' look. "Why do I have to pick?" he asked, sounding put-upon.

Xander countered with 'why me, lord, why do I have to be in love with the world's second most insane vampire?' "You don't *have* to pick. I just want you to feel like you had some say in it." Mostly so Spike wouldn't whine when they got there about how he'd rather be somewhere else. It was a lost cause, of course, but Xander had to keep trying. "And I want you to have a good time."

"Well, all I need to have a good time is you, lots of lube, and some blackberries. And whipped cream. All right, someplace with a grocery store." Spike waggled an eyebrow. "Someplace that has cucumbers."

Xander blinked. "Right here, in other words." He ignored the sight of Spike nodding happily. "Spike, we're going away. Somewhere. If there's some *reason* you don't want to go away, tell me. Otherwise, help me pick a place where we can do all those things, and have some non-horizontal fun, too."

Spike pouted, then when Xander just kept looking at him, sternly, he sighed. Reached over and grabbed a brochure without even looking. "Here."

"Um...Alaskan Summer Tours? Spike, I think this was Cordy's idea of a joke." He continued to look at Spike, wondering if there was anything going on inside Spike's skull, or if they could use it as an extra tank to keep the Piranha in.

"So? We'll be inside, shagging. Who cares if it's sunny?" Spike looked at him, but after a moment his gaze slid away.

With a sigh that was less exasperated now than just concerned, Xander moved closer, and put an arm around Spike. "What's wrong? Why don't you want to leave?" Spike still wasn't looking at him, so he touched one high cheekbone with his other hand. "Spike?"

Spike's eyes flicked towards him. "You really think he loves me?"

"I...huh? Who, Angel? Of course he loves you. Wouldn't he have killed you by now, if he didn't love you?" Xander said it as lightly as possible. Spike in a sincerely morose mood meant either long, slow lovemaking to cheer him up, which was not necessarily a bad thing, but didn't get a honeymoon destination picked out, or a couple of hours of Spike staring out the window and twitching his fingers because he desperately wanted one of the cigarettes he didn't smoke anymore, for Xander's sake.

Spike sniffed. "Hasn't killed Wallace, either. Doesn't mean he loves the bloke." Wallace was the guy who brought coffee, donuts, and packets of blood every morning, to the office.

Xander rested his chin on Spike's shoulder. "Yeah, but Wallace isn't nearly as annoying as you are, Spike. *Nobody's* as good at pissing people off as you. Not even Anya."

"Yeah, hence us havin' to go away for our honeymoon." Spike sounded vaguely amused. But he also wriggled closer to Xander.

"Yeah. Sort of. Except it's really just about going away and having a lot of fun, so we can come back and feel like everything's different, because we're married."

Spike quirked an eyebrow at him. "Is that what it's for? Thought it was just so we wouldn't annoy 'em with all the noise we're gonna make."

"Well, that too, but c'mon-- we make that much noise all the time." He gave Spike his best 'don't bullshit me' look. It only worked about half the time, depending how pouty or devilish Spike was feeling, but it was one of the better looks in Xander's arsenal.

"Bet I can make you make *more* noise than usual," Spike said, leaning closer. "Wanna try it now?"

Xander abandoned 'Don't bullshit me,' and went straight for 'I'm so hurt that you can't trust me with your innermost feelings.' This involved making his eyes really big, sucking slightly on his own bottom lip, and meaning it, just a tiny bit. "Spike?"

"Oh for..." Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine. You wanna go on this honeymoon -- that is, go *away*, because everyone here can't wait to be rid of me. Now I'm supposed to ask those same spell-casting, can't stand me blokes -- and bints -- to send me someplace, and would they please bring me back in two weeks, without any pieces missing? You, I trust 'em with. And I'm not saying they'd do it deliberately--" Spike stopped, and looked thoughtful. "Well, one of 'em might. Claim it was an accident." He paused again, and when Xander tried to un-gape his mouth and respond, Spike added, "Might let Wes do it. Long as he isn't drunk."

Xander rolled half-away again, so he could get a decent look at Spike's face. "You really think they don't *like* you? I mean yeah, you annoy them, but you do it for fun, and they all know it. You think Wes, Gunn, Angel and Cordelia only put up with you for my sake? Spike, *you're* the one who got invited to live here in the first place. By Angel, the guy you think doesn't love you. I just came along for the ride. 'Cause my apartment would've seemed pretty empty without you and your spoiled fish-children."

"Mr. Harris, are you saying you're in love with me?" Spike sounded positively smug. If it weren't for the fact that Xander knew Spike could fake his way into anything, he'd have believed that was the end of the emotional crisis. Or the end of the ploy to get Xander to shag him silly. "Hey, we never talked about who was takin' whose name!"

Xander played along, for the moment. "You want me to be Alexander the Bloody?"

"No, I--" Then Spike's eyes were losing focus. Edging towards gold, again, and Xander could smell the arousal exuding from his lover. He told himself he did *not* want to know what Spike was thinking. Did not. Absolutely... though there were a couple of brochures to places that would actually accommodate that sort of thing. Drakulon, for one. He wasn't ready, quite, to explore how little squinchiness the thought actually produced. No. Put it away for later.

"Alexander Jones?" No immediate answer, so he tilted his head and smiled. "Alexander yes I'm so in love with you that you can call me anything you want?"

Spike's grin got even broader. "An' I can be 'Spike Harris'." His grin vanished. "Er, no. Sorry." His grin reappeared a moment later, and he seemed to be holding back laughter. "Got an idea. We can both change our names to 'Summers'. Think Joyce'd like it?"

Xander couldn't help grinning himself. "Yeah, she'd love it, but it would annoy the hell out of Buffy." He held up a hand to forestall the inevitable 'And the problem with that is?' He pretended to think deeply on the matter. "You wanna be Alexander and Spike Giles?"

"Ooo.. can we?" Spike wriggled, happily. Or else he was losing patience again with not-shagging. "Reckon I'd have to be 'William' again, though, so it'd sound all proper. William Andrew Richard Giles. And no, made those up, sorry." Spike's eyes were still glowing, though, like he intended to go through with it, just to see the look on everyone's face. Which was just *so* unusual for Spike.

*****