"Duh. Like I don't know your middle name is Abelard." Xander rolled his eyes. "Well, Giles would like it. Possibly. But I'd have to change all my business cards. What's wrong with Spike Harris?"

Spike was having some trouble with his jaw. Moving it up and down, never quite getting it to shut completely. Finally he managed, "My middle name is *not* Abelard! Who told you such a thing and how could you believe him over *me* when I said my middle name was 'John'?" And 'Spike Harris' makes me sound like I'm kept, or something."

Xander wasn't quite sure which one to answer first. "Um... Dru told me your middle name was Abelard, and she never lies. She might've hallucinated it, but she wouldn't lie about it."

"Yeah? Well, it isn't. So you can just forget she ever said it. It's 'John'. Spike John Bloody. And you can just change *your* name to Bloody." Spike's eyes lost a little focus, again. "Er, Xander...?"

"The Bloody? No." Xander looked resolutely away from Spike's eyes, because they were causing his own to lose focus as well, and he just wasn't *ready* to explore that particular vampiric fantasy. Or maybe he wasn't ready to ask himself how ready he was. "And you *are* a kept man. I'm keeping you."

"Yeh, but that doesn't mean I want everyone I show my library card to, knowing that I'm bein' kept. I've got *some* pride."

He smiled at Spike. "I meant, I'm keeping you. Forever."

All the mischievous teasing flew out of Spike's eyes. "Er. Um. Oh yeah?" Spike's attempt to counter-taunt fell flat. Adorably flat, Xander had to admit, because when Spike looked like he'd been hit with a fish, he just...looked adorable. Maybe because no one but he, and possibly Dru, had ever seen him *quite* so flummoxed. "Er, uh. Grr."

"Yeah. Grr to you too." Xander bent his head close and bit Spike on the nose, not very hard. Then he said, "I don't care what name we take, but I want it to be the same one, so everybody'll know you're mine. 'K ?"

Spike growled again, and nudged Xander's chin with his nose. Then he nudged Xander's mouth with his chin. Just like a cat, only instead of 'scratch me' he was saying 'bite me again so you can shag me'. "Grr. Ah. Don' wanna call yer old man 'pop'."

"Okay, no Giles, then. You wanna both be Jones? And don't say the B-word again."

Spike blinked at him very slowly. Honestly confused. "Which 'B' word? An' I didn't mean Rupes. Call *him* Pop. Father dear, if he'd rather."

"He'd have an infarction. Okay, you mean him. The other guy. You don't have to call him anything. I don't." Hadn't called him in years, and wasn't planning to. Even to tell him his son was getting married. So there. "But if that's why you don't like Harris, how about LaVelle? It was my mom's maiden name." He was *not* going to explain about the b-word. Explaining it would mean saying it, and Spike's eyes would go all funny again, the avoidance of which was the whole point of telling him not to say it in the first place.

"Really? It's not some crazy aunt's name that your mum wanted to name you after?" Spike nudged him, again, bumping Xander's chin a tad more forcefully.

Xander gave a resigned little pff-sigh, and bit him on the nose again. Then, "No, at least not according to my Mom's parents, who ought to be able to remember their own last name." Them, he had called, once he'd tracked them down, and they'd been delighted with the news. Well, with the marriage news. He hadn't quite figured out how to break the vampire news, just yet.

"MM.. rrowr." Spike wriggled again, a bit more slowly. More writhingly. Presented Xander with a jaw to bite. When Xander didn't bite right away, he raised his head enough to look at him. "Spike LaVelle. Hmm. Yeah, actually, that has a ring to it. Enough to strike fear in the hearts of stenographers everywhere."

Xander winced a little. "Actually, hearing it out loud, it makes you sound like a porn star. A crushed-velvet and low lighting because of the cheap sets nineteen-seventies porn star." Which of course would do *so* much to dissuade Spike from taking the name.

"Yeah? You'd rather I were 'Spike Wyndham-Pryce'?" Then Spike chuckled. "Angel and Gunn would shit bricks if they heard that...can we go tell em? After you finish biting me, which, by the way, you stopped doing why?"

Xander dutifully nibbled on Spike's jaw, while he thought about it. Spike Wyndham-Pryce. He snerked, right into Spike's neck, when that thought led him to the next obvious one. He pulled back a little, and tried to say it without cracking up. "Spike...heh..heh. no, wait, I can do this." He took a deep breath, and Spike covered Xander's mouth with his own. After a moment, Xander laughed again. "Not nice. Well, okay, nice, but not fair. Spike Gunn?"

Spike managed an offended look. "You think he wouldn't let me take his name?" Then Spike was laughing right along with him. "Oi! If you be Alexander Wyndham-Pryce, an' I can be Spike Gunn... heehee... Angel'd swallow his hairgel."

"We can be detecting partners. You're like Mike Hammer, only you'll only have sex with me, instead of every woman who walks into the office, and I'll be like... um..." He couldn't think of any wimpy, Wyndham-Prycey type detectives. Except the original, who wasn't really all that wimpy anymore.

"Jacques Clouseau?"

Xander blinked. "The underwater explorer guy?"

Spike whapped him on the ass. "Who's the bloody philistine now? Jacques Clouseau, from the Pink Panther movies. Tell me you haven't seen 'em, and I'll bite you."

Decisions, decisions. He *had* seen them, but... "Tell you what-- bite me first, then I'll tell you whether I've seen 'em." Anyway, he wasn't the Inspector Clouseau type. If he wanted to find something, he could find it. He'd found Spike once while he was hiding behind the cucumber rack in the grocery store, for instance, merely by the fact that one of the cucumbers *really* didn't look right.

"Hm. Sounds fair." Spike leant over and bit him.

"Ow!" Xander whapped Spike on the head, then rubbed his ass. Which obviously didn't hurt too much, or Spike's chip would have gone off, but he had to at least go through the motions of protesting. Why, he wasn't sure, since he was kind of hoping Spike would do it again. "Yes, I've seen them, and no, I'm not Inspector Clouseau. Or even Inspector Wydham-Pryce. Oh well. We'll think of something." He reached underneath Spike, which elicited a *lot* of wriggling, and pulled out several colorful brochures. God only knew which pile was the maybe pile, anymore. They'd have to go through them all. "What about EuroDisney?"

"You're a what?" Spike looked at the brochure Xander had pulled out. "Is *that* what you were after?" He pouted the 'you don't want to shag me' pout. Number 16. Which Xander did. Sooner than later. But they had to at least make an *attempt* to go through these things, so he could tell everybody at dinner that they were still discussing it, and not have to lie.

"EuroDisney, Spike. It's in France. They have teacups."

"You want teacups?" And, frighteningly enough, Spike didn't sound like he was marrying a complete loon. He just sounded surprised, like Xander had told him after four years that he liked Irish oatmeal better than cream of wheat.

Xander shook his head. "Big teacups. You can ride in 'em. They go around in circles."

"Do they?" *Now* he sounded like he did whenever Dru said...well, anything.

"So I'm guessing any place that sells Mickey Mouse ears is right out, then?" Xander pouted at him, just a little. Not that he really wanted to go to EuroDisney; he just liked getting Spike on the defensive.

"Do they also have large plastic tarps?"

"Do they..." Actually, if they were anything like Disneyland, they did. For when it rained. But he really didn't want to know why Spike wanted to know. He really, really... "Why?" It was like passing the scene of an accident and not stopping to get out and help. He just couldn't stop himself.

"So we don't have to listen to whoever's paying for this, bitch about paying for carpet cleaning. When I strip you down and slather you with blood."

Oh, now, there, Spike had gone and said it, and now he had to think about it, and... And the thought of Spike licking *anything* off him, even blood, made him want to roll over and let Spike do whatever he wanted, right *now*. Xander tried to clear his head, but it wasn't working very well. "Um... would you wear the Mickey Mouse ears?"

"Yeah. Not Pluto, though. Don't like those flappy Pluto ears. No Minnie ears, but we could bring 'em back for Princess." There was a pause while Spike licked Xander's cheek. "And poof. Think Wes and Gunn would want Mickey or someone else's ears?"

But Xander was still seeing Spike in Mickey Mouse ears. And nothing else. "Uh...um. Possibly. What was the question?"

"We going to the one here, and if so, how are we gonna stay in the park all night so no pile of ashes on the plane home, or is there someplace else we're going? And I can't reach your neck properly."

"What?" Xander had pretty much missed everything but the last part. He rolled closer and lifted his head so Spike could do whatever it was Spike wanted to do with his neck, and tried to decipher the rest. "No, not the one here, promised at least eight hours away. The Euro one has a hotel on the grounds, and it's open late. I'll...put it in the maybe pile." Except the maybe pile had been demolished, so Xander stuck it down the front of his jeans. That was a pretty safe place, at least for a few minutes.

Few seconds. Spike's hand went after the brochure and pulled it out. "Who's a bad brochure?" he asked it. "Reckon one of 'em can find a nice dimension where Disney World is open at night? Or," and he paused to nibble, "Should we just make them buy the park for a week and make 'em stay open?"

Xander was busy reacting to the aftereffects of Spike's hand, but he managed a "N...No. Um..." After a few more seconds, "Um. Buying the park would cost more than *David* has. Might ask about the dimension thing. Or... What about...um..." He couldn't think properly with Spike's hand where it was *now*.

"What about what?" Spike asked, and it was his Evil Spike voice. Because Spike was doing things with his hand, and with his tongue, and the tips of his fangs. And he knew Xander couldn't answer questions under these conditions, except possibly 'Do you want your jeans off?'

"Yes." Oh. Shit. Spike hadn't actually asked that question. Um... "Um..." Xander tried to make his brain-muscles work, when every other muscle in his body wanted to take over. "What about Transylvania?"

"They have roller coasters?" Spike asked, sounding like an eight-year old. Not wet, no lolly -- yet, but once Xander's jeans came off -- but otherwise, eight.

"Um..." Yes, that was his word-of-the-day. He'd been living with this man for how long, and a few well-placed licks and nibbles and strokes, and he was reduced to "Um." This didn't bode well for a captain of industry, even when his particular industry catered to horny demons. As did he, at the moment. "No. Well, maybe. But they have all kinds of vamp history. Dracula's supposed to be from there, right?"

There was a snerk in his ear. "Yeah, if you believe the press releases. D'you mean in this dimension? Or is there someplace where Transylvania is the name of a pleasure planet?" Spike bit his ear, and sucked.

"Uhhh...maybe, if you believe the Rocky Horror Picture Show." Xander giggled suddenly. "Oh God. Did I tell you about Giles?"

"Mmm?" Spike let go of Xander's ear. "You know something good about Giles? Rocky Horror...wait, don't tell me. He dressed up as Janet?"

Xander couldn't help it. he tittered. "Oh no. Worse. He *played* Frank. On stage." There was no responding laughter. Xander looked over to find Spike merely looking slightly puzzled. "What? And why did you let go of my ear?"

"What's wrong with playing Frank? It's a good part. An' he's got the legs for it. Ow! All right, not that I've ever looked." Pout number twelve.

Xander stared at him. "What's *wrong* is that it was *Giles.* In high heels, a corset, and fishnet stockings."

"Yeah? Bet he was--- oh. Oh." There was a short silence. Then he was tittering. "Oh, bloody hell. Please, if you love me, tell me you have pictures...."

"I love you. And Wesley has pictures. Which he promised me copies of."

"Oo! What do we owe him?" Spike bounced a little, which made Xander feel very happy. Made him want to make Spike bounce, more, just like that. With his hand right there....

"Ah.. that would be me taking you away for two weeks." Hence the honeymoon brochures spread all over the floor that were about to be completely ruined. Xander smiled, doing his best to convey 'Please don't hurt me in any way you're not already doing right now this minute.'

But Spike was sitting up -- moving away from him. Hey! "Why didn't you *say* so?" Spike shoved Xander onto his side, which was promising, until Spike just pawed through the brochures. "Here. This one. Go away for two weeks, come back rested and pale." Spike held the brochure out, not seeming to realize he was holding Xander propped up, with a hand on Xander's buttock. Xander squirmed a bit, and Spike *squeezed*, so maybe he realized, after all.

Xander looked at the brochure-- it was the one for Oz. "Yeah, sounds good, put it down, shag me now." Then he noticed the asterisk on the front. "Wait, turn that over." Or turn me over, or something. Spike obliged by doing both, and Xander was lying on his stomach again. Looking at the back of the brochure. "Oh, shit. No, definitely no."

"Er? What *now*?" Spike grabbed the brochure out of Xander's hands and read it. Read it again. Read it apparently a third time, sounding out the words -- Xander watched his mouth move, and could clearly lip-read the small print on the brochure. "This reality is rated G. No adult activities of any kind. Thank you." Spike looked up at him. "Who gave us this one?" he growled.

Xander shrugged. Probably Buffy, but who could be sure? "Not a clue." Or had it been Ethan? No, Ethan had only handed him one brochure and that was for a place that even *Spike* would be afraid to go into.

"Ah. Well, remind me to snarl at all of 'em, later." He quickly looked over the brochures, again, but this time his hands stayed on Xander. Strayed on Xander, actually. Xander considered protesting that Spike's attention didn't seem to be wholly on his task -- but decided Spike *might* just let go of him, to search through the brochures. And he'd been the one thinking he wanted to study them, rather than have sex? Spike froze, slightly, then reached over and picked up a brochure.

"If we went to Knott's Berry Farm, I could smear jam all over you," Xander said off the top of his head, waiting for Spike to show him the flyer.

"Not far enough away, remember. Look at this." It had a picture of a woman in nineteenth century clothing on the front, and it read 'Victoria ad infinitum.' Xander raised one eyebrow, and Spike opened the tri-fold page. "Come to a world where the sun never set on the British Empire. Where Oscar Wilde is still publishing new works of literature, and Her Majesty reigns in her second century of glorious undeath." Spike's finger moved to one of the smaller pictures, depicting a street of homes. They looked...old and English, was all Xander could think of to describe them. Intriguing, though. "I grew up in a house like this one."

Xander nodded, not sure whether to ask further, or let Spike wander. He didn't talk about his human life, much, and Xander didn't want to push him into clamming up.

"Don't reckon I can take you home to meet my parents, but maybe I can at least show you the sorts of places I used to go." Spike's voice was rather subdued, as if doing so might not be as pleasant a memory as it should have been. But he was looking at the photos with an expression Xander recognized. Xander leaned over and kissed Spike on the temple. Spike wrinkled his nose at him, smiling. "Better warn you bout the ale, though...."

Xander grinned. "I've got that anti-intoxication charm Wesley made for me." Not that it was working very well at the moment. He smiled back at Spike, and nodded. "Okay. We'll go to Vamps-Rule-Victorian-England World. But you'll have to protect me."

Spike moved in, until he was a mere breath's space away. Deep, earth-swallowing blue eyes stared at him. A finger touched Xander's cheek, traced a long, slow line down. "Always." Spike kissed him. Xander whimpered. Then the finger and lips and knee left, and Spike asked, "Can we stop at Disney World on the way back?"

Xander whimpered again, louder. "Yes. Disney World. Or maybe on the way there. I wanna see you in Victorian clothes and Mickey Mouse ears." And come back here, dammit. Then he opened his eyes wide. "Spike?"

"What? And we can do that now, you know. Live in L.A. - there's Disney shops and costume places everywhere."

"Yeah, but I want the Victorian vampire people to see you too. Um, Spike?"

"Fine. Do we need three weeks, then? What can we make Wes give us?" Spike started to grin. "And the rest of 'em - you wanna blackmail them, or should I?"

Xander shook his head. "Don't care. You do it. You'll have more fun anyway. Or... Spike, will you...umm" He reached out and touched Spike's hair, looking. Just looking.

"Will I what?" Spike asked, gently. Leaned closer to kiss him. Didn't, yet. Just held himself almost close enough to.

"Will you grow your hair out? Just for the honeymoon. Just, y'know, so you'll fit in." And so he could run his fingers through it, and so he could finally see what Spike's natural color was, if it didn't match his eyebrows or the rest of his hair. Mostly the finger-running-through, though.

Spike raised an eyebrow at him. "Grow my hair out? Yeah, if you want me to." And he finally kissed him. Nibbled a bit. "Not bleached, too?"

Xander smiled. "Please?" As in 'Please grow your hair out unbleached, please kiss me some more, please do any damn thing you want with me...'

"Right, then, now that all *that* is settled," Spike whispered as he moved along Xander's neck, almost-not-quite touching, though Xander could feel him, anyway. He shivered, not moving, so as not to make Spike touch him before he was ready to stop torturing him. Finally, a lick, right at the base of the back of his neck. Then, "Er, Xan?" It was the 'I'm cute you love me you don't want to slay me' voice.

"Ye-esssss?" Which was the 'you're cute, I love you, don't make me slay you before you shag me' voice.

"When 'sactly is the wedding?"

Was that all? "I don't know. Ask Cordelia. Later." A pause, then Spike's tongue was right back where it belonged, and Xander was squirming, wondering if he'd survive until the wedding, anyway.

Then Spike's tongue was gone again, and Xander was considering vampire-slayage. "Is that 'it's later, don't know when, go ask Cordelia', or 'don't know, ask Cordelia later, right now shag me'?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Spike looked at him for a second. "Well, I suppose I could...." Spike moved away from him, sliding a bit on the brochures. Before Xander could yell at him that he was about to forego sex for a month if he even got *near* the door, Spike stopped. His face was right next to Xander's groin. Then there was a zipping sound and a yelp from someone whose warm happy gonads were suddenly exposed to the cold air -- followed by a second yelp when said 'nads were engulfed.

The end