*****

"So, here we are again."

Xander grunted with effort and disgust as he pulled the ropes on Spike's chair tighter.

"Really," continued Spike, conversationally, "you're making this too hard on yourself."

"Yeah, well, I like it better this way."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Why, Xander," he said, feigning shock, "I had no idea you were so kinky."

"Oh, shut up," said Xander, blushing.

To Xander's surprise, Spike actually complied with this request... momentarily. Xander moved around in front of Spike to check the last knots while Spike just sniffed the air lightly and grinned to himself, casting a sidelong glance at the front of Xander's boxer shorts.

Xander finally finished with Spike's restraints and walked over to his bed, immediately collapsing on it, facing away from Spike.

Spike rolled his head back and sighed heavily.

Xander stiffened but refused to move.

Spike looked up to see this, frowned slightly, and tried again, sighing even more deeply.

"What," said Xander impatiently, without turning over or even moving at all.

"It's just not fair."

Xander sat up and turned around with an expression of extreme annoyance. "What's not fair, Spike? You killing hundreds, thousands of people and living to tell about it? You making it your sole purpose to destroy all my friends and then expecting us to protect you? Forgive me if my heart doesn't bleed for you."

"Hey, I didn't ask for this. And you would use that metaphor just when I'm hungry."

"Shut up, Spike," said Xander, turning away. "I'm not interested."

Spike grinned. "Liar."

"What?" asked Xander, sharply, spinning back around.

"Look, I'm just asking you to give a friend a break," said Spike, reasonably.

"Friend?" repeated Xander, with disbelief. "Friend? Has Giles been lacing your blood with something?"

"You don't consider me a friend?" asked Spike, somewhat offended.

"No," replied Xander, bewildered.

"But we've got such history together."

"Yeah, but it's not friend-history; it's more like mortal-enemy-history."

"Some of my best friends are mortal enemies."

"I am not having this conversation," said Xander, shaking his head and turning back around.

"Fine, I'll just stay in the chair while you sleep in the nice, comfortable bed. All by yourself."

Xander made an annoyed sound like a grunt. After a moment he turned around and glared wearily at Spike. "If I untie you, you promise to behave and... _shut_ _up_?"

"Scouts honor." Spike looked as innocent as he could.

"You weren't in the scouts."

"What do you want me to say?" asked Spike, sarcastically. "Cross my heart and hope to die?"

"Never mind," said Xander, getting up from the bed and walking over to Spike. "You sure you won't bite me?" he asked, hesitating cautiously before starting on the knots.

"I would, if I could," replied Spike in a conciliatory tone, "but I can't."

"Very reassuring," said Xander, reaching down to undo the knots anyway, then hopping backwards as the ropes fell and Spike stood.

"Ah," said Spike with a smile, stretching widely. "Much better."

Xander retreated to the other side of the bed. "Just don't run off in the middle of the night and kill my family, okay?"

"Like you wouldn't be tickled _pink_ if you found them all in a bloody mess tomorrow." Spike dropped down onto the bed, bouncing, and swung his feet up onto it.

"No, I wouldn't. Take off your boots."

Spike rolled his eyes dramatically but followed Xander's directions.

"Just because you don't get along with some people," continued Xander, cautiously sliding under the covers on his side of the bed, "doesn't mean you have to kill them."

"You humans have _no_ idea how to live," replied Spike, long-sufferingly, as he tossed his boots to the floor.

"Do you want to sleep in the bed or not?"

"Who could resist your moist deliciousness?" asked Spike, turning a mocking smile on Xander.

"Shut up." Xander turned away, lay down, and pulled the covers over, as if Spike weren't there at all.

"'I happen to be very biteable, pal,'" Spike mocked, unperturbed.

"Shut up." Xander's tone was clipped and percussive.

"All right, fine." Spike pulled his shirt off over his head and lay down. "Good night, nummy treat."

Xander jerked up and spun around, opening his mouth to send Spike back to his chair to be tied up... but the words caught in his throat when he saw Spike lying there beside him in nothing but his tight black jeans, eyes shut, a devilishly seraphic smile on his face. Long moments passed as Xander stared. Xander's eyes almost glazed as they slowly traveled over Spike's bare body... from his shoulders... down his arms... across his chest... down his tight stomach... to--

Xander recovered and shut his gaping mouth just in time to prevent himself from literally drooling over Spike, and turned back around.

"Good night, Spike," he muttered, spitting out the name like a curse.

And Spike, still lying peacefully beside him, grinned even wider.

"Hi, Xander," said Buffy, laying her tray on the table and sitting down, "what are you doing here?"

"Hey, Buff," replied Xander, unsurreptitiously stealing a carrot from her plate and blatantly crunching on it. "I'm stealing food. Another one of my new thrifty life tactics."

Buffy fixed a sickly sweet smile on him. "So how's Spike?"

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Touch_." He rolled his eyes and slumped back in his chair, shaking his head. "Great. It's fun having a roommate. A real growth experience."

"See? And you thought you were missing out, not going to college," said Buffy.

"Why bother when I can have a vampire in my basement?" replied Xander, more cheerily than he felt. "So how _is_ college life these days?"

"Still kinda reeling from the Riley revelation," said Oz.

Xander nodded sagely. "And how _is_ commando boy?" he asked, turning to Buffy.

"Fine," replied Buffy, shortly, turning her attention to her food.

"Just... fine?" asked Willow.

A reluctant smile began to grow on Buffy's face. "Good," she said, still not looking up from her plate.

"Good?" prompted Willow, raising her eyebrows and smiling broadly.

"Good," replied Buffy, finally looking up. "Not much of a chance yet for anything else. Still a little freaked."

"He's part of a secret demon-hunting project and _he's_ the one who's freaked?" asked Willow.

Xander shook his head. "It's all very X-Files. Layer upon layer of conspiracy, wild experiments performed without the knowledge or consent of an unwitting public, agents ineptly angsting their way through bizarre professional and personal relationships. Trust no one."

"It's just a secret project, not a conspiracy," said Buffy, slightly annoyed.

Willow nodded. "Yeah, it's not like Buffy runs around saying, 'Hi, I'm the slayer!'" she said with a little wave.

"So, nothing to worry about," agreed Buffy, smiling.

"Uh huh," said Xander, unconvinced. "I'll bet Riley was involved with the Cuban missile crisis _and_ President Kennedy's assassination. The truth is out there."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Xander," Willow protested, "he wasn't even born then."

"Can you really be sure of that?"

"Pretty young for his age if he was," said Oz.

"Xander..." Buffy began.

"Just be careful, is all I'm saying. So, has he taken you to see his bat cave, yet?"

Buffy sighed. "That's the thing about secrets, Xander. They're meant to be kept." She started crunching on one of her carrots.

There was a brief pause, and then Willow turned to Xander. "So what have you been doing out there in the real world?"

"Job hunting," replied Xander, leaning in enthusiastically. "I track 'em, stalk 'em, then move in for the kill."

"Any luck?"

Xander hesitated and his enthusiasm faded. "No one's ready to take on someone with my startlingly eclectic skill set."

"What exactly are your skills?" asked Buffy.

"They are many and they are varied," replied Xander. "And they are useless." He sighed and fell back in his chair, staring at the edge of the table. Oz handed him a sympathetic fry, and he munched on it somewhat dejectedly.

"Y'know," said Buffy, "it's kind of amazing that even in this tight job market, you can't find steady work."

"And it makes it _so_ much better when you rub it in like that."

Spike strolled through the door to Xander's basement room with an obnoxiously self-confident air of owning the place, while Xander somewhat nervously closed and locked the door behind them. Spike, stopping in the middle of the room and looking around, appeared to be about to criticize the decor when Xander suddenly spoke.

"Make sure you take your shir--boots off before you get into bed."

Spike turned slowly around, a surprised though not altogether pleasant smile on his face. "No tying me up tonight?" he asked, with a hint of disappointment belied by his grin.

"You wanna sleep in the chair?" asked Xander, gesturing. "Be my guest."

"Why this sudden... change of heart?" Spike's tone had an annoying tinge of mockery.

Xander sighed. "I'm tired of arguing with you. I just want to go to bed wi--" Xander suddenly froze and choked on his words. He exhaled exasperatedly and wandered off to his dresser. "I just want to go to bed," he concluded firmly, facing away from Spike as he unbuttoned his shirt. "To sleep," he added, hastily.

Spike, meanwhile, was grinning madly to himself as he sat on the edge of the bed and leisurely removed his boots. He waited, watching Xander carefully, until Xander had turned around before gradually pulling off his shirt. Xander was caught, spellbound for a moment, watching Spike pull the fabric up and over, revealing his pale bare torso. When Spike's head reappeared, Xander quickly turned away, but not before Spike caught his eye.

Xander tarried at his dresser, taking unusual care folding and sorting his clothes before nervously approaching the bed. Spike was lying there, once again surprisingly silent and peaceful.

Xander kept a wary eye on Spike as he slowly lowered himself into bed and pulled the covers over himself. Spike remained motionless. Xander lay there on his side for long minutes, staring at Spike, motionless himself, before his eyelids finally began to droop closed, and he slowly drifted off.

As soon as Xander's breathing became slow and regular, Spike's eyes cracked open and he cast a sidelong glance over at the boy. Trademark maddening grin spreading once again across his face, he slowly reached out towards Xander and carefully went to work....

*****
Part 2:

Xander awoke to a vague sensation of comfort. And an extreme sensation of arousal. Fighting his way into consciousness, he eventually managed to open a bleary eye. When it finally focused, both eyes immediately shot open.

"Spike?" he asked, his voice strained.

Spike stirred slightly, rubbing up against Xander's-- "Nummy?" Spike mumbled in response.

Xander was flustered for a moment, but quickly gathered his wits. "You're lying on my arm."

Spike finally opened his eyes, and glanced about, only mildly surprised by his position. "So I am. And your hand is lying on my chest... and your leg is tangled with mine...." Spike snuggled against Xander. "And your--"

"Spike!"

"--is grinding against my hip."

"Get off me!"

"You have to let go of me first."

"Gladly."

"Well, move then."

"When I'm good and ready."

Xander remained frozen. Spike just continued to grin at him.

"Any time now," he prompted.

Xander hesitated. "I just wanna be careful. Don't want you to try anything."

"Like what?"

"I dunno."

"Like this?" Spike suddenly moved his hand up to Xander's crotch. Xander instinctively pressed into the contact, then almost instantaneously leaped back and out of the bed, tumbling to his feet.

"Gah!" he exclaimed, with more anger than disgust. "Don't touch me!"

"You started it."

"I did _not_. Now get dressed. I'm taking you to Giles."

"That's right. Just put me back in my kennel for the day." Spike's grin had finally faded, replaced by a dismal glare into the distance.

"Spike, shut up. There's a good boy."

Spike shot Xander a deadly look and, frowning in frustration, shoved his boots on.

"Another week?!"

"It's just five more days, Xander. Then we'll alternate every other night."

"What?! Giles--"

"The burden has to be shared, Xander, and Buffy and Willow o-obviously can't have him in their residence, so it's up to you and me."

"_How_ did I get signed up for this?"

"I'm just asking you to do your part."

"Couldn't my part be something else? Book sorting, doughnut delivery, janitorial duty?"

"You already _do_ all those things."

Xander rolled his eyes and turned away. "Oh, yeah, I forgot," he spat sarcastically as he wandered a few steps, head hanging.

"I do realize it's an inconvenience...."

Xander turned back. "He's a serious crimp on my night life, Giles."

"And you think he's not, on mine," said Giles, casting Xander a look over his glasses.

Xander deflated. "Okay, fine, whatever." He raised his eyes and set a penetrating look on Giles. "Just know that I am _not_ happy about this," he said, firmly.

"Objection noted," Giles replied calmly, in a self-evident tone.

Xander spun about and left the room quickly. He trampled noisily down to the main room and looked about glumly, flinching and turning away when he found Spike staring at him, amused.

"I heard your little conversation with the ex-watcher. Don't you want me around anymore, Nummy?"

"Shut up. Just... shut up." Xander paced aimlessly for a moment, then headed towards the door. "I'm going job hunting."

"See you tonight!"

"I said shut up!" Xander slammed the door behind himself.

Moments later, Giles came down the stairs. He curiously picked up a mug he found lying on the end table and quickly put it down, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Spike, I thought I asked you not to leave mugs of blood lying around. This has... clotted."

"All right, all right," said Spike, as he got up and walked over to pick up the mug, "keep your hair on." He carried it back to the kitchen, muttering. "...what's left of it, that is."

Xander, grim and silent, sullenly stalked into his room, Spike following carelessly behind. Xander threw his keys down on his dresser with a violence that made Spike grin, and started to unbutton his shirt.

Spike, in no time flat, stripped down to his jeans, and lazily dropped on to what had become his side of the bed, waiting.

"So..." he began, casually, "any luck finding work?"

"No," Xander replied grimly. His movements as he put away his clothes quickly grew agitated. "Just... don't say anything."

"Just trying to make conversation."

"I don't want conversation," Xander said, turning around and walking over to the bed, avoiding Spike's eyes. "I just want--sleep." He sat down. "And silence. Tests show that silence promotes sleep."

"Really? I've always preferred the screams of the dying."

"That's because you're a sick and twisted evil fiend," replied Xander flatly, as he lay down and pulled the covers over himself.

"I believe that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Yeah, well, happy to remind you anytime," mumbled Xander, pulling the covers tighter.

Spike just clasped his hands behind his head and laid back with a satisfied sigh and smile. Long minutes passed in silence. Xander tried to keep still, but occasionally had to shift and squirm uncomfortably.

Spike sat up and turned to look down at Xander. "Trouble sleeping," he said, with a mockingly sympathetic tone.

"And more trouble when you're talking."

Spike clucked reprovingly. "Testy."

"I'm not taking lessons in politeness from you."

"That was a compliment."

"Shut up."

"I would if you'd stop tossing and turning."

"I am not! I'm just trying to get comfortable," protested Xander, writhing on the bed again.

"You're tense."

"You bet I'm tense."

"You need relief."

"What?"

"You want a wank."

Xander instantly sprang up and turned around. "What?" he exclaimed, nervously. "No, I don't."

Spike gave him a look. "I can smell it."

"I--" Xander began, then choked. He frowned angrily. "Just shut up and go to sleep," he said, turning back around and lying down.

"Oh, fine," said Spike, sarcastically. "You just load up the air with pheromones and then drift off."

"That's the plan. Except for the pheromones," added Xander, raising an admonishing finger.

"Cruel."

"I thought you'd approve."

This stymied Spike for a moment. "This is different," he explained. "It's left me all frustrated."

"_You're_ frustrated?"

"Of course, pheromone boy."

"You need a wank? Take it outside."

"Why? We've both got the same problem. Thanks to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just thought we could help each other out. Thought that was what you good guys did."

"Not with sex! Not that I'm thinking about sex. No."

"Oh, come on. You know you want to."

This made Xander sit up again and spin around. "Hey, just because I'm--not that I am--doesn't mean it's for you!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Denial springs eternal."

"I am _not_ in denial." Xander immediately flushed and looked away. When he turned back, he saw Spike unbuttoning his jeans. "Not... in... denial," he repeated, abstractedly, eyes captivated as Spike slowly pulled down the zipper, then slid the jeans down his hips. Xander's eyes widened as Spike's hard cock sprung free from the confines of the jeans, and he stared, mesmerized.

"Touch it." Spike's voice was a hissing whisper.

Xander moved nothing except his hand, reaching slowly across to grasp Spike's member. Spike grunted softly with satisfaction and reached his hand under the covers and Xander's boxers. Xander responded with a small sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan and leaned closer to Spike, still staring blankly down. His fingers moved gingerly, experimentally as he slowly began to stroke Spike's cock, still mesmerized in a kind of fearful wonder.

Spike began to move his own hand in Xander's shorts, and Xander suddenly collapsed atop Spike, teeth hanging on Spike's collarbone. Spike, inordinately pleased, was struck still for a moment before shivering slightly, prompting Xander to drag his mouth across and down Spike's chest, dragging his teeth and tongue along the way. Soon Xander was exploring Spike's torso with his mouth, tracing patterns with his tongue along and across the contours of the muscles as Spike began to... undulate beneath him.

Xander suddenly felt Spike's other hand on his near shoulder, turning him, pushing him gently, but insistently down. He opened his eyes and found himself staring directly at Spike's cock, mere inches from his nose.

He hesitated for only a moment, and then determinedly shut his eyes, opened his mouth, and took a deep breath... and then Spike's cock was in his mouth, and he was sucking. Spike grunted in approval, removing his hand from Xander's shoulder and tightening his grip on Xander's cock as Xander began to roll his tongue around and around.

Xander's tentativeness quickly melted away and he began to suck in earnest, bobbing his head up and down, teasing the sensitive spots with his tongue as he dragged it along the shaft and over the head. Spike's manipulations of his cock matched in increasing tempo and strength. Faster... harder...

And then Spike suddenly groaned and came, and Xander, surprised, swallowed instantly. All across his body, Spike's muscles tensed and flexed as he shot again and again. Spike's hand on Xander's cock gripped tightly, and suddenly Xander too was pushed over the edge, coming in his boxers.

Spike, finally finished, released Xander's cock and Xander collapsed against his chest, panting. Spike brought his hand up and wrapped his arm over Xander's shoulders, trapping him there.

As his breathing slowed, Xander's senses slowly returned to reality and he began to look around, increasingly nervous. He tried weakly to pull away, but Spike's embrace held him tightly, immovable.

Eventually, Xander gave up and relaxed against Spike's chest. "_Still_ more romantic than Faith," he mumbled, before drifting into the blackness.

Xander awoke in exactly the same position in which he'd fallen asleep, and again with a sensation of extreme arousal. Fingers threaded through his hair, idly caressing his head.

Xander remained frozen, hardly daring to breathe, as he rolled his eyes up to see Spike's face, still blank, deep in sleep. Xander let his eyes fall back to Spike's chest, and stared unseeing for a while, before coming to a decision.

He snuggled closer.

This roused Spike. The hand in Xander's hair vanished as Spike stretched his arm and let it fall away. Spike said nothing, merely lay there languidly.

Xander, once locked in a tight embrace, now found himself merely holding what was effectively a cold and disinterested pillow.

He tentatively let go and Spike immediately stood, snagged his jeans, and began to pull them on. Xander watched him nervously, biting his lip, until Spike turned about to grab his shirt and caught Xander's eye. The scornful smirk made Xander turn away. He left the bed and went to his dresser to change out of his stained boxers.

Xander fumbled again and again with his clothes, obviously distracted, the frown on his face growing ever deeper. Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.

"You ready yet?" asked Spike, impatiently. "It's bad enough being forced to muck about the watcher's place all day without getting crisped on the way over."

Xander quickly pulled on his shoes and stood. Spike, fists impatiently planted on his sides, was frowning at the posters on Xander's walls.

Xander looked at him nervously. "You... you won't tell them, will you?" His voice was quiet and strained.

Spike just scoffed, and a grin spread once again across his face as he turned around. "It's our little secret."

Xander nodded and turned away, leading Spike to the door.

"And secrets," he muttered to himself, "are meant to be kept."

And Spike, surreptitiously noting the dejected angle of Xander's head, grinned to himself... wider than ever.

Willow, her head buried in the broken landscape of books, binders, and papers piled on her desk, ignored the phone until the third ring, snatching the receiver up hastily.

"Hello?" she said, distractedly, not looking up from her work.

"Hey, Wills!" exclaimed Xander, with unnecessary enthusiasm. "How's it goin'?"

"Uh," said Willow, looking around her desk, "kind of academic-y at the moment."

"Oh," said Xander, his enthusiasm dampened. "That doesn't sound promising."

"Promising?"

"Um..." began Xander, hesitantly, "just wondering if, you know, there were any big hangs on campus tonight... frat parties, hall parties..."

"Buffy and I are kind of swamped tonight."

"Room parties?"

"It's this paper."

"Roundtable discussion groups? Live debates?"

"I--I don't know.... Xander, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," replied Xander, sullenly.

"Tonight's just not party night."

"Hey, that's okay," Xander said, cheerily. "There are, what, seven nights a week? I'm sure there'll be one soon that won't have a big, nasty paper... or a big, nasty demon."

Willow smiled. "We'll let you know."

"Thanks," said Xander, his tone suddenly dull again. "I'll let you get back to slaying that assignment."

"Okay," Willow said, uncertainly. "Bye."

Xander, looking defeated, opened the door and stepped aside to allow Spike to charge into the room, practically bouncing as he walked. Xander carefully closed and locked the door behind them both.

"I really need some blood."

Xander started nervously. "Well, don't look at me," he said, indignantly. "It's in the fridge. I just hope my mom doesn't find it."

"But wouldn't it be fun if she did?" Spike sauntered over to the fridge and pulled out a packet. "You got any Wheatabix?"

A look of disgust crossed Xander's face. "No," he said, with emphasis. "And I really don't want to know--" Xander stopped and shook his head. "I'm going to bed."

"Hey, wait up," exclaimed Spike, tearing open the packet and guzzling it.

Xander ignored him and slowly removed his clothes. Spike, already stripped to his jeans, was waiting for him on the bed when he was finished. A stray drop of blood trailed from the corner of the vampire's mouth. Xander frowned and crawled under the covers, lying on his side, turned away.

Spike's hands were immediately on him, caressing him, sliding under his shirt. "Come on, Nummy."

Xander shuddered. "No, Spike."

Spike was insistent. One hand trailed down into Xander's boxers and grabbed his already stiffening cock. "You know you want to," he whispered, giving it a tug.

Xander whimpered and relaxed into Spike's embrace. "No," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Spike ignored this completely and calmly continued his ministrations, pulling down Xander's boxers as he bit gently at Xander's shoulder.

Then, suddenly, Spike withdrew. Xander shivered with relief, but tensed immediately when he felt Spike return and run a lubed finger down the cleft of his ass. Xander froze, unable to move or even think, and the finger slowly, gently slid into him. Xander whimpered in protest, but pushed back against Spike's hand.

"That's it," said Spike, grinning, and working in a second finger alongside the first.

Xander just shut his eyes tightly and bit his lip.

And then Spike's fingers were gone. Xander's eyes shot open with fear, knowing what had to follow... and then it was there. Xander could feel Spike's hardness pressing against him, demanding entry. "No..." he whispered once more.

Spike grinned to himself as he pushed inside, making Xander gasp. He waited for a moment while Xander writhed weakly, and then continued to push forward.

Xander's breathing became harsh and irregular as he felt himself being filled, impossibly full. Ever time he thought it was done, Spike would slide in a little farther, a little deeper.

Finally, he felt Spike's pubes brushing against his ass, and almost heaved a sigh of relief. But then Spike reached around to grab Xander's cock, hard seemingly against his will. "No..." he protested again, even though the word had lost all meaning.

Spike just smirked and gave Xander's cock a tug as he began to slowly withdraw. Xander let out a long, soft moan, immediately stifled when Spike began to push in again.

Xander's senses began to blur, feeling only Spike's hand on his cock, Spike's teeth running along his shoulder, and Spike's cock deep inside him, no longer slowly sliding, but thrusting faster and faster...

And then Xander was coming and coming.... His ass clenched and Spike gasped, thrusting even faster before suddenly shoving deep inside and holding there as he filled Xander with his cool, slick come.

For a moment, they held there, motionless but for Xander's heavy, erratic breathing. Then Spike slowly withdrew and then released Xander from his tight hold, rolling back contentedly onto his pillow and letting out a long, satisfied sigh. Xander squirmed feebly, trying to move away, but soon found he lacked the energy. Giving up, he pulled the covers tightly over himself, as if they might shield him.

And as Spike drifted off, Xander whispered, so softly that even Spike could not hear, "Angel...."

And then he slipped gratefully into oblivion.

*****
Part 3:

There were several hesitant knocks at the door before it slowly creaked open and Xander poked his head inside. "Giles?" he called, uneasily.

"Nummy!" Spike exclaimed, merrily.

Xander turned and glared. "You." He grimaced and looked away with disgust for a moment, before looking back to ask, "Where's Giles?"

Spike rolled his eyes upwards. "Upstairs, somewhere. Looking for a book... something tedious like that." He grinned suggestively at Xander. "We've got a few minutes before he comes back down...."

Xander merely glared again, then turned away, stepped inside, shut the door, and quickly walked across the room to sit in on a couch as far from Spike as possible, sullenly staring at the floor. Spike watched Xander with amusement, looking almost as if he might start whistling at any moment.

Long, uncomfortable minutes later, Giles appeared on the stairway. "Xander," he said, pausing as he looked down into the room. "Good. You can take Spike with you now."

"Imagine my delight," Xander mumbled, too quietly for Giles to hear.

Spike snickered.

Giles, unheeding, walked to his desk and deposited two more large volumes upon it as he sat down.

Xander turned and watched him work for a moment before asking, in a hopeful-yet-hopeless tone, "Need any help there, G-man?"

"Simply routine research," said Giles dismissively, not even looking up as he searched through one of the large, leather-bound volumes.

"Just the sort to while away a pleasant evening with."

"That's correct," agreed Giles, still not looking up.

Xander sighed and glanced at Spike, who was leering unpleasantly at him. Xander quickly turned away.

A few minutes of silence later, Giles finally looked up. "Is there anything you need, Xander?"

Xander turned to Giles, and hesitantly opened and closed his mouth. "Well, you see," he eventually managed to get out, "I mean, given that, y'know, I--"

There was a brief rap on the door before it suddenly swung open and Buffy strode into the room, a nervous Willow in tow.

"Giles," Buffy announced, "we've got trouble."

"Yes, your entrance didn't really have the earmarks of a social call," replied Giles.

"Vamp activity, _way_ up," explained Buffy, with a matching gesture.

"It's like some sort of... vampire and demon... Fourth of July, or something," said Willow, walking in and sitting down.

"Picnic baskets and fireworks?" asked Xander.

Spike scowled.

"More like chaos and screaming children," said Buffy.

"That sounds better," said Spike, appeased.

Everyone turned to glare at him.

"What?" he asked, indignantly.

Buffy turned back to Giles. "Any big bads comin' up on the mystic calendar there, Giles?"

"Like evil has a day-planner," said Spike, sarcastically.

Giles glanced over his glasses at Spike with a combination of distaste and disapproval, and replied to Buffy, "While some demonic events are tied to the alignment of the planets or-or the changing of the seasons, there is nothing forecast f-for the near future."

"Well, there's something going on," said Buffy. "Evil's having a field day out there."

Spike smiled to himself and leaned back in his chair, satisfied.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Who's that?" asked Buffy.

Spike sniffed the air, then cast a sidelong glance and grin at Xander. "It's your little orgasm friend."

"Shut up."

"Should I be jealous?" asked Spike.

"Shut up!"

Willow, looking confused, got up and answered the door.

"Is Xander here?" Anya immediately asked as she stepped inside, brusquely brushing past Willow. She looked quickly around, and her eye fell on Buffy. "It's you." Anya's eyes narrowed. "I saw _three_ vampires on the way over here. I'm lucky to have escaped with my life. Shouldn't you be out there doing your little slayer thing?"

"I was," explained Buffy, bristling, "but--"

"Well, get back to it." Anya turned to find Xander, and immediately walked over and planted herself on the couch beside him. "Where have you been?" she demanded.

Xander flushed and looked down. "I've been busy.... Job hunting, baby sitting." Xander cast an angry glance at Spike.

"And he's been enjoying the latter _so_ much, he's been a little distracted," said Spike, with a grin.

"Will somebody make him shut up?" Xander asked, angrily, looking anywhere but at Spike.

There was an uncomfortable pause, but Buffy brought everyone back to the point. "Vampires," she said, simply.

"Xander knows a lot about vampires," said Spike. "Don't you, Num--"

"Please," begged Xander, "please let me stake him!" Xander suddenly froze and flushed hard, looking down miserably. Spike's immediate burst of laughter didn't help.

Giles glared at them both over his glasses. "If you two are quite finished, we could get back to the matter at hand." He turned to Buffy. "I share your concern about the increased demonic activity, Buffy, but unless there are some signs of rituals... or summonings... or black magic, it may just be... a bad night to be out."

"If you ask me," said Buffy, darkly, "they're planning something. And we need to find out what."

Gradually, every person's gaze turned on Spike.

Spike glared back indignantly. "What?" he spat, looking around at them. "How would I know anything? Like any self-respecting vampire would even _talk_ to me anymore. Just rub it in, why don't you."

Everyone turned away disgustedly except for Xander, who continued to stare with a sort of distantly forlorn look in his eyes. Spike had turned away from the group, silently muttering to imself.

A worried look suddenly crossed Buffy's face. "This isn't one of those apocalypse things... is it?"

"Well," said Willow, twisting her lip. "This _is_ the Hellmouth. It wouldn't be the first time we've contemplated imminent world endage."

"The Hellmouth," said Giles, suddenly, looking blankly out across the room, a slightly frantic note creeping into his voice. He turned to Buffy. "H-has anyone been back to the high school since...?"

"No," said Buffy, confused. "Condemned school building wasn't exactly near the top of my list of places to visit."

"But it should be on the list of places to patrol," said Giles, rising. "If someone--or some thing--were able to reopen the Hellmouth...."

"Bingo... instant apocalypse," said Buffy, all confusion gone.

"Just add water and stir," said Xander. "Well, except for the water part. And the stirring."

Giles began to sort through the books on his desk. "I propose we make a visit to the high school. Willow, we may need your help to counter any ritual or spell they might be using...."

Willow nodded nervously. Xander perked up. "Need any--"

"Xander," Giles continued, still sorting, "you'd better stay here."

"--help?" Xander finished quietly, frowning.

"It's a plan." Buffy leaned forward and grasped the edge of her chair. "Willow?" she asked, rising quickly when Willow gave her a hesitant half-smile. They both headed for the door.

Xander watched nervously as Giles tarried for a few moments, selecting a couple of books and a cross from his desk before following the girls out the door.

"Hey, Giles," said Xander, hurriedly rising from the couch. "Want any research done on the home front? Add a little extra brain power to the operation?"

"That's all right, Xander," said Giles, turning back as he stepped outside. "Just keep an eye on Spike--" Xander turned to glare at the vampire, who smiled sweetly back at him. "--and make sure he stays out of trouble."

As the door swung shut behind them, Xander dropped back down on the couch and his head fell into his hands.

Anya immediately turned to him. "I haven't seen you in days. What's going on?"

"I told you," mumbled Xander, not looking up. "Babysitting."

Spike snickered. "Yeah, that's right, _baby_," he whispered.

Xander made a frustrated growl and turned to glare again at Spike.

Anya ignored this exchange. "Surely Giles could watch him for one night," she said, sliding towards Xander and placing her hand on his shoulder. "Or just..." she added, leaning in and whispering sultrily into his ear, "fifteen minutes."

Xander winced. "No!" he exclaimed, jumping up and walking away.

"What's the matter?" demanded Anya, rising as well. "I thought you liked orgasms. I thought we agreed on that."

"Maybe you're just not doing it for him," suggested Spike.

Anya spun around, a mixture of confusion and anger on her face.

"Spike, shut up," said Xander, tiredly. "Anya, let's take this outside and away from Bat-Brain here."

"Hey, vampires don't turn in to bats!" Spike protested angrily. "Why does _everybody_ think that? Smelly little vermin."

Xander ignored Spike and ushered Anya outside. As soon as the door shut behind them, Anya could be heard raising another angry demand. Spike smirked. Xander's tone was conciliatory, but the conversation soon deteriorated into a full-scale argument, closed by Anya with a single, brief, infuriated statement on Xander's character before she stomped angrily away.

Spike was just grinning merrily to himself the whole time.

Seconds later, the door swung open and Xander stormed through, slamming it violently behind himself. He stood for a moment in the middle of the room, fuming.

"She doesn't do it for you, does she?" Spike suddenly asked.

Xander spun around and glared. "Spike..." he began, warningly.

"You don't want _her_."

"Hey, that relationship was about the least dysfunctional I've had."

"She's just using you."

"Coming from the paragon of virtue and integrity that is you, that criticism sounds a little hypocritical."

Spike shrugged. "Who said it wasn't?"

"Anya's a very kind, caring individual. Unlike some people I could mention."

"Yeah, right. You just like her because she makes a great beard." Spike's tone became mocking. "Lots of orgasms and no questions about Xander's sexuality."

"Shut up!"

"Little faggot."

"All right, that's it!" Xander rushed across the room, and straddled Spike's lap, grabbing his collar.

Spike just smiled calmly back.

"You take that back!" growled Xander.

Spike was unfazed. "You know," he said casually, "you're really quite attractive when you're... aroused."

Xander yelled in frustration and jumped back. "I am _angry_! I am _not_ aroused!"

"Liar, liar," said Spike. "Pants on fire," he added, glancing down at Xander's crotch.

"Shut up, you lousy bastard!"

"Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty," said Spike, with a leer. "Of course," he added, losing interest, "that was a miserable attempt."

"What do you want?" yelled Xander.

"I want to hear you swear a blue streak."

Xander's eyes widened and he took in a huge breath, opening his mouth and raising a condemning finger. Suddenly he froze, hesitated, and exhaled, dropping his hands. "Get used to disappointment," he spat, and turned away.

"Oh, _come on_, Nummy."

Xander's head swung back around and he squinted angrily at Spike for a long moment... before a leering grin began to spread across his face. Suddenly, he was walking across the room and grabbing Spike by the collar, dragging him up from his chair. Without another word, Xander manhandled Spike out the door.

And Spike, looking like he had just won the lottery, issued no protest.

The door to Xander's basement room swung open and Xander shoved Spike through it. Spike stumbled into the middle of the room, still grinning. Xander locked the door behind them, turned to Spike, and said, "Strip."

Spike turned around in complete surprise. "What?"

"I said strip," Xander repeated, his tone leaving no room for question or protest, "and lie down on the bed. Now."

Spike's eyes widened slightly, and the corner of his mouth curled with the possibility of a smile. He followed Xander's directions, staring at him all the while. Xander, acting completely disinterested, turned to his dresser and began to undress himself. When he was down to his boxers, Spike was already stripped and on the bed, waiting.

Xander suddenly turned and leered at Spike, licking his lips.

Spike stared back at him with an awful anticipatory glee.

Xander quickly stripped off his boxers, freeing his hard cock, and stalked, cat-like, to the bed, crawling until he loomed over the waiting vampire. "Don't move," he hissed, and immediately dropped to Spike's chest, attacking with his mouth.

Spike shuddered with surprise, and writhed when Xander began to drag his teeth across Spike's flesh, crisscrossing his torso, catching on the contours of the muscles.

When Xander reached Spike's cock, Spike was already painfully hard. Xander teased the head with his tongue, making Spike gasp through his teeth as he clutched the covers of the bed. Spike lolled his head back and forth as Xander began to take the cock in his mouth, slowly, meticulously, caressing it with his tongue. Spike sighed with satisfaction when Xander's nose finally nested in his pubes.

And then suddenly, Xander was gone.

Spike's eyes shot open and he looked down to see Xander kneeling between his legs, reaching to grab something from beside the bed, and taking it in his hands.

Spike sat up. "What's that?" he asked eagerly.

Xander casually reached out and shoved Spike back down again. "You'll see."

Spike grinned knowingly but still jerked with surprise when Xander, without warning, slid a slickened finger into him. Xander smirked at Spike's reaction and wriggled his finger, spreading the lube and making Spike squirm. Then Xander's finger withdrew, a pillow was shoved under Spike's ass, and Spike felt the head of Xander's cock resting against him.

He shivered. Xander gave him a leering grin.

Then, in one sudden movement, Xander thrust all the way inside him and came crashing down atop him, baring and raking his teeth on Spike's collarbone. Spike's entire body was wracked by spasms of shock and delight.

Xander lifted himself up and began to piston violently into Spike as the vampire writhed beneath him, eyes shut, a look of tortured rapture of his face. Xander leaned down and brought his mouth to Spike's neck, dragging his teeth down the jugular. Spike let out a load moan.

"Keep quiet," hissed Xander, moving up to nibble Spike's ear. "You want my mom to walk in on us?"

"But wouldn't it be fun if she did?"

"No," said Xander, giving Spike's cock a rough tug. "If you keep talking about her, it's gonna ruin the mood."

Xander lifted himself again and gradually increased the tempo of his thrusts. Spike continued to writhe, the muscles in his torso and arms tensing and straining.

Then suddenly, Xander, with a grunt, thrust deep into Spike and held there as he came, bending down to attach his mouth to the side of Spike's neck and sucking hard on the jugular. Spike gasped and moaned as he shivered and came, spraying their stomachs with his seed.

When the moment had passed, Xander rose and looked Spike in the eye. "Who's the little faggot _now_?"

"You are."

Xander rammed himself full force into Spike, writhing against him, delivering a crushing kiss that, when Xander eventually relented, left Spike airily surprised and himself breathless.

He then collapsed, resting his head on Spike's chest, panting. "Just so that's clear."

*****