Trying to still his breathing, Xander stood in front of the door, heart racing. Trying to figure out what to do < shit >, his coat still clutched in his hand < shit shit shit >.

He could feel himself begin to sweat as pounding replaced the ringing.

It must be Anya; only Anya would pound at a door like that. Xander Felt the heat suffuse his body as the sweat pricked its way out < shit >. He couldn't deal with her now, his emotions were all over the place; he wanted to laugh and cry, shout, all at the same time and kiss, touch < shit >, but not Anya. The want he was feeling, the painful sweet joy, wasn't for her. He looked down at the crumpled note in his hand and felt a stab of something so overwhelmingly good!

He had to find Spike!

"Xander? I know you're in there, let me in." Anya frowned and looked down at the thermometer sticking out of her bag (Maybe he was sick again.)

"Xander? Are you sick again? I have a thermometer, I could take your temperature?" she called through the door. "Do you want me to get Giles?"

< Giles? > Xander thought, heart racing faster and reaching blindly, grabbing the door handle. "An, no don't, I'm fine!" < darn > Xander fought with the locks. < Why'd I get so many? >

"Just a second... < damn >. Finally pulling the last bolt, Xander reached out, grabbing the handle and swinging the door. "I'm fine. See?" Using his coat to cover himself and panting slightly. "This is me being fine, fine and dandy, that's me!... Completely fine, absolutely..." running out of breath and putting on his best, see? Everything's OK smile, as Anya breezed into the room and dropped her bag.

Anya glanced around, it was good to be back, and Xander'd taken care of things surprisingly well (for a man). "You've looked after the apartment very well Xander" she said with surprise, "everything's clean and neat". Smiling brightly, "Go you!" and punching him playfully on the arm.

Xander blushed, if it was possible to blush when you were already blushing (and sporting a hard-on that could break concrete); licking his lips he eyed the door, it was so invitingly open. "Yeah, it wasn't me, it was Spike < Spike! >. Spike did all the cleaning and stuff" < so large, and...and open! >

"You've housetrained him? That's very thoughtful of you" Anya's smile brightened. "He'll make somebody a good boyfriend".

< Boyfriend > Xander gave the door another longing look; why didn't he just ignore Anya and make a bolt for it? She'd dumped him, and broken his heart! Ok, she hadn't broken his heart, a little voice piped up, it had never been hers to break! He licked his lips again, tasting sweat.

Anya watched Xander fidget, hopping from foot to foot and looking at the door. He seemed flushed and sweaty. She'd never seen him so sweaty (apart from sex) and why was he holding his coat? Anya brushed the confusing thought aside, it didn't matter why he had his coat. She was here and she was gonna take care of him!

Taking off her jacket purposefully and fishing in her bag, she pulled out the thermometer. First things first, stop Xander being all sweaty (so he could get all sweaty with her, having sex). Lots and lots of make-up sex, with toys... and the new pair of soft leather handcuffs she'd found at the back of the magic shop. Anybody else would have wondered what a pair of soft leather handcuffs were *doing* at the back of the magic shop - but she' d think about that later (and see what else she could find), right now she had a hopefully soon to be ex-ex-boyfriend to take care of.

"Xander, you're sweaty. Sweaty is *not* good" giving Xander a concerned look. "Now, please close the door and drop your pants, so I can take your temperature".

< Huh? > Xander's gaze swung from the (wide open) door to Anya "Huh?"

Anya gave a small shake of the head and pulled the plastic cover down the overlarge thermometer; she was the only person Xander knew who could make taking off plastic look sexual! Rolling it back she displayed her prize with a look of triumph.

Xander felt himself deflate; what in hell was that?

"W... What is that Anya?"

Anya peered at the instructions, tilting her head for a better view "I told you, it's a thermometer and I'm gonna use it to take you're temperature".

Xander gulped; for a second everything but the thermometer faded. "An, there's no way in hell that's gonna fit in my mouth!"

Anya ignored him and carried on reading. "It's not for your mouth, silly".

The thermometer loomed large and even Spike was forgotten as Xander's brain did a double take and blanched! This was so pure Anya. His mouth went dry as he asked "Where, exactly do you think you're gonna stick that thing? < oh no! >

"Its anal, now please shut the door, and drop your pants so I can take *care* of you". Anya looked thoughtful, "or maybe just drop your pants. You have a very nice ass" she eyed the region speculatively. "Mrs. Brown down the hall used to appreciate your ass very much, I asked her what she thought of your ass once and she told me. 'Dear, if I was twenty years younger I'd get me a piece of that ass myself', and Mr Smith down the hall is always calling you an ass..."

"WWHAT?.. Anya!.." Xander's butt cheeks did an involuntarily clench. No way on this side of the hell mouth was *that*... No way! (and Mrs. Brown thought he had a nice ass? Ok, she was seventy, but hey!) "Anya, I really don't think...."

Anya finished reading and finally focused on Xander < men! > "Xander, don't be a baby!" Popping the thermometer between her teeth she reached out and made a grab for his pants, knocking his coat out the way.

Xander Squeaked "Anya!" more in surprise than shock; it wasn't like she hadn't done it before, but that was when his manly parts belonged to Anya and welcomed the slim fingers trying to find a way around his flapping hands. "An, NO" he spluttered batting at her fingers desperately, and finally, finally backing towards the door.

His sexual barometer had swung away from feminine fingers and focused on more manly digits, ones with black chipped nails and cool softness, and if she'd just let him alone he could listen to what his other head had been telling him since he found the darn letter and go find Spike!

"NO..." Why'd he feel such a girl saying that? "No... Means, N An!!" As he lurched backwards over the threshold and caught his foot on a cigarette butt lying on the floor. Sliding along the polished surface and loosing his balance in one quick "Yahhhh!!" Xander's other foot joined the first in its quest for the bright lights (of the ceiling) and his butt connected with the linoleum, pulling Anya (still trying to find a way into his pants) with him. "Oof"

Anya's face connected with Xander's auxiliary brain, earning her a strangled "Agg" from it's owner, and she thanked whatever gods were around she still had the thermometer between her teeth. These things cost money and this had been the largest, most expensive in the pet store.

She'd phoned the pharmacy from the magic box before coming over, to get advice on taking care of sick humans.

"What exactly is the problem ma'am?"

She'd thought hard about what this; she really wanted to do it right and start off their new relationship properly.

"Well, my little love poodle" she felt a warm glow "has been sick. And I want him to get better. I need him vigorous, and active, so we can..." she paused, remembering how mad Xander used to get at her 'inappropriate sex talk'... "Play, I want him to be able to... play, lots and lots of playing. Active playing, with me!" She smiled, Xander would be so proud!

"You're *poodle* is sick, and you want him better so you can 'play' with him?"

Anya nodded vigorously. "Yes, that's right, absolutely, I want to *play* with him." She smiled happily, this was going so well.

"Lady? Go see a pet store and stop wasting my time."

**

Xander was seeing red - painful, pulsating red. His head was still sore from the oogy attack, he felt tired after the picnic, and he was emotionally drained after Spike's letter and now Anya had crushed his manhood with her face! Squeezing the tears from his eyes he tried to bite back the unmanly scream waiting to get out. Not quite as bad as the time he's fallen on the handlebar of his pushbike, but not far off.

Peeling a damp lid open, he propped himself up. He could see Anya's head still resting on his injured body part, her hands on either side of his thighs. Any other circumstances and it would have been erotic, funny even.

Groaning he tried to wriggle out from under her. He had things to do, he had a Vampire to do! A bleached blond menace with a smart mouth and dead sexy... < don't think about Spike's ass >.

"Anya. Enough, I'm fine, and I really have to be someplace, so can we do *this* later?"

Anya looked up from between Xander's legs (she was kind of comfy). Taking a hold of the thermometer, she pushed herself back, balancing on her heels. She frowned as everything fell into place with a thud. Sweaty Xander, knowing she was coming and trying to avoid her, how could she be so stupid? Nodding sagely, she patted Xander's injured crotch.

"It's OK, I understand. You're weak, and you need time to gather your strength before resuming our relationship. You're worried I'll be disappointed if you can't give me orgasms".

Ah Jeez! Xander couldn't believe where this was going. "Anya..." He couldn't even find the words to dig them out of the hole they were getting into. He wanted to be gentle, he cared about Anya, but there was no easy way for this. "Anya? We *have* no relationship."

He took a deep breath and plunged on; he had to set things straight, make it clear so there'd be no mistakes. "Anya, I don't love you."

Anya froze, her face immobile. "You don't love me?" She asked, her voice sounding small and hollow.

Oh gods, this was terrible. If Xander hadn't had his heart so full of Spike, he didn't think he'd have been able to do this. "No, I don't love you"; he could see tears pricking the corners of her eyes and her mouth start to tremble.

How could he do this to her? He could feel his own mouth start to quiver as he reached out a hand. He knew how it felt; he hadn't until recently, but he did now. He knew the pain of not being wanted. The soul-destroying rejection of not being loved back. His voice came out low and husky. "I'm so sorry." Cupping her cheek, and running a thumb along the soft skin.

Anya dropped the thermometer and brushed a hand across her face, wiping away the wetness.

He didn't want her; she thought he loved her, but he didn't want her. She bit her lip as a question pushed it's way forward. She had to ask; it wasn't much, but it was something. "Is there somebody else?" She couldn't help it, whatever was left of her self-esteem rested on Xander's answer. Her hand clenched in the denim still between her fingers.

Xander gulped as Anya's fingers closed tightly around his groin. He could see how rigid the muscles were around her mouth. He wanted to tell her, wanted to shout it out, scream it to the world. Grab Spike and shake some sense into him, tell him 'Yes! You've been stupid, you're an idiot! I love you!' But he couldn't, he cared about Anya, and he couldn't. "No, there's no-one else An."

Relief flowed as Anya released her hold on Xander's pants. At least he wasn't leaving her for somebody else. He just didn't love her. Her Vengeance Demon (however unjustly) had reared its head, but it was OK, he hadn't picked somebody else over her because there *was* nobody else.

Anya sniffed, trying to gather the shreds of her dignity. Looking up she could see the sympathy in Xander's eyes, his dark brown chocolate eyes. She tried to laugh, giving a shaky smile and shrugging. He didn't want her (but there's no-body else!).

She bowed her head for a moment < he doesn't love me >. Giving a lopsided grin she looked through her lashes at the strange man who'd made being human an adventure, and broke the tension filling the air between them. "So, you don't want me to take your temperature?"

Xander felt a whole bucket of relief; this was why he'd always care about her. No matter what happened, this was why he'd always feel a tender, warm affection for her, practical Anya bridging the gap between them. "No, Anya... and what the hell kind of thermometer is that?" He smiled and for a moment they shared an intimacy they'd never had when they were together.

Anya smiled wetly. "Rectal!"

"Rectal? Why'd you bring me a rectal thermometer?"

Standing she brushed the dust from her knees, knocking a cigarette butt to the floor. "I didn't *know* it was rectal when I bought it! Spike told me"

Xander's heart jumped. "You've seen Spike? When did you see Spike? Where is he?"

Anya gave him a curious look. "He's in your lobby. He's waiting for the sun to go down" then really *looked* for the first time since she'd arrived.

He brain finally caught up with her emotions, click, click, click like an old computer, all the pathways cleared and the information trickled down.

She felt a calm detachment descend as she watched Xander do the funky crab dance backwards. He'd lied to her, he must have. All the time they'd been together, all the things they'd been through, and he'd never lied before.

She watched him stand, grabbing the wall in his excitement, steadying his balance. She'd never seem him look like that with her. It was like somebody had suddenly lit him up from the inside. Why hadn't she realized? God, over a thousand years of experience and she'd almost let it slip by.

"Who is she?"

Xander tried to focus, his mind had already left Anya and traveled down the hallway, he was already half there. All he had to do was get his feet to catch up with his brain. It was funny how love could do that, block everything out and fill your mind with one person.

"What?" Anya's words just hung, tattooing the air between them and suddenly Xander felt verbally dyslexic, because they didn't mean a damn thing to him.

"Who is she? Anya asked again, her voice cold, detached. "Does Spike know? Is that why you're so anxious to see him.... Did you fall in love with her before, or after we broke-up?"

The air was so quiet, Xander was sure he could hear his own heart beat, and Anya was calm; he hadn't expected to be calm.

She tilted her head, suddenly feeling every bit of her one thousand years. "I thought it was me; I thought." Anya's gaze turned inward. "I thought, if I'd been a better girlfriend, you wouldn't have drifted away. I thought, Anya, you haven't done this right. He's been a good boyfriend to you, but you've pushed him away. I thought" she paused pulling back from herself. Xander looked like a frightened rabbit, no wonder they were so scary. "I thought, break up with him and start again. Do it *better* this time..." her gaze bore into him. "Who is she?"

The headlights loomed large for Xander Harris, Anya was the truck and he was the bunny in the road, watching the light show.

*****

Anya's eyes seemed to swallow him, the irises swelling liquid black and fathomless. "It doesn't matter who Anya... and it was after. I swear to *God* it was after... please..."

Xander pressed himself into the wall, trying to blend with the cream coloured smoothness against his back. All the way through high school the Xan-Man had been a nobody, nothing. Just a face in the crowd you passed over while looking for somebody else.

This was the first time in his life that he wished he could go back. His day had gone from shitty to great to all time shitty in the space of a half an hour. Oh Christ, he could see the thoughts floating behind those eyes he used to love, bad thoughts, painful thoughts; he could almost feel the negativity shimmering around her and, in a way, understood.

Years ago, when he'd first met Buffy and felt the stirrings of puppy love; he'd felt something similar. When he'd realised she'd never love him the way he loved her and he'd seen her eyes shine whenever Angels' name came up, or Dead boy crept out of the shadows of the Bronze in a swirl of black and broody anti-hero mystique; he'd watched from the background and thought up ways to make her suffer the way he was suffering. Worked out schemes to make Buffy realise the mistake she was making.

But that was a long time ago, a lifetime ago, and as love faded to friendship he was *so* glad he'd never acted on any of those thoughts... (OK, so he still hated Dead boy...) but if he could just make Anya realize... "Anya?"

If he could just get through "Anya?"

But she didn't hear; either she was so caught up in her thoughts, or just plain ignoring him and it didn't matter. Either way, if he didn't get outta the corridor soon; his goose was gonna be more cooked than the Thanksgiving turkey!

Anya reached up slowly and started to gently stroke her throat, right at the place where her pendent used to hang... and slowly her gaze traveled down, coming to rest just below Xander's navel and lingering.

< Crap! > Anya's gaze steadied and Xander could feel his manhood start to shrivel as the air turned frosty around his midsection and thighs.

Tick. < She's gonna castrate me - push my balls back an make me go through puberty again. >

Tick... < Oh crap! Teenage zits an body hair in, ew, strange places. > If he could just get far enough along the corridor....

Xander slowly started to slide along the wall, towards the stairwell. Anya wasn't listening, maybe she'd never listen, but he didn't have time for scorned lovers and deep introspection. Never taking his eyes off of the two watching him, he inched along sideways, feeling exposed and naked under the harsh, florescent lighting and clean antiseptic smell of the hall. He could do this! Get along the corridor, collect his vampire... and get the hell outta Dodge.

Finally his sweaty fingers touched cool, polished wood of the staircase and, taking a deep breath, he bolted. He felt like that guy who ran the minute mile, what was his name?.. Whatever, he'd ask Wills later. Xander took the stairs so fast he was sure his sneakers were smoking and swung around the turn with a dexterity that would made monkeys jealous, jumping down the steps two at a time and skidding to a stop in the lobby.

Spike picked at a piece of gunk sticking to his trousers. It was brown, looked like chocolate. Staring at the dirty digit he though < what the hell > and stuck it in his mouth. < Yep, chocolate > he thought sucking the finger < probably the Whelp's >. Spike sniffed < bugger >, why'd he have to think about Xander? The Whelp was probably shagging *her* right now. Spike gave his finger a hard slurp. Didn't need a good imagination to work that out! His brain supplied a girly Anya, all fluttering lashes and falsetto.

'Oh Xander, it was all a mistake and I've come to take you back and interlock parts again.'

And an ultra manly Xander, complete with superhero baritone and manly chest, would swing the door wider and smile a goofily engaging grin.

'Hey, Anya! It's fine. I understand, you've realised what a darn sexy guy I am and how sensitive yet caring I can be.'

Spike sagged against the wall. How bloody long until Angel turned up?

'Oh. Xander'

'Oh. Anya.'

Spike could see Xander doing that blush thing he did, the one that started up his neck and travelled to just below his hairline. He could see Xander's strong hands reaching out and curling around Anya's waist, pulling her into him and he could almost feel the soft, warm breath as Xander nuzzled the fine hairs at the nape of Anya's neck, breathing the scent of femininity and squeezing his fingers in to the soft flesh of her back.

Maybe Spike had a thing for pain, because his brain supplied the three words he wanted most in the world to hear... and gave them to somebody else.

'I love you. Anya'

Spike gagged. If he could sink any lower, he'd just done it. He'd always loved being himself, even when things got bad and Dru left and he got the chip; he'd never wanted to be anybody else. But right at this moment, if somebody could wave a magic-wand, he'd give his non-existent soul to be an ex-vengeance demon with a thermometer.

Spike was so lost in this own misery; he didn't hear the feet pounding down the stairs.

Xander didn't need to see to know he'd left skid marks in the lobby as he came to a holt. If he'd been a Star trek fan, which he wasn't 'cause, ew! Nerdsville? He'd have guessed warp 10... He had to take a moment to pull some air into his gasping lungs and clear the red mist clouding his vision.

As his trembling hands finally unclenched from the stair rail, he scanned the lobby, hardly noticing the daylight still shimmering through the street doors or the empty desk where the doorman, Frank, usually sat, reading a Playboy cunningly concealed behind an out of date Wall-street journal. Xander's gaze finally landed on a pair of doc-clad feet poking out of the one pocket of darkness and his heart leapt. "Spike?"

Spike looked up at the sound of his name, pulled out of his pit by the breathy tones of this hearts' desire < oh great! > He felt his insides squeeze as he took in the disheveled appearance of a well-handled Xander, crumpled top and rumpled hair, and he cursed vampire senses as Xander smell floated across the lobby, mixed with the lighter, flowery scent of Anya. < Mr 'I've got my girl back and I don't need *you* anymore!' > "What do you want Whelp? Come to gloat because you've got you're girly back?" Spike couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone, the malignant tumour of despair making him want to spit the name 'Anya'.

If Xander could have spared the air, he'd have sighed. But he couldn't and he didn't have the time. Any minute now, Anya would wake up from her... whatever! "Spike? We *so* need to get outta here, like now!"

Spike raised an eyebrow, what the hell was he talking about? "What are you talking about, Pillock?"

Now, Xander did sigh, a quick expelling of breath. "Spike, Anya's upstairs and we have to go, like, now!" Xander raised his eyebrows in an unconscious imitation of Spike. < Is this what happens when you love somebody? Are we gonna be like the old couple in 7b, who finish each others sentences. and would that be so bad? >

Spike still looked confused, wide eyed, with his head tilted like a bird. Totally appealing and oh, so sexy and he seemed to struggle for the words his mouth wanted.

"And what's that got to do with me? Just sitting here, minding my own business an waiting for the poof..." Spike spluttered, stopping as his brain registered what he'd said < shit! > Gathering the last of his bravado, he squared his shoulders < don't let the Whelp know, don't let him know! > He lifted his chin defiantly < bugger this > and tried to sound unconcerned, the Big Bad; he pulled out what felt like the phoniest smile in history and continued. "I'll wager, you're not offering a threesome, so maybe you should get back to your honey and leave me be?"

< Geeze! > Xander wanted to punch Spike - almost as much as he wanted to grab him by his t-shirt an kiss him till he didn't know where the Xanster started and the Big Bad stopped. "Spike, I'm not offering *anything* with Anya." Speaking slowly, using the same tone he'd adopted, that time he'd had to explain to a very small Dawn *why* it wasn't a good idea to press a wet finger into a light socket "I don't *want* Anya, I want *you*... So get your bleached butt off of the floor."

Spike's eyes stopped being sexy and grew puppy dog big, as everything shifted. "You don't want Anya?" he asked, his voice coming way too small for somebody with over a hundred years of bloodshed and mayhem behind him.

Xander just wanted to grab a hold and never let go. He wanted his apartment lobby to disappear and take their clothing with it, depositing the both of them in a large bedroom, with soft silk sheets and a warm log fire lighting the shadows cast by naked skin.

< Well, Duh? > "Of course I don't want Anya!"

Spike looked at Xander and Xander felt himself turn to Jell-O; his whole body seemed to dissolve in a puddle of goo as big as his heart. Where in hell was that bedroom? Cause he *so* wanted to be there, like, now... with a naked, milky white Spike and enough time to nibble, suck and lick every part available... but there would be time for that later;- right now, they had to get their asses moving before Anya found them.

< *Bloody hell*!! > Flashed through Spike's mind as a warm human hand grabbed his.

*****
Spike felt himself being pulled up by a pair of work-roughened hands, large, tanned hands with soft warmth and callused fingers < Xander hands >. Looming in front of him, standing over him.... Bending towards him?

Spike's brain stopped, did a double take and regrouped. The only thing that mattered was Xander, looking all *not* hating him and pulling him up with eyes shining over bright and telling him, he *didn't want* Anya < bloody hell! >.

In the few seconds it took for a vampire to be pulled up by a human, Spike's mind raced. This couldn't be happening, not after the way he'd treated the lad... but he'd do *anything* if this human with the smart mouth and goofy grin; and amazingly bad taste in clothes, would give him another go. The 'Big Bad' felt his eyes start to mist over and blur as the vertical changed to the horizontal and blue eyes stared into brown.

"Bloody hell... you, want me?"

"No, I want the hot guy in 5b.... < Duh >" and the air that for a few seconds had stopped around them, started to move again.

"Xander" Spike's lips trembled, as he tried to pull out the words he needed. The bloody awful poet buried inside, wanted to spout poetry and quote Shakespeare... maybe write a sonnet. "Xander, if you'll just give me another chance.... If you'll give me this chance, I'll be yours until the sun turns me to dust and the wind scatters my ashes...."

Xander's mouth felt dry as he tightened his hold and watched the emotions play across Spike's face. This was all way too much. He could feel the pounding in his chest push up to his ears. It was so loud the whole building could probably hear it... < The building... Anya, damn! > "Spike?" Xander enunciated slowly to push through the white noise. "We *so* have to go, like now!" and sliding a hand down over Spike's shoulder blade and across Spike's chest, Xander grabbed a hold of the vampire's t-shirt and started to pull him away from the shadows.

Spike wasn't with it. He'd lost it someplace at Xander telling him, he didn't want Anya. The words kept playing in his head like a stuck audiotape. "If you'll let me try, luv, I'll be so good to you, pet, you'll know what heaven on earth feels like...." And Xander dragging him towards the back of the lobby and the 'Employee only' door behind the stairs, didn't seem to matter to his dazed mind. "I'll treat you like a Prince" and feeling himself being pulled along by a black t-shirt tangled in a human hand, was just something on the periphery of his perception. A footnote under the text, an 'Oh - by the way....' at the end of a conversation. "I'll make you feel so good, you'll wonder how you lived without me..."

Xander pulled Spike along with him, not noticing the vampire stumble and almost loose his footing, or really paying attention to the words spilling from the cool body. The Xan-Man was on automatic as he shuffled them both through the door with the handy inside bolt < oh yeah! > Just pausing long enough to man handle Spike out of the way and slide the heavy metal home.

"I'll worship you, pet...."

And down a flight of stone steps to the old wine cellar he'd found on his abortive search for the laundry room after Anya left, slamming the mildew-covered wood behind them with a thud.

As the reassuring click of the lock sounded, it seemed to throw a switch inside of Xander and he felt his 'fight or flight' rush start to fade, taking with it the adrenalin pumped, pounding in his ears. "What'd you say?"

"I'll lo.... What?"

Xander slumped down the door, suddenly exhausted and tried to pear at Spike through the gloom. All he could make out was a blond head tilting. As the feeling of relief flooded through him, his bones turned to hospital Jell-O as he realised Spike was watching him. Really watching, not just looking in his direction and thinking about his next bag of blood. "What'd you say?"

As the metallic click sounded in the half-light. Spike's brain came back from whatever place it had zoomed off to in the euphoric seconds after Xander's appearance. Spiralling back into his body and landing with a thud. "You weren't listening?..."

Spike couldn't bite anymore, but reality sure could; as it came up, licked its rosy lips and took a vampire chunk out of his pearly white behind.

Xander hadn't been listening. He hadn't heard a word Spike had said. In a big bubble of overloaded emotion, Spike hadn't noticed his heart slip out. It had flowed over his lips in a flowery flood of words < bugger >. Spike tried to gather himself; maybe if Xander hadn't heard, it was a good thing. Xander didn't want Anya, but he hadn't said he wanted him.

But, the whelp was here. Whatever had gone on with the ex-demon bint.... Xander obviously didn't hate him. He'd come down the stairs like somebody had shoved a hot poker up his arse and dragged Spike away with him - so he obviously didn't hate him... right?... But then, Xander had pulled spike's newly chipped, Xander clothed backside out of the school the other year when those three bloody demons had tried to re-open the hell mouth and he'd sure hadn't l... liked him that much then. Spike gave himself a mental shake. < Don't think about l... > Maybe, it was a good thing the Whelp hadn't heard him spill his guts like a love struck chit. Maybe, it was just Xander being Xander, saving Spike from whatever he'd done to piss Anyanka off < don't think about lo.... >

Xander watched the denser darkness that was Spike pull away from him and retreat to the wall he knew was opposite and he sighed. Rubbing his hands wearily across his pants, his tired brain tried to work out the right thing to say to diffuse the brittleness that had suddenly developed between them... and came up with nothing! He'd been too busy trying to save their asses to pay attention to what Spike had been saying, but he knew he'd missed something important. The only thing going through his mind as he'd edged away from Anya, had been Spike.... Find Spike.... Get Spike.... What he'd actually *do* with him when he'd gotten him.... Ok, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He did seem to remember smooches being on the menu, hot, wet, long... groppy smooches.... They say fortune smiles on the brave, so Xander decided to embrace the ideal and jump in with both Scooby dancing feet. This was Spike, who'd been an idiot, who'd admitted he'd been an idiot. This was Spike, who'd become his friend.... This was Spike, who was radiating that same dejection that Willow had sported when Hyena Xander had ripped her a new one.

He could do this... one small step for Xander, on medium sized Vampire... for Xander - Mankind could go... play with Angel! So, for a second, Xander borrowed Willow's resolve face, than replaced it with Willow's brave little toaster face and licking his lips, asked Spike "could you just like, repeat everything after 'bloody hell', 'cause the threat of imminent castration," he shuddered, "sort of threw me?"

Fortune may smile on the brave, but it ripped the head off of Xander Harris and spat down his neck < damn! > He could almost feel spike retreating into himself, putting on the 'I don't give a shit' mask and flexing his muscles for a comfy fit. Xander Bent his legs up and rested his chin in his knees, too tired to hold his head up and watched the object of his affections through the gloom. He'd read Spike's letter, he knew Spike cared about him.... He'd made a life altering decision, now all he had to do was get he stupidest vampire in... vampire history, to do the same! < Crappola, there goes my touchy feely, groping the Vampire moment! > The soft slide and rustle of denim signalled Spike sliding down the wall opposite. Most people didn't know the difference between happy, snarky Spike and dejected 'my puppies gone an' got run over by a truck and the driver's now stamping it's liver into the highway with a larger pair of boots' Spike. But, Xander did. How could somebody so old have the mental age of a teenager?

As Xander felt the stress of the day catch up with him and his eyes start to close, the words 'High maintenance' flashed through his head in neon colours and as Morpheus claimed another victim, the last lucid thought to roll across Xander Harris' mind was < why do I get the feeling being with Spike is gonna be a whole lot more stressful than Anya.... And, what am I doing? >

In the gloom, Spike watched Xander close his eyes, the long lashes fluttering down over sweaty cheeks, < oh.... Bugger it! > What did it matter if he made a pratt of himself? He'd done it before, probably do it again. He was love's bitch, he knew it, he'd always known it.... "Alright then, but just this once mind, cause' I'm not repeating it... and if you tell anybody...." Spike let the threat hang. "Basically mate.... I-loveyouyougit!" He'd said it. "I want to spend the rest of my unlife with you... ponce!

"You make me feel alive, when I'm with you...." Spike grimaced, this was bloody embarrassing, and he silently thanked whatever Gods looked after wayward vampires for Xander's closed eyes. "When I'm with you, I want to do 'nice' things... stroke fluffy kittens and, an' kiss babies.... I want to do things to make you happy because when you're happy, I'm happy. And I want to kiss you until I can't kiss you anymore... and run my tongue all over you.

"I want to slide my mouth over places nobody else sees and run my teeth over you an' taste you. " Spike's eyes glazed. "I want to take off your clothes, real slow like, so I can memorise your body." His voice took on a husky tint.

"And stroke you until you purr and suck on your skin until you squirm." Spike swallowed as his imagination supplied full, erotic Technicolor. Xander, flushed with the blood drawn to the surface as Spike gently worried his skin. "I want to slide up your naked body and feel the hairs tickle me as I reach your nipples, and I want to bite them, real careful like... and make them hard. I want you gasping for me, saying my name like it's the only thing in the world. I want you to forget about everything but me as I slide my naked body across yours and rub my chest over your cock. I want to feel you being so hard it's painful and I want to rub my nipples over your wet head and feel it bounce as you gasp.

"Then I want to move lower and lick it, like it's the best lollypop I've ever tasted, and I want to feel the warm saltiness explode over my tongue and know I'm the only person you're thinking about, pet.

"I want to swirl the tip in my mouth and feel you pulse against my tongue. I want you bucking an' groaning with pleasure because it's so good, as I slide my mouth down and breathe you in... and then" Spike could feel himself getting hard as an imaginary Xander bucked into his mouth.

"And then, I want to show you why Vampires give head better than anybody else in the world.

"I want you breathing so hard you're hyperventilating as I hold you still and burry my nose in your pubes," Spike squirmed against his tightening jeans "and suck you harder than you've ever been sucked before. I want you wishing my lips weren't covering my teeth as I slide up and down and swallow you - because this is so good, you need a little pain to bring you back.

"I want to slide my hands down the inside of your sweaty thighs, rub up thecrease of your groin and feel your balls. I want your muscles so tense, you think you're gonna explode as I cup your sack and work it, softly, like those Japanese tension thingies you can buy off of the shopping channel.

"I want you screaming, yelling with pleasure...." Spike was breathing hard now, he didn't need to, but somehow he had to. "Then...." His voice broke slightly as the friction of tight jeans became nearly an unbearable pleasure.

"Then I want to feel you come like you've never come before and have you watch me as I swallow around you, taking everything you can give." Spike moaned low in his throat as the image of Xander, watching as he sucked him nearly sent him over and felt a cool wetness soak through the crotch of his pants as a few drops of pre-com leaked out < bugger! > Eyes nearly closed he continued, his voice trembling "and later, when you're ready, pet. I want to gently kiss my way down your legs and lift them over my shoulders. I want to push you up so I can see your backside and burry my face in the join.

"I want to lick my way to your hole and slide my tongue around the entrance, feeling all the creases around the edge relax as I nibble an' stroke you, and I want to push inside, real slow... slide in and out and stretch you, real gentle like and slowly fuck you with my tongue." Spike's tongue flicked over dry lips, mimicking his words.

"Then, I want to get the sweetest feeling, smoothest lube ever... not the sticky stuff. Something that's not gonna leave a bloody great mess. Something clean smelling and not too heavy and coat myself, luv, slowly, so you can watch... and I want to take you....

"I want you to watch me take you, I want you so relaxed I can slide in and see you enjoying it. I want to glide into you like it's the most natural thing in the world and watch your expression. I want to pull out real slow and slide back again and I want to find that spot inside of you and gently push it, so you know how good it can feel.

"And I want to fuck you - and talk to you while I do it.... Probably crap you know, tell you how beautiful you are to me, pet and how much I want you and such. I want you to hear me but be so lost in sensation you can't speak - just gasp as I hit that place over and over.

"Then, when you think you're gonna die it's so good. I want to pull out and slam back into you, hitting that place so hard you almost see stars, and I want to explode inside of you and flood you with me."

Eyes closed and head thrown back, Spike continued, his voice low and strained as he rode the roller coaster of imagination to its peak and started the frighteningly sweet fall back down. "And I want to stay inside of you for a while, until the orgasm wears off and I slide out." He gloried in the feeling for a moment, relishing the sensation. "Then I want you to do it to me."

The room grew silent as Spike gathered himself and focused on Xander, using pre-natural vision to study the dark bowed head. Tracing the slight outline of shorn hair from the recent injury, focusing on the faint pink line still visible but already starting to face as new hair grew and the last of the small scabs from stitches sloughed away. Remembering the times he'd washed the silky hair and run his fingers though it to remove the last suds of shampoo under the warm spray of water, and cursed himself for his stupidity.

Spike wasn't sure which particular part of his stupidity; he had so many parts to choose from in the recent past, hell - stupidity was his middle name. William the *bloody stupid* Bloody! Speaking quietly, almost too low for human ears to catch, he whispered "and someday, I'm gonna get the stones, Harris, to tell you that when you're awake!"

*****
tbc