The fries were limp, his steak sandwich was cold, and the cokes were losing their fizz by the time Xander managed to extract himself from the diner.

Like a man on a mission, he stomped across the parking lot, striding between the two trucks which housed the Rosx demons and started banging a fist violently against a door on his left. After a moments hesitation, a horned head bereft of its mask and cheeks bulging with food, appeared out of the open window. This Rosx demon was the largest in the group and from what Xander could tell also the leader.

Xander had silently dubbed him, Eirik the Red but was now considering changing that to Chip or Dale.

Red eyes widened as they stared down at the obviously furious human followed by a mumbled "Bcha?"

"Don't 'Bcha' me you thieving little chipmunk," Xander hissed. "If you wanted something to eat you should have told me. These are good people and stealing from them in wrong."

Eiirik withdrew back into the cabin.

Xander remained where he was, seething. He was surprised when the door opened and Eirick clambered down. A muscular hand was thrust out palm open, Xander squinted in an attempt to identify what he was being shown, and leaned down for a better view.

It was a rock, little more than a pebble actually. Eirick's arms waved about as he chirped his explanation, it took some time but eventually the human got the point. The Rosx demon's had paid for what they had taken using the rock.

Somewhat mollified, Xander said that he understood. "Okay, but demon commerce and human commerce aren't quiet the same. You guys may think rocks are valuable, but humans don't."�

This lecture earned him a scathing glare from Eirik who swung back up the side of the truck. Once the demon had Xander's undivided attention, he simply cut the side mirror-with the rock. Xander may not be a genius but he knew of only one thing that cut glass like that.

The Rosx demons had paid for their food all right, with a diamond.

"Errr, you want me to go back and get the change?"�

Eirik's yellow crest rose up on his head as the demon started laughing. At least, Xander thought it was laughing, he wasn't too sure exactly what the whistle's and tweets were, but felt he'd made an idiot out of himself enough for one day to ask any further.

"Bcha?"

To his right, the two demons in the other truck had their heads out the window, gazing at the cokes with longing. Xander passed them up without further comment while Eirik did the same for his own travelling companion.�

The human looked on in curiosity as Eirik, with a sly glance at the trucks on either side, produced a small hip flask. Poured a generous measure of the contents into his own jumbo coke, stirred the straw diligently then took a deep sip.

He gestured with the flask to Xander, asking if he'd like a taste.�

One careful sniff of the flask was enough to send Xander reeling back with his eyes watering as he gasped out "This is high octane fuel!"�

Eirik nodded happily then burped, two feet of blue flame shot from his mouth. Yellow crest flattened against his skull in embarrassment, Eirick warbled an apology to the shocked human.

Xander hastily checked himself for burn marks, grateful that the hairs on his arm would grow back. He straightened up, temporarily borrowed Willow's 'resolve face' stating in a shaking voice "You are not driving *and*," he held up a finger to emphasis the point. "Absolutely, positively- no smoking."�

*****

After a contrite Eirik had helpfully re-heated his steak sandwich and fries, Xander wondered back to his own rig.

His pace slowed on approach. There was something not quiet right about the exterior. With his nose almost touching paint, Xander peered closer, noticing small almost undetectable outlines, indicating that was a lot more to his knorr than met the eye.

{{Have to check that out later when we get to LA}} he decided.

Xander clambered into sleeper berth and passed Spike his fries. Pointedly ignoring the disused candy wrappers littering the small enclosed space.

Assuming a sitting position next to the sprawled vampire, Xander asked dryly "When were you going to inform me of our little demons penchant for all thing inflammable?"�

"When me lighter ran out?"

"Spike!"

"What?" the vampire replied innocently.

Xander's glare became glacial.

"Oh for Christs sake don't get your knickers in a twist, pet." Spike groaned. "Their perfectly harmless unless provoked....or drunk." Blue eyes glittered with mischief "I've heard that clan parties are a real blast," he added with a snigger.

Xander felt his own lips start to twitch and bit into his steak to gain some control. He couldn't maintain his pique however and he was hungry, it seemed like seconds but he was soon staring at greasy paper and wondering where all the food had gone to.

He relaxed in the companionable silence, staring at the undead creature that had come to be one of the most important things in his life. Spike deserved more from him than half truths and re-directed conversations, Xander decided.

"What happened with Drac and the sister's...." he blurted out, then ground to a halt as his mouth dried up and his courage went out the window.

Spike's lax pose stiffened with tension before the vampire forced himself to relax. He picked up some candy, threw one at Xander then began to casually unwrap the chocolate.

"I've heard," Spike drawled. "That the head shrinks these days say that 'talking' about it is good for you. Personally," he popped the now unwrapped chocolate into his mouth. "I think its a load of bollocks."

Xander's eyes widened. "You...you do?"

"Do you hear me spouting off about my time with Peaches?"

"But you're always..." Xander's voice trailed off as the thought about it. Spike bitched and moaned about what a prick Angelus had been, in hindsight, Xander realized that the blonde vampire had never really discussed details. Ever.

"It was Dru who turned me but Angelus trained me. In fucking Technicolor to put a more modern spin on it," thin lips twisted into a wry smile. "Do you want another chocolate?"

The candy lobbed close to Xander's feet, he stared at brightly colored wrapper like it had grown two heads and four eyes while his mind tried to come to grip with this revelation.

"Dru? I always thought it was Angel."

Black clad shoulders shrugged. "I wasn't his type, no religious hangups to play with." Spike explained. " Angelus sired Dru. Dru sired me. You see, luv? All just one big happy psycho family."

Xander unwrapped the candy and stuffed it into his mouth, anything to prevent himself talking. Not that he had anything to say, but the distraction helped.

"Bein' with Angelus was like living in a Dicken's novel written by the Marque de Sade on acid," Spike rattled on aimlessly, or so it seemed.

"It's not something humans can understand. Even when 'e was being a black hearted bastard, Dru and I would still come crawling back for more."

"Yoda," Xander mumbled.

Dark eyebrows rose.

"When I first met you," Xander explained. "You said to Angel that he was your Yoda."�

"We were his," Spike stated with more than just a hint of bitterness. "There's no democracy between vampire's, luv. He said mangle and we asked whips or chains. Things evened out a bit as we got older but he was, technicalities aside, still our Sire."

Despite himself, Xander knew his head was nodding. His fingers started to play with a discarded wrapper, "It was like that with Drac," he whispered.

"I mean, he said jump and I would have leapt over the Trump Tower if I could have. Probably would have grabbed a few moths on the way down for one last meal," he added wryly, trying to lighten the moment while his stomach twisted itself into knots.�

Spike's face remained carefully bland.

"And the sex?"

Xander visibly deflated as he made his confession. "Hell, take every fantasy I've had since I was eight, multiply it by a factor of ten and you still wouldn't even come close." He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable screams of rage.

Spike's face became dark, blue eyes shifted into gold. "Even a great shag loses its appeal when you 'ave no bloody choice. Don't it?"

"What?" the vampire asked derisively at Xander's stunned expression. "You expected me to lose it because you 'ad fantastic sex? Been there done that, pet."�

"I *know* what games the big boys play to get their rocks off. They mess with your head, make you beg for more while inside you're screaming and looking for a way to stake the bastard."

Golden eyes locked with brown, "I've seen Drac work his gypsy mumbo jumbo before. Don't ever think you are to blame for this, luv. I'll get the arrogant little prick, *nobody* messes with what's mine."�

Fighting back tremors of relief, Xander reached out to gently caress Spike's pale features. The blonde grabbed his hand, tugging Xander down so they lay side by side.

They remained like that for some time, comforting each other.

"Since you were eight?" Spike's voice was laced with amusement, referring back to Xander's previous remarks. " Always knew you were a horny little sod, I'm impressed."

Xander blushed "I was ahead of my time," he said breezily and Spike chortled in amusement. Tension disolved to be replaced by something more intense.

Their kiss tasted of greasy fries, chocolate and coke, becoming more needy by the second. Xander heard Spike utter a low growl as the vampire rolled on top and their hips ground together.

Things were heating up nicely, Xander thought, when a cacophony of sounds erupted within the truck.

"Bloody hell!" Spike raged, both he and Xander rolled away from one another, hands over their ears in a useless effort to stop the noise.

Spike frantically grabbed the hand set for the CB radio, screaming at the Rosx demons. Xander was within moments of wrestling it away and adding his own two cents worth when the noise abruptly ceased.

"What the heck was that about?" he asked, ignoring the ringing in his ears and wishing his axe wasn't packed in the back of the truck.

From the look of Spike's expression the Rosx demons had better start looking for a place to hide. Preferably a deep hole surrounded by crucifix's and a moat full of holy water.

In full game face, Spike snarled "They want to get moving. Apparently they made a few calls from the store and 'ave a tour lined up for Universal Studio's this afternoon."

Xander shook his head violently from side to side, while his mind boggled at the very thought. Finally, his hands went up in defeat. "I don't want to know. I really, really *do not* want to know."

With puppy dog eyes, he said to Spike "Guess we'll just have to take a rain check."

Spike growled, hauling Xander close for kiss that left the human breathless "Do you want a coat,pet?" the blonde crooned while exploring Xander's collarbone. "A lovely, long shiny coat that glitters like the rainbow when you walk?"

"Hmmmm, that sounds ni....What?" Xander finally worked out what Spike was talking about. "You can't skin them Spike."

"I bloody well can," Spike retorted. "Can I borrow your axe?"

"NO, and you still can't skin them."

"Why not?"

"Cause we need them to drive the trucks to LA," Xander explained patiently.

"What about after?"

Xander sighed, carefully parted the curtain and climbed into the front cabin. "No."

"How about a pair of shoe's? I've noticed your runners are lookin' a little worn." Spike's voice had taken on a pleading tone.

"No. Besides, I'd look like a pimp from one of those seventies movies."

"You can have freebies any time you like," came the sultry vow.

The engine kicked over and settled into a rumbling purr. Traffic was still light this time of morning as the mini convoy rejoined the highway.

"A belt? Every good Viking needs belt to hold 'is trousers up."

"You were closer with the shoes," Xander yelled. {{And God, this trip is going to give me either grey hair or looking like GQ reject.}}

"What about..." Spike started up again.

Xander stared at the radio dial with longing and his fingers started to twitch.

In doing so, his curious stare wavered over the rest of the dashboard. What he saw was... a bit intimidating.�

His fingertips skated over a button here, a lever there, recognizing some but not all. "Geez, what is this? A rocket ship or a truck?" he asked out loud.�

Spike continued to bitch about the Rosx demons, and Xander was left resorting to humming tunelessly and very loud in an attempt to block out the whining.Having given up on clothing apparel and accessories the vampire was now testing Xander's knowledge of everyday household items until after a full half hour he could take it no longer.�

"I don't think a doorknocker that belches fire would encourage visitors, Spike."�

"Bull! The little bastards have got to be good for something other than stuffing up my shaggin' time," came the snarled reply.�

Managing to let just the precise amount of sarcasm into his voice, Xander retorted "Hellooo, have you by any chance been sniffing petrol with crimson quartet?" and let a finger brush against one of the buttons mounted in the center of the steering wheel. At least he recognized the little symbols on these ones- well, most of them. "The last time I looked you were still a vampire, blondie."�

"So?"�

{{Cool. Automatic windows. Lets have a look see and check out what these others do}}�

"So, Spike meets flaming doorknocker. See Spike go poof. See Spike get swept under welcome mat," Xander's eyes re-acquainted themselves with the hypnotic effect of windscreen wipers as they moved back and forth. As a result he totally missed Spike's reply.�

"Ummm, what did you say?"�

"If you can stop playing with your new toy for a moment," the vampire ground out, "You'd have heard me say I was planning on giving 'em as a presents."�

"You don't... you are *not* giving Buffy or Giles a Rosx doorknocker."�

"I hear Peaches is looking for a new place," Spike wheedled. "This could put a whole new spin on the house *warming* gift idea. Angelus *loved* surprises.�

For a good fifty seconds, Xander was tempted. And the other two minutes he took being non-reply guy was just his way of teasing Spike, sorta- kind of.�

"Can I take a rain check on that one?" he stalled, staring hard at a button with a marking that he had absolutely no clue about as to its meaning. But pressed it anyway.�

There was this faint whirling sort of sound coming from... from where he had absolutely no freaking idea. Xander whipped his head round nervously, up, down and sideways but couldn't see any change. His body sagged with relief {{Whew! At least the wheels didn't fall off. Weird. Okay, Xander. No more playi...}}�

Every window turned black.�

{{What the....}}�

"FUCK!"�

One foot automatically hit the brake, locking up the wheels. Twenty-five tones of metal-plus cargo went careening across the highway like a rattlesnake with a broken back.�

*******�

Directly behind the curtain, Spike crouched on his knees happily sorting out his lollies, by color, then size. A devious smirk on his lips and still chuckling softly at how Xanpet had sidestepped the whole Angel prezzie idea, and vowed to pursue the matter at some later time. He lit up his first smoke of the journey and waited in anticipation for Xander's inevitable protest.�

One second of warning was not enough.�

His mind registered Xander's exclamation of surprise, while his own body jettisoned forward with frightening speed; into the curtain and through the air until he hit something that was fucking hard "UUGH!" bounced backwards "EUUERK!".�

Fighting to untangle himself from the black cloth, Spike was propelled forward once more "OOOOOMPH!" became very familiar with the dashboard-- "SHIIIIT" and slid to the floor. Was subsequently tossed around like a martini made by a trapeze artist "FUUUUU-OOOMPH!" Until the world ceased spinning and ground to a halt.�

Hissing savagely, Spike ripped the cloth away, rose up in full game face and screamed "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"�

And for some reason that would forever continue to elude him; still clutching the mashed stub of a cigarette in his right hand.�

*******�

Xander heard and saw- nothing. His whole mind stuck in a slow motion replay of Spike's body crashing into the cabin, an occurrence he knew the vampire would not survive. After that, he was submerged in this white world of shock.�

{{I've killed him. I've killed him. Killed, killed, killed...}}�

And he couldn't even cry. Someone had just gutted him with a fishhook,everything inside was gone. {{Why does it hurt so much when I'm all empty?}}�

Cool tendrils caressed his face, a reminder of Spike so he leaned into them. Was pretty much set to stay there for a while yet there was this soft soothing sound ...{{God! I have so lost it}}�

"C'mon pet, talk to Spike. Xander? Thaaat's it luv. C'mon, focus. We can chat about how you turned me into a soddin' tenderized piece of steak another time. Xander?"�

Blink.�

"This tall silent thing is not a good look on you," an aggrieved voice underlined by concern muttered. "Besides, Peaches will get shitty if you knick off with 'is marketing strategy."�

Smell was Xander's entry into reality. The scent of cigarettes and leather, underlined by the musk of Spike.�

"Spike?"�

"Its about bloody time," the vampire snapped with relief.�

Xander clenched his fist in Spike's t-shirt and buried his face into a slim neck. "I thought I'd killed you."�

Spike's grip tightened accompanied by a snort of derision. "I'm not some namby pamby human you idiot. Take more than this little speed hump to damage me."�

"But...daylight-vampire-Spike-dust." Wrenching himself away, Xander glared at the rumpled figure. "You should be dead," he wildly exclaimed. "Why aren't you dead?"�

With an evil grin, Spike nodded at the windows "Life's just full of disappointments, ain't it."�

"Oh my God." Xander found himself leaning forward and staring *through* what had to be the most tinted glass he'd ever seen in his entire life. "Is this stuff legal?"�

"Only you," Spike shook his head in exasperation, hauling Xander back into his arms. "We have a trailer full of stolen goodies and you're worried about the *windows* being illegal?"�

Xander twisted his body round, utilizing the leverage he had to push Spike until the blonde was sprawled across the front seat. Gazing down with bemused wonder at the mischievous blue eyes twinkling up at him, Xander shuddered.�

{{I almost lost Spike in *traffic* accident!}}�

He watched as Spike's expression became troubled "What are you- ummmphf"�

"No talking," Xander scolded, briefly interupting his exploration of what he considered in his own humble experience to be the best set of lips ever to grace the Hellmouth.�

And found himself smiling against those lips as Spike, who was never one to waste an opportunity, particularly if sex was involved, deftly hooked his leg round Xander's to bring about closer contact.�

A low growl from the brunette when two hands cupped his buttocks and things began to spiral out of control.�

Or would have, if that insidious music increasing in volume with each passing second would just shut up for a minute- or twenty. When did they turn the radio on?�

The Viking was fully intent on plundering what was his and the rest of the world could go to hell. Xander would generously offer directions and a detailed map-if that sound slowly but surely drilling a hole in his brain would GO AWAY!�

Spike's undulations, which moments ago had been decidedly erotic, changed as the vampire vainly attempted to extricate himself; in a half-hearted don't really want to do this kind of way.�

"Xan.."�

"Sshhh. Busy"�

Kiss.�

Spike appeared to go with the flow for a moment or two but spoiled everything by easing his mouth away.�

" Pet, I really think..." then arched his back in ecstasy "...yesss."�

{{Ha!}}�

Xander's lips and tongue followed that blue vein from Spike's collarbone to back of his ear like it was sprinkled with sugar.�

{{Helloooo earlobe}}�

Nibble.�

Involved as he was in 'matters of high importance'. Xander failed to see the look of pure bliss replaced by shock as Spike's gaze drifted over Xander's shoulders.�

"BLOODY HELL!"�

Xander swore proficiently as his nose hit the leather upholstery when Spike shot upright in alarm and scooted to the far side of the cabin.�

That tune, which was catchy in a grind your kinda teeth way, was almost deafening.�

Thoroughly pissed off with current events, Xander's baleful glare settled on the driver's side window, on which Spike's eyes were fixated.�

All color leached from his face as he stared ....�

... straight at a Highway Patrol's stern visage pressed up against the glass in a futile attempt to see inside.�

"Oh. Shit," he gasped�

It was only then, and way, way too late, that Xander recognized the tune. {{It's not my fault}} he wailed silently, belatedly cursing more interesting activities which had kept him away from late night re-runs.�

{{I haven't seen Hawaii Five-O in ages}}�

As the State Trooper continued to peer inside, the very air and space within the cabin seemed to warp. Xander attempted to say something, to *do* something, but for reasons beyond his comprehension he felt mired in glue.�

Concern for the well being of the occupants made the next move inevitable. The trooper decided to try the door.�

***�

Time and motion, from a human perspective, has this annoying habit of contracting and expanding in a way that must be fascinating to scientist's around the globe.�

No doubt some white coat with an obscene amount of grant money and letters after their name has already worked out why this occurs. Quiet frankly, Xander didn't give a rat's ass, he was smack dab in the middle of one of these vortexes and had better things to do- thank you very much.�

He likened the whole experience similar to that of being the passenger in a teensy weensy slot car struggling round a bedroom racetrack. Marked by lightning bursts of speed one second, and bone jarring stops the next.�

Passenger is the operative word here, 'cause being the driver would indicate some form of control and God knows Xander has none of *that* at the moment.�

And where is Spike? No room in the front of this slot car for blondie. Spike would probably be in the trunk. No doubt going ape shit about the bumps, with swearing punctuated by diatribes of yelling for more speed.�

Xander couldn't even remember if he'd locked the door- of the truck not the slot car- and see? Time and motion fuck with your brain.�

Until everything narrows down into that slim tight bandwidth when the vortex contracts, and BANG!�

You're back.�

Reality.�

*******�

Too little, too late, too slow- Xander lunged for the door in the knowledge he would never make it. The trooper had a grip on the handle of the door and pulled....�

PHZZZAT! ... and disappeared from view as he went flying backwards in the air a good ten feet, back arched in a perfect bow like he'd been pulled by string- or electrified.�

Face pressed up against the window, Xander's fear and heady relief is now marked by concern for a man only doing his job. It wasn't right that the troopers reward was to lay flat on his back in the middle of the road barely conscious.�

"He looks pissed." Spike's chin rested on Xander's shoulder as the vampire stared down with malevolent glee at the poor public servant.�

"What did you *do*?" And Xander knew that his own guilt played a factor in the harshness of his words.�

Spike recoiled. "Oi! Don't go blaming me. What did *you* do? I wasn't the one playing with the fancy doo dah's in the front here," and tapped his own forehead. "Still chipped. Remember?"�

Xander flung up his arms protesting his innocence. "I didn't do anything."�

"Well then who did? The bloody tooth fairy?"�

And the radio, which had been silent, spluttered into life again.�

//Bad boys, bad boys watchya gonna do? Whatchya gonna do when they come for you... //�

In unison two heads swiveled to look at the radio, and there was what could only be called an uncomfortable silence.�

"Spike?"�

"Errrr, yeah?"�

"I want you to really think about this question I'm about to ask and don't give me any of your bullshit. 'kay?"�

"Yeah."�

Xander took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Where did you get this rig?"�

Spike edged across the leather seat, his body now between the radio and Xander, never moving his eyes from the seemingly inoffensive item. "Don't know 'sactley."�

"YOU DON"T KNOW?"�

"Sshhhhh." Spike nodded towards the dashboard and stage whispered. "Don't upset it."�

"It's a *radio*, Spike." Xander snapped.�

The vampire turned slightly, maintaining eye contact on the radio and drawled. "Didn't see no radio when the copper went flying, luv."�

"Oh."�

Spike nodded emphatically. "Yeah"�

And so, back to staring at the digital readout. Which indicated no station in particular that Xander knew of, but if it wasn't HLMTHROQ he'd eat porridge for a month.�

A twitchy flinch from Xander when the song stopped and the readout darkened. Spike was utterly motionless, coiled in that undead stillness vampires assumed just before they ripped out your throat.�

After a while, Xander craned his neck in order to see outside, resting his gaze on the trooper as the man struggled to get to his feet.�

"I'm gonna see if he's alright," he stated abruptly, moving to exit the truck only to find progress halted by a white hand firmly gripping his arm. "Let me go, Spike."�

Aloof, Spike shook his head. "It ain't happenin' so just forget it. No bloody way are you going outside to chat with a pissed off cop. If anything happens I can't help you."�

Xander's face darkened with stubborn resistance as he bit back the unspoken truth that sunlight not withstanding, Spike couldn't have helped him against the human anyway. A sneak peak at the vampire and the bitterness shimmering in blue eyes told him Spike knew it as well.�

The Mexican standoff failed to materialize as one again the Knorr took matters out of their hands.�

A thin sliver appeared in the tinted windshield. Running from top to bottom it gradually widened until Spike yelped in pain as sunlight stung his hand.�

The hand which was preventing Xander from leaving.�

The gap widened inch by inch as it tracked the fully vamped out Spike. Clutching his smoking hand against his chest, the vampire was forced to retreat from the deadly rays, and further away from Xander.�

A Xander still protected from the sunlight and who suddenly found inspiration before it was almost too late.�

"That's *enough*," he ordered forcefully.�

It was difficult to tell exactly who was more surprised when it halted its progress. Xander addressed the radio like he was talking to a bad puppy "Now look. I know you think you're helping me here but you're *not*. Spike was just trying to stop me from getting hurt."�

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, pet?" Spike interrupted anxiously.�

"Talking to a truck with a hellmouthy guardian angel complex?" Xander joked in a hopeful voice. "I'm just winging it here blondie, feel free to jump in anytime."�

Spike opened and closed his mouth a few times. Eventually he shrugged in resignation and waved a hand indicating it was Xander's show.�

The brunette smiled weakly at his lover to show some sort of confidence he was definitely *not* feeling, before once again started up his one sided conversation.�

"This is pretty freaky. I mean, I'm well, you know- me. And you... you're a... a truck," he said, ignoring the derisive snort from Spike. "So I have no clue if I'm doing this right but you are seriously wigging me out here so just deal, 'kay?"�

The radio stayed silent. Xander took that as a good sign and his confidence grew. "Spike can't hurt me and I would be really... upset if anything hurt *him*."�

"Upset?" Spike growled incredulously. "If something happened to me all you'd be is *upset*?"�

Xander groaned, "Can we discuss this another time?"�

"No we cannot discuss this another bloody time," Spike fumed. "I save your arse from seven demons. Rescue you from cops in Sunnyhell..."�

"...got us *both* thrown in jail," Xander retorted.�

"Risk my undead life and limbs busting *us* out of jail..."�

"...after staging your own porn video ...."�

Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh please, I'm not the one who's watched it *fourteen* times."�

Xander blushed. "Have not."�

"Have to."�

"Not"�

"To."�

// Like a viiirrgin, plucked for the very first tiiimmme.//�

Spike sniggered and said. "He was no virgin by then I can tell you that for certain."�

"SPIKE!"�

Unrepentant, the vampire continued chatting to his new found partner in crime. "You should see Xander when he comes. He's gorgeous. His skin flushes and he makes these little moans that go straight to me cock and ...."�

// life is a highwaay. I wanna ride it all night long//�

The vampires dark eyebrows rose "You *do* know what I'm talking about, a truck of the world hey? So, is there a little Dodge pickup waiting for you back in Sunnyhell?"�

Somewhere, and Xander wasn't quite sure when exactly, he'd totally lost control of the situation. The Knorr and Spike were now deeply involved in discussing their respective sex lives, and no, he wasn't going to even attempt to comprehend that one.�

"I'm going outside to see the cop," and was rewarded by silence.�

Spike grinned, folded his arms across his chest in smug satisfaction "Bet he won't let you." But the humor dissipated in seconds.�

// I'm so sorry I'm so sorrry// and Xander's door opened up just a crack.�

The vampire tensed immediately and swore "Shit!"�

"Ha!" Xander shot back in petty gleeful triumph. "What the Xandman wants the Xandman gets." Hesitating, he gestured towards to window and asked "Ummmm do you think you could... you know?"�

The front window returned to its fully tinted state.�

"Thanks."�

Spike was by his side in a microsecond radiating concern. "Xander...."�

"It's okay," Xander pressed a hard kiss on the vampire lips and turned to leave. Spike hauled him back for another, and another.�

Xander reluctantly broke contact and made to leave only to falter once more. In the space of less than ten minutes he'd almost lost Spike twice and who knew what was going to happen outside?�

Some things just have to be said.�

As he gazed at the vampire, Xander finally threw the mask of emotional protection he'd worn for so long away. "Love you," he whispered shyly before exiting the truck with all the speed he could muster.�

Outside, Xander rested a flushed brow on a cool metal door, trembling in shock at what he'd said, just revealed, to a soulless killer demon. He did not regret the confession, but the manner in which it was delivered was embarrasing.�

Opening up like some melodramtic hero off to fight the good fight. "Wonderful!" he moaned. "Since when did I start channeling Clarke Gable?"�

A heart felt sigh later, Xander awkwardly patted the Knorr and gave what he sincerely hoped were *not* his last instructions. "Look after him for me will you?"�

Spike had his nose practically drilling a hole through the glass. A prisoner, contained by invisible rays of light. His expression a mixture of wonder and outright bone chilling fear.�

Without once removing his attention from Xander, the vampire spat out his own instructions. "I don't give a fuck what you have to do or who you have to kill. But he's getting *back* in this truck. Got it?"�

After his outburst instructing Knorr to take what ever action necessary to � keep Xander alive, Spike uttered a stream of fiery oaths. Never had he felt� so useless as he watched Xander approach the semi-conscious highway� patrolman.�

If anything happened...�

"I just 'ad to fall for someone with the survival instinct of a friggin'� lemming, didn't I?"�

Xander's stubborn determination and refusal to back down from dangerous� situations was as sexy as hell, but not when Spike was unable to protect� him.�

" And he loves me." Spike's eyes grew wide as the words tripped easily from� his tongue. "Satan's balls! He loves ME!!"�

For one of the few times in recent memory, Spike was disappointed he� couldn't see his reflection, no doubt he was grinning like a loon.�

Still, his eyes remain glued on *his* Xander. Tall, broad shouldered, that� goatee his love had grown since the frat party giving Xander's appearance a� rakish air, hips that swayed ....�

Spike smacked himself in head. {{Concentrate, you twat! Perve later or you� might not have anything left to perve on!!}}�

His lips curled and a low rumbling snarl filled the cabin as the uniformed� figure stood. "One hand. Do you hear me, copper? You lay one hand on him and� you're dead. I will rip out your....."�

***********�

A certain truck was wondering if a certain blonde demon came equipped with a� muffler. And if not, why his dark haired young captain had not rectified� this gross oversight at the first opportunity.�

His captain. To be honest, Knorr had been dubious on first meeting. After� all, it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that *someone* had been� hitting the ale just a little too early that day. He could see the scene� quite clearly, a raucous bellow of "Helga! More ale with the cereal," and� whammo; Knorr's in California when he should have been in Greenland.�

. Like *that* hadn't happened before. And would he *ever* live down� that movie with Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis? Tyres temporarily deflated as� he recalled the humiliation of a Brooklyn accent bellowing orders on his� deck.�

Yes, Knorr had been wary indeed when he'd first found himself in Sunnydale.� He'd perked up considerably once it became clear they were on a raid. And� when the captain had blown up the castle? Heh. He'd almost unfurled a sail� right there on the spot.�

Currently though, he was less than pleased. His captain had left the safety� of the rig, leaving Knorr alone with 'The Creature'. A situation which he� hadn't minded much at first, until its mouth opened; Knorr was still waiting� for it to close again.�

How a little *thing* such as this made could make so much incessant noise�was beyond him.�

His already limited patience had been pushed to breaking by enduring seven� agonizing minutes, (digital timekeeping devices were a mixed blessing� indeed) of psychotic ranting and half completed threats. Which the vampire� insisted upon emphasizing with by smacking a clenched fist against *his*� upholstery.�

"No,no,NO," and oars/pistons twitched in irritation as the demons howl of� frustration ended with a strangled falsetto scream.�

"Let 'im use his own soddin hankie to stop the bleeding you great git.� Pause. "Oh,Christ! Don't *talk* to 'im, pet. The Royal Family lies better� than you. Belt him over the head, take 'is gun and ram it up 'is...."�

Such comments were usually followed by a yelp of pain and much clutching of� the head.�

And so on and so forth.�

It was enough to make a Knorr long for the good old days, since Vikings� weren't renowned for their conversation on board, preferring to save such� matters for when a hefty mug of ale and a warm fire were close by.�

Speaking of which, he really did need to know what was going on with the new� captain. If he angled his side mirror to *there*, and twisted it a little� bit like *that*. Damn. All he could see was a back.�

What about if he extended .....Ah hah! A perfect view of.....oh. A startled� and none too pleased expression staring straight back into his mirror.� Hmmmm, with a hand pressed against a leg making frantic 'cease and desist'� motions.�

Now this 'policeman' was staring too. Narrow, suspicious gaze. Lalalalala.� Nobody here but me and the motor mouth. . Have to remember that one� for the Valkyries when he got back home.�

"What are you up to?" Blonde one was making 'grrrr' noises at him.�

For Odin's sake! What was wrong with these fleshy creatures?�

Knorr had a difficult time grasping this whole policeman concept. His own� record with authority figures, (which was rather checkered, to say the� least) wasn't making it any easier.�

Excellent, they were moving, coming close enough to tune in.�

"....illegal? Are you sure officer? I know the tinting is a bit darker than� normal...."�

Covert 'I told you so' glare by the captain reaches its target.�

Blue eyes roll knowingly. "Bollocks! I'm never going to hear the end of that� one now." Next moment the demons face is pressed up against the front�
window.�

"Thaaats it, pet. Bring on round up the front here, away from passin'� traffic. One hit, s'all you have to do luv. One ....NO! What are you....?� Don't let him take down the soddin' plate number!!�

Click.�

Outside, goggle eyed expressions abounded.�

"Son?"�

Nervous jump from the captain and a stuttered response of "Errr, yes� officer? Sir?"�

"Would you like to explain that."�

"That? I didn't see any .... Oh gosh, you mean *that* Plymouth which just� whizzed past? Must have been doing ninety. I'll understand perfectly if you� feel the need to after him."�

Steady penetrating glare as the patrolman refuses to take the bait. "Don't� push me kid. I don't need you to tell me how to do my job. Why don't you� concentrate on explaining why one second I'm looking at a California licence� plate and the next it's from Ohio?"�

"Astral projection maybe?" No so much a question but a hopeful plea.�

"Astral pro...WHAT? Are you smiling? Do *I* look like I find this funny?"�

"Actually.... no. And this is not a smile, it's more a please help me type� of grimace. You'd be surprised how often I use it...or not."�

*Sigh*, Knorr couldn't believe it. Now The Creature had started up again, he� seemed distressed with what was happening outside.�

And what, "Rip out your fucking lungs as soon as I can find 'em, you� overgrown Matchbox toy," lacked in logic was more than made up for by the� startling imagery it presented.�

Knorr deeply suspected that the vampire's rudder was a bit wobbly and in� need of dire repair.�

Once again focusing his attention where it should be, Knorr saw that the� short swarthy uniformed figure was grasping the captain's not very little� upper arm and gesturing wildly.�

".....see how funny you think this is when you're in a cell and your rig is� impounded. I have this sudden curiosity to see exactly what you're carrying� in that trailer back there."�

His captain seemed alarmed. "Cell? As in jail? But...but this isn't my� fault. Its *his*," pointing a finger directly at Knorr.�

Knorr preened, so rarely did he receive the credit he was due. He really did� like this young man, who was becoming quite vocal.�

".....got to be Christine's older brother-on steroids. Oh c'mon! You've� *never* read Stephen King? Oookay, what about Bram Stocker 'cause I have a� perfectly good excuse for the stuff in the trailer...."�

Perhaps this policeman was a Celt, Knorr mused.�

Sore losers the lot of 'em who had *never* forgiven his Vikings for their� little shopping expeditions. That would explain all this aggravation.�

Knorr wasn't particularly fond of Celts either truth be told.�

His captain's complexion had taken on the color of a white sail. *Humph*� Right. Well that just *wasn't* allowed. No touching of the captain was� permitted. He'd tried to be reasonable about this and look at the result.�

One lesson held true throughout the ages.�

There were those who sailed with the Knorr; and those who didn't. And many a� fish had dined well on the latter.�

**********�

Xander shifted uneasily in the drivers seat. Checked the side mirror for any� sign of pursuit. None yet. A black plume of smoke curling ever upwards� marked the spot. If he tried real hard, scrunching up his eyes in that way� Willow always said made him look like he was auditioning for B grade� detective movie, his vivid imagination took over, allowed him to turn the� smoke into storm clouds.�

{{This is just great. What is it with us and cops? Pissing off the locals in� Sunnydale wasn't enough so we're going state wide? Note to self: stay away� from anything wearing a uniform in L.A.}}�

He was pretty sure he was getting an ulcer, if this tight knot in his� stomach was any indication. Which was a pity, 'cause it wasn't like he� wasn't having enough trouble with his brain; which was locked on what words� rhymed with 'Folsom' and phrases like 'Ladies and gentlemen of the jury'.� Maybe if he offered to pay for the patrol car?�

{{Suuuure, that would work.}}�

*Snort*�

{{C'mon Xander! Focus. You're coming apart at the seams here}}. If he kept� this up he'd be a blithering nut case by the time they reached L.A.�

And speaking of nut cases....�

// I am sailing. I am saaaailing.......//�

Following some half-hearted snarled comment that sounded like "wanker 'as� knicked off with me smokes," Spike was involved in an investigation of the� crack running between the seat. Head down, his arse poking up in the air,� slim hips swaying slightly as he hummed along with Knorr.�

Between them, they somehow managed to turn what Xander had always considered� to be a melancholy love song into a jaunty ditty.�

"May I ask," he questioned in an icy voice. "Exactly why you two are so� cheerful?�

"What was that? Hang on a sec I'm almost there," came the muffled response.� Spike's arm was currently swallowed up to the elbow as he delved into an� area usually forbidden to all comers except lost money and half eaten candy.�

"I said....."�

"AHA! Got 'em you thievin' bastard," the vampire crowed triumphantly at� Knorr.�

And Xander thought- emphasised by a sullen pout- that as someone who not so� long ago had just blurted out his true feelings, he was entitled to be just� a *tad* miffed at the moment.�

Spike had been suitably energetic when Xander finally re-entered the truck.� The vampire appearing like he couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to� kiss Xander or check him out for injuries before finally settling on both.�

The expected caustic verbal barbs had fallen on deaf ears.�

"I'm not sorry for pushing the cop out of the way, Spike." Xander had� retorted heatedly. "And if Knorr wants his harpoon back so badly then he� shouldn't have tried the 'patrolman on a skewer' manoeuvre."�

"Knorr doesn't want it back, pet." Spike had griped. "Since Big Ugly here� turned the patrol car into a barbecue on wheels, you could 'ave at least� toasted me up some marshmallows."�

Never one to avoid the obvious, Spike made a production of stuffing a piece� of the aforementioned candy into his own mouth and chewed, loudly.�

Satisfied that his point had been made, the vampire then proceeded to sulk"� But if you're going to be all pissy about it then let's go."�

Not once following that conversation had Spike mentioned Xander's� declaration of love. Oh sure, Xander knew he'd broken their unspoken rule,� emotional 'stuff' was something they had both skirted around in the past.�

Like it was an invisible 'point of no return' sign they both wanted to� ignore but couldn't.�

And this 'time-out' left him swinging freely in the breeze without a thing� to hold.�

Bitter smile. {{ So. This is what it feels like to go sky-diving}}�

*****�

Spike peered inside his treasure, and the delighted expression slid from his� face. With a forceful exclamation of "Shit!", he up ended the crumpled pack,� shook it - empty.�

Short significant pause marked by a blonde head turning slowly to stare� malevolently at the radio. Spike erupted into action,� a black clad whirlwind delivering a flurry of vicious kicks at the� dashboard.�

Throughout it all, Knorr remained silent.�

The attack wound down when his feet started to hurt. At which point the� vampire sniffed in disdain, knowing his actions had accomplished little.� {{Was worth it}} he told himself, and went back to trying to retrieve his� smokes.�

Only to suffer a small twinge of ....concern, when Knorr finally returned a� salvo of its own.�

// You are miiiine. Any tiiiime. There's no time like the right time.//�

Ignoring the byplay for now, Xander drove like an automaton while his head� wrestled with more important matters.�

{{Was I wrong to say I loved him? I thought he loved me. Otherwise, why did he go ape when he found out about Drac? }}�

His emotions see-sawed wildly between absolute doubt and total conviction� every few seconds, as the minutes of quiet driving stretched on endlessly.�

The silence broken only by an occasional comment from Spike to Knorr."You� can't even smoke you dopey bastard! So stop stuffin' around and give 'em� back. I'm warnin' you, I know a bloke in L.A. who can turn you into scrap� metal quicker than you can change gears."�

Still wrestling with his emotions, Xander made no effort to participate or halt the bickering.�

Xander had to wipe sweaty palms on jeans, and his teeth were clamped� together with force, tightly enough to make his jaw ache, increasing the� whole 'unhappy Xander' feeling.�

Another twenty minutes of angst and the see-saw evened out with the total conviction end slightly 'up'.�

Xander recalled Spike waking up after the frat party, in a bed covered full of wood shavings and telling Xander that his carving on the axe was a work� of art.�

Xander remembered how the vampire made him feel, confident and assertive.� With something useful to contribute.�

Waking up, cheek resting on a marble white chest, being held like he was� made of precious china.�

He let these memories convince him. Whether that was wishful thinking on his� part or not, Xander grasped it like a lifeline.�

Disappointment vied with self-righteous anger. He'd put everything on the� line and Spike was more interested in cigarettes, marshmallows and arguing with Knorr. {{Well *fuck that*!}}�

Dark, almost coal black eyes filled with anger and confusion stared the� back of a dark green Volvo. A deft swerve at the last moment to avoid� collision, after brief consideration of a little test to see if all that� safety mumbo jumbo the ads raved about was actually true.�

{{Knorr might get upset. Could be a cousin or something}}. And if that were� the case would Knorr admit it? Perhaps with a rumbling sigh and "Everyone� has nerds in their family" type of song.�

{{Are Volvos the pocket calculator carriers of the automotive world?}}�
And look, there were the Rosx demons. Patiently waiting at the side of the road for Xander and Spike to catch up. Xander waved casually as the rig� whistled past them.�

A sigh escaped him, along with a deep, niggling sense of missed opportunity� as he thought about that Volvo.�

"Let me *go* you tosser," a voice snarled.�

And Xander is reminded of what has him so pissed off, what started all this� inner turmoil, this hurt. Instinctive reaction to return that pain tenfold.�

{{Did Giles ever worry about the details of torture and maiming so� expansively described in the books we read?}}�

Xander's grin was chilling, and if Spike's face hadn't been mashed into� leather at this point, the vampire would have realized he had bigger things� to worry about than Knorr.�

Sharp jolt of self-awareness and Xander pulls himself back from the brink of� some metaphysical pit his toes were edging. This...this stirring compulsion,� inflicting pain to cover pain. Darkness is there, always has been always� will be.�

The Viking is as close as he wants to get. The Viking still loves and cares,� beyond that is a twisted coil of something that is terrifying. Had a glimpse� once or twice, up close and personal to his own inner shadow-can't go� there-*will not* go there.�

"Pet? Might need a little help here," came the plea. Spike was tugging� frantically, trying to remove his arm, without much success. His gyrations� appeared made it seem like he was doing the tango with a cattleprod.�

How *very* appealing. {{I may love you blondie, but I'm still pissed}}�

Xander's scathing glare savoured the scene taking place. The vampire's arm� was still wedged and Knorr seemed reluctant to let it go.�

{{Good}}.�

"Luv?"�

"I don't even *like* you at the moment, Spike. You can stay there."�

One or two heartbeats and a few muffled epithets later.�

"What's crawled into your jockstrap?"�

Which wasn't dignified with an answer because Xander was cruising beside one� of those van thingies he'd been thinking about earlier. Mom and Dad with two� kiddies, casting rather nervous glances in his direction.�

He gazed at them with a twinge of envy, then shrugged. He already had� everything he wanted. Why crave normal when being different left you waking� up in the morning snuggled next to Spike?�

Still, a small measure of unease crawled down his spine. To Xander, Spike� seemed Heaven sent, but he had a sneaking suspicion that if he read the� postmark too closely, he'd get a quick look at Hell.�

Deception was not his forte; he'd always sucked at it, and probably always� would. Besides, it made him itch.�

Somehow, somewhere, his relationship with Spike was going to become known.� Xander had no crystal ball, the future was unclear, but he was absolutely� positive that at what would probably be the least convenient moment� possible, his careful little secret would come crashing down around him.�

That would be ok, he thought, providing that in the background, or knowing� Spike, in the foreground, Xander had something to hold on to.�

But he needed to *know* before he could go forward with any degree of� certainty. Needed to know when he faced what ever was coming, that he� could turn round and with absolute certainty say "Spike loves me."�

Xander gatecrashed his own pity party with a snort, reached into a shirt� pocket and lit up one of Spike's cigarettes that he'd absconded with� earlier. Exhaled with a strange sense of calm,if Spike wanted to play the� game this way then perhaps it was time Xander showed that he had been� listening to some of Spike's lessons on life.�

{{ I've brawled in a jail cell with three bikers, and strolled out with� barely a scratch. Spike, oh love of mine. You are going to seriously regret� pissing me off.}}�

Strangled choking sounds were coming from Spike. Xander met astonished blue� eyes with an indifferent blink.�

"You're smoking!!"�

"Undead life's full of surprises, Spike."�

Spike's frantic efforts to extract himself from Knorr ceased abruptly.�

*******�

Cheek plastered up against black leather, Spike blinked rapidly, trying to� comprehend what the bloody hell had just happened. There was this stranger� wearing Xander's face and to borrow a phrase from the Slayer, it was� "seriously creeping him out."�

Grunting with the effort, Spike twisted his body like an eel, wriggled a� shoulder and craned his neck to enable a decent view. An upside down vision� of Xander was his reward.....�

"Oi!"�

.....and an elbow in the temple as the brunette changed gears.�

"Sorry about that," Xander apologised with the utmost insincerity.�

"Look, Xander," Spike wheedled. "Have a chat with this tin can of yours so I� can get loose and we can talk about this."�

"About what?"�

Spike didn't even bother to muffle his swearing. "I don't bloody *know*.� Okay? But you're pissed, 'nd seein' I'm the only one here at the moment� you're obviously pissed at *me*."�

His next words were aimed more at himself than Xander. "Christ! Sometimes� you're so like Dru it's freaky. You both expect me to be a friggin' mind� reader. Well I'm *not*. Alright?"�

Xander took a breath, which on later reflection was where Spike was pretty� certain they entered the Twilight Zone.�

"A *woman*? Are saying I'm a WOMAN?" Xander yelped in disgust; and sent a� silent apology to the Fiat he had just run off the road.�

Dull 'thud' as Spike hit the seat in frustration with his free hand. "Don't� be so bleedin' stupid," he said, then stuffed it up totally by adding.� "You'd never manage the high heels and the thought what your legs would look� like in tights is enough to scare even me."�

Xander's face paled.�

Spike couldn't believe what had just come out of his own mouth. His� subsequent scramble to gain points only sank him further. "But, errr, bet� you'd look nummy with long hair, pet. I'd still shag you."�

Xander's pale features were joined by a mouth stretched into a thin hard� line.�

It was fortunate that vampires weren't effected by temperature, Spike� thought. Because if he was any judge, the air in the rig had just turned� extremely icy.�

"Why thank you, Spike." Xander drawled sarcastically. "I'm ever so overcome� with gratitude. Perhaps I should..."�

"Xander?" Spike cut in.�

"What?" came the sullen reply.�

"Shut up for a sec. Will you, luv?" Spike rubbed his face in an attempt to� gather his thoughts. Something in his tone must have worked, Xander lapsed� into silence. But the mortals stone face was doing little to help Spike� work out what he'd done wrong.�

{{Christ! I must love the git, if this were anyone else but Xander or� Dru...}} and the anvil finally fell. Eyes narrowed and a small hiss escaped� his lips.�

{{Bugger it! Bugger humans and their talky feely ways. Bugger 'im for doing� this to me. Bugger me for lovin' him. Bugger, bugger....oh fuck it! Why am I� even trying to find an excuse to get out of this?}}�

Did Xander have any idea of the consequences? That once Spike openly claimed� the human that he would brook interference from no-one? Any clue to the� overwhelming possessive and obsession crazed nature of the demon?�

A demon dancing with joyous abandon inside Spike's head chanting "Mine,� mine, mine."�

How much that thought excited him, and this vague bloody annoying little� voice becoming louder with each passing second which said Xander would never� stand for that type of treatment. That he deserved better.�

He could not fight what was his nature, set in concrete that Xander would be� his until death. Spike just needed time to calm down a bit before he did� something stupid. Faced up to the fact that it was Xander-human he loved and� that Xander-demon might not be so ....appealing.�

Lips crook into a smile, the irony of this little battle not lost upon him.�

Okay. Deep unrequired breath. He could do this. On bended knee if pressed, but sod it, he drew the line at this whole arm trapped in the upholstery� thing. A vampire has some dignity.�

Another crooked smile. {{Love and dignity in the same sentence- 's like� honor among thieves- just doesn't work}}�

Perhaps if he stalled things for a bit? Distracted his nummy and with some� luck... Spike's plan crashed as soon as he linked himself with the four� letter word that he personally *knew* hated his guts.�

{{Bollocks!}}�

Still, he had to try.�

{{ This is ridiculous. I'm being held hostage by Xander and 'is toy� truck!!!!}}�

"I'm feeling a bit peeky, luv. Must be gettin' car sick or somethin'. You� wouldn't want me throw up all over the place now would you?"�

//Sunshine on my shoulderrr makes me happpy//�

"SOD OFF!!"�

"I personally, would not be annoying Knorr at the moment," Xander chided� with a grin. And yeah, the little prick was grinning, Spike could *see*� that.�

What he *couldn't* see were tears, not even a trembling lip. Just dogged� determination. That stubborn, 'I'm gonna see this thing through if it kills� me' look Xander got from time to time. An expression which changed to� calculating as the whelp tensed in his seat.�

{{Oh this can't be good.}}�

" Can you reach the seatbelt,Spike?"�

"Can I...? Of *course* I can't reach the fucking seatbelt."�

"That's a shame," Xander crooned smoothly.�

//Desperadoooo. Why don't you come to your senses...//�

Spike almost snapped his neck trying to glare at the radio and hissed " You� and I 'ave an appointment with a wrecking ball real soon."�

"Don't pick on Knorr," Xander's attention was riveted on something up in the� sky. " And I'd appreciate you being quiet, Spike. I'm going to be busy in a� moment, you're distracting me."�

{{Busy?}}�

It was truly an indication of just how messed up he was, that Spike only now� heard the rotor blades of a helicopter and the distant wail of sirens.�

With a groan his whole posture slumped in defeat, then enuciated his next� words clearly, a wish made out loud. " Gonna find me a warlock in L.A., and� every copper between here and Sunnydale is going to wake up tomorrow morning� with body parts fallin' off and green soddin' puss leakin' from every� friggin' orifice on their soddin' bodies."�

"Spike! What part of 'quiet' didn't you understand?"�


"AAARRRRRRRGH!!!"�

Xander chewed anxiously on a fingernail as he waited for Spike to arrive� back. Just past noon in L.A., black as midnight, and the rain was coming� down sideways. Looked like he'd been right about those storm clouds after� all.�

Fogged up glass meant he couldn't see shit, leaving him so jumpy you'd have� thought it was his first night on patrol with Buffy. But three and half� hours of playing tag with about every cop in the state of California would� do that to any guy, he supposed.�

Spike had bolted from the rig at the instant they'd shuddered to a halt.� Knorr was now parked under an overpass in some semi-derelict part of L.A.,� Xander had watched Spike go with a mixture of dread and relief.�

He also found it incredibly ironic they were parked across from a bail bond� office. Fortunately the 'out to lunch' sign was on the door, otherwise he� might have been tempted to walk in.�

Despite vocal encouragement during what Spike called their " Kick arse� convoy from the Hellmouth," the vampire seemed withdrawn.�

Things were 'off' between them, Xander knew why and apparently, finally, so� did Spike. Just exactly what happened next though was anybody's guess.�

So, here he was, parked in a 'run down trying to make a come back' part of� L.A with only Knorr for company.�

A short time ago, Knorr had gleefully tuned into a news station for an� update, and was now playing 'Erik the Awful'- non stop. Xander had tried to� outwit the truck by putting on a C.D he'd found, only to have it spat back� out at him, a blackened smoky mess.�

~Sound of hunting horns~�

Xander immediately slammed both hands over his ears wailing "God dammit! Not� again!!!"�


// Way back in history, along the Nordic coast�
That was the sound of all the people feared the most.�
It would echo through the night, up and down the foggy fjords--�
It was Erik and his bloodthirsty horde! //�

Obviously, Knorr was feeling as proud as punch. The score being Police: 0� and Knorr/Xander: 16 (Xander added an extra two points for the helicopter on� account of the difficulty factor.)�

// Erik the Awful�
The brutal and tenacious�
Erik the Awful, the ruthless and courageous�
Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the social graces�
You could run, but you could not hide...//�

Sliding across to the passenger's window, Xander used his sleeve to wipe� away moisture. Stared at the store next to bail bond place, and saw what was� left of a flower shop, grimacing a bit he upped the score to 17.�

The unmarked police car that had crashed through the front of the� establishment now looked like something out of a Rose Bowl parade. Covered� in a variety of petals and four very large wreaths.�

// His momma named him Erik 'cause she couldn't spell "Arrrrrrghhh!"//�

At which point Xander recalled that the wreaths hadn't been there last time� he checked and his head hit glass with a thump as he moaned "Wonderful! Mr� 'I can't possibly work' is a frustrated florist."�

Chances of capture had decreased the instant Knorr changed its appearance to� pristine white and decided to become a carrier for dairy products. And why� the psychotic tin can hadn't done so the very moment they'd driven away from� the first burned-out police car was a question Xander had yet to receive an� answer to.�

// He'd turn to his oarsmen in his thirty-seven oared�
fjord, and say " Heundi Heundi Heuindi..."�
which was Viking for "Yeah! Let's pillage, plunder,�
maim, and put big hickeys on all the fair damsels"//�

Speaking of fair damsels, on spying a black clad soaking wet vamp exit the� shop, Xander scurried back over to his own side. Dripping water like a� leaking dam, Spike flung himself into the cabin, a bag bearing the logo of� the shop they'd just destroyed grasped firmly in his left hand.�

"Do you have any idea the price they're charging these days for bunch of� daffodils days' ?" the vampire asked in amazement. "Bleedin' highway robbery� it is."�

"How is she?"�

Spike blinked innocently "Who?"�

Xander gritted his teeth, his sarcasm cutting "The nice blonde lady whose� car we shoved into a store front window. WHO THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU THINK I� WAS TALKING ABOUT?"�

Spike began to wring out his coat, and after giving Xander the once over his� voice became faintly condescending, "I think you'd better let me take the� wheel on the way back to Sunnyhell, pet. All that driving seems to have� upset you."�

Xander spared the bail office a longing glance, before finally flinging his� arms up into the air asking no one in particular "Why, do I even bother?"�

// And it was Erik the Awful�
The brutal and tenacious,�
Erik the Awful, mercy sakes and goodness gracious.�
His appetite for slaughter was simply voracious�
You had to sleep with your sneakers by your side...//�

"Will you shut-up!" he bellowed at Knorr. Who, for the first time in hours,� actually did what it was told.�

Spike was snickering.�

Xander responded with a dark scowl, and was left regretting his earlier� instructions for Knorr to let Spike loose from where he had been caught� between the seat. Even if it had been fifty minutes into the chase.�

And this... this pretending everything was all right when it wasn't was far� too much. Xander opened his door snarling "Fuck you, Spike! Send me the� fucking money," then corrected himself. "No. Keep it all, I don't fucking� *care*."�

There was some small measure of satisfaction at the sound of the slamming� door, which lasted all of ten paces. Now soaking wet, Xander stood ankle� deep in an overflowing gutter with three dollars and forty-seven cents to� his name wondering how he was going to get home.�

"Move a bit closer to the curb will you," a familiar voice instructed.�

Blinking in an effort to keep water from his eyes, Xander looked up to find� Spike standing on the sidewalk. The vampire had his head cocked to one side� staring up the street.�

"Think I just saw a rat push off on a surfboard at the next corner."�

Xander used the pretence of scratching his goatee to hide the faint� involuntary grin. Kept his face smooth when laser blue pinned him with an� intent stare.�

"Furry little sods will run right over the top of you," Spike continued in a�
conversational tone.�

"This is me not giving a shit," Xander deadpanned. "Unless he's going to� Sunnydale of course," and shrugged. "Hell, I'm already soaked. What's a bit� more water, right? Like I said, Spike. I just don't care any more."�

Thin lips quirk upwards, Spike shook his head. "No, pet. You always care.� Drives me bloody nuts sometimes but it's part of your charm. S'why you fight� next to the Slayer. And why you put up with my sorry arse."�

His lover's demeanor threw Xander off balance. A snarling selfish demon he� could fight with and maybe even walk away from. This soggy contemplative� figure was what he'd fallen head over heels with.�

He scowled, "No fair you being Mr. Nice-guy when I'm busy trying to figure� out how I'm gonna get back home."�

Full-blown Spike grin. "What makes you think I'll let you leave?"�

Xander shuffled uneasily, spied the bag still clutched in Spike's hand and� found himself asking. "What's in the there?"�

Spike stared at the purple plastic dangling from the end of his black-coated� fingertips like it was a complete surprise.�

"Spike?"�

The vampire took a deep shaky breath, and his spine became an iron rod. "� I...Ijustpickedupsomestuff. You know how it goes, motive, opportunity and...� Sod it! I've been watchin' too much telly.Here."�

Opening the bag in trepidation, Xander peered inside. A riot of color and� hues to rival Rosx demons greeted his startled eyes. Water ran off his nose� into the flowers, big goofy smile which he quickly dampened. {{You're gonna� have to work for this one, Spikey}}.�

With simulated indifference, Xander said casually "So, was there a special� on roses?"�

"Roses?" Spike snatched back the bag, rummaging about inside. "Don't be� daft! There's no bloody roses in here," shot Xander a disgusted look. "Don't� you know anything about horticulture?"�

"Nope."�

"These, are daffodils," and Xander took the bunch of yellow flowers Spike� thrust at him.�

"And this lot... "�

"Little daffodils?"�

"Buttercups. You nonce!"�

"Oh," rocking back on his heels, Xander played his game. The most important� game in his young life so far. "Oooh, and those are... errr... "�

Faint growl, "Jasmine! Its soddin' Jasmine!"�

"They look nice with the yellow," Xander uttered in a non-committal way.�

Spike ran a critical eye over the growing bouquet in Xander's arms, grunting� in dissatisfaction at what he saw. Next out were a group which appeared to� be the same, yet in different colors. White, pale pink, and red.�

"Cool. Petunias."�

"They are *not* poncey petunias," came the snarl. "Azaleas, they are called� azaleas," blue eyes *daring* him to argue.�

Large white flowers on a long green stem, Xander snorted. "Now those I know.� Lilies, they always have them at funerals."�

Spike took on a superior air. "I prefer the proper name, belladonna."�

"Aren't they poisonous?"�

Muffled swearing. "I'm a vampire. If you want roses go shag a mortal."�

"Well..." and {{Oooh. Jackpot!}}�

Full game face wet snarly vampire, up close and very personal. "Don't you� even fuckin' *think* about it." Spike grabbed Xander's shirt and started� hauling him back to the truck, as if fearful Xander was going to leave with� the first human the boy could find.�

{{In this part of town? Geez, Spike, give me some credit!}}�

When they reached the drivers door, Xander dug in his heels, refusing to� move an inch. Spike seemed to hesitate, nervous and uncertain but still� pissed off.�

******************

{{Beautiful}}, Xander thought. White hair plastered down around the� vampires head as if it were a pelt. The rain had lightened to a fine mist,� and although the clouds were shifting it was still overcast enough that� Spike was in no immediate danger.�

He let his gaze drink in the figure brisling in front of him, and later on� he will probably be more than a little embarrassed as the words slip from� his mouth. "You know Spike, if vampires have an animal totem out there� somewhere then yours has to be a snow leopard."�

This sudden curve in their confrontation coupled with the breathy wonder in� Xander's voice act like a balm on Spike's frazzled emotions. His body seems� to relax as he listens intently.�

Xander can't help the way his fingertips glide over Spike's face, "Fluid� grace housed within a lean frame, claws sheathed when playful- seen only by� the fortunate few. And like the predator you are, your true beauty shines� when you hunt. Unpredictable explosive power unleashed in the blink of an� eye, a remorseless killer who courts oblivion like a lover."�

It was more intoxicating than anything Xander had ever encountered. Knew� that for a fact on account of the number of times he'd practically dragged� Spike to the nearest shadowed alcove and fucked him senseless after a fight.�

{{Ewww! I think I've just discovered I have a kink}} Disconcerting to� realise he's wondered a lot further south of vanilla than he'd ever� imagined. Even more so when it bothers him hardly at all.�

Spike raises his head slightly, nostrils flare as Xander's arousal is� identified, tasted, savoured. Already acute features seem to become even� more defined as the vampire instinctively responds to his mates desire and� the air is thick with lust, almost tangible. They can both feel it.�

So it is totally unexpected to the mortal when Spike violently slams both� hands on either side of Xander's head, denting Knorr's chassis.�

"Spike! Wha..?"�

"Sshhhh." Spike rests a pale cheek against Xander's unshaven skin, whispers� into his ear "I know what you want to hear."�

Xander draws in a ragged breath, wishes he could hide behind an aloof demeanour, knows it would be lie. Besides, Spike can read him in much same� way as Willow so why bother?�

Doesn't even realise that his eyes are closed until he hears Spike growl�
"Look at me."�

Eyelids flutter open, Spike's face is *clean*. A surface wiped of all� emotion, perfection in marble, while ice blue eyes blazed with an almost� unholy light.�

"I can't promise you much," Spike says, pale fingers reach up to grasp� Xander's chin ensuring he won't look away. "And even if I did your friends� would only tell you I was lying. So I'll promise you nothing but this. There� isn't a part of you I don't want, a part of you I don't need. Won't leave� you. Won't *share* you. You're *mine*."�

Xander opened his mouth to say something but found his vocal cords were on a� holiday in Vegas. His ears were working just fine {{Thank God}}. Faint� vibration against his chest as a result of the rumbling purr emanating from� Spike, it was doing funny things to Xander's insides, like they were� melting. Can feel the flush of *want* as it crawls up his body.�

Spike's nose brushes over Xander's face, "My scent is all over you, luv."� His features contort into something akin to pain, " But in time if we were� separated, that would fade. I can't mark you, can't show how much you belong� to me 'nd it burns me like sunlight. And I didn't protect you against Drac,� I'm a fucking loser who can't even protect you from humans," the last word� spat out with disgust. Disgust at how inadequate he felt.�

"Don't," Xander's voice was hard. " Don't tell me I'm yours then find a way� to say I don't deserve you Spike 'cause it's bullshit!" God he was angry,� how *dare* Spike do this to him. "Do you think it's easy being in love with� my best friends enemy? Do you think it doesn't tear me to pieces knowing one� day you and Buffy are going to face off and I'll have to choose? Spare me� the self pity Spike. I'm human, I don't have the fucking time for this� crap."�

Spike hissed as anger bubbled to the surface.�

With both hands Xander grasped the back of Spike's neck, brought his head� down so that his forehead was resting against the vampire's ridged one. "You� helped show me that I can do anything. You make me laugh, make me want to� bang your head against a wall 'cause surprising as this may sound you have� this way of irritating the shit out of me." Flash of sharp canines and� muffled 'whoof' of laughter from Spike.�

"You're always telling me how smart I am. So listen up, Spike. I *know* what� you are, and I'm in love with every piece of it. As for the marking bit, it� may come as something of a shock but did you ever consider I can't do that� either?"�

Spike jerked back, his face contorted in confusion. "What?"�

Xander rolled his eyes. "Every time a demon sees me with you they think I'm� just food. Like I'm a walking dinner you picked up at the local supermarket� and I'm sick of it."�

Twin points of blazing sulphur as Spike demanded "Who?"�

"It doesn't..."�

" It *fucking* matters," Spike was tense with rage. "Who?"�

Xander sighed. " Just ones that we've run across when we've been out on your� little search and kill everything on sight patrols. It doesn't matter,� they're already dead."�

"Good." Smug satisfaction expressed in a single word.�

Heads resting on each others shoulders, they were silent, savouring the� closeness, when Xander finally murmurs "I am yours, Spike. Are you mine?� Do..do you love me?"�

The faint quaver in Xander's voice, this sharp scent of uncertainty coming� from the youth goes straight to Spike's core. Makes no effort to hide his� disbelief as he growls "I said you were mine, that I want to mark you. How� can you read all those soddin' books and not know what that means?"�

Curses when Xander responds with a weak smile and somewhat embarrassed shrug� of his shoulders. "Bloody hell! Soddin' Watcher deserves a kick up the arse,� what has he..."�

"Spike."�

The vampire halts his tirade to glare at Xander. "You're going to make me� say it aren't you?"�

Xander's humor returns at the unspoken plea coming from golden eyes. "If it� helps I only need to hear it once," then his gaze drops to the ground "but� if you can't I'll..."�

Once again his chin is firmly grasped and brought up so he can meet Spike's� stare. The vampire's face is a portrait of swirling emotions as he brings� their lips together.�

Passion flares between them and is well on the way to out of control, Xander� groans in frustration when Spike breaks contact to bury his face in the� crook of Xander's neck.�

Shiver of lust and something more at the sensation of razor sharp fangs as� they ghost along his neck.�

"My Viking. You're so alive with energy and life," Spike's voice hoarse with� need. "it drags me under. I want it, want every strand that makes you and� want every strand that is me *in* you. Love is madness. This fucking *thing*� that gnaws from the inside out until there is nothing left but ash, blood� and bone."�

Shaking, Xander's not sure if it is him, Spike or both. He listens to the� words and knows he will never be the same again.�

Spike's lips move away from Xander's neck to rest against the fullness of� his mouth. His final statement a promise Xander knows will never be broken� and one he can never break. "So this madness is my mistress, my master, my� lover. You embody it, make it whole, make it real in this fragile bag of� flesh that I want to slide into an never leave. This is my love Xander� Harris, for you."�

Xander gasps as Spike's lush mouth touches his own, tongue invading every� crevice, wet and agile. Consuming unrivalled need overtakes him - madness.�

Lifted, and his legs automatically wrap around Spike. Powerful grip molds� them together, groan in unison as their desire for each other collides� through wet material. Hard and aching.�

Damp clinging cloth no chance against a vampire who knows what he wants. The� storm has come back, rain pelting down and Xander spares a thought to wonder� if it is sizzling against his overheated skin. A warm cozy cabin mere feet� away but they can't stop.�

Fingers inserted, and they are so insufficient it hurts. Barely dint this� fire that is crawling all over him. Litany of words babbling from Xander's� mouth as he tells Spike what he needs in a tone that is half plea half� demand.�

Almost weeps in relief when Spike enters him, and stops. A moment of sanity� as they try to stem this avalanche out of control. Xander abruptly lets out� a snarl, clenches his hands on slim shoulders and slams his hips down,� driving Spike in to the hilt.�

Spike's legs almost buckle "Gods!!" Buried so deep in warm flesh he has now claimed is almost enough to send him over the edge.�

Wraps one arm around Xander's waist, a hand moves between their bodies and� Spike almost loses it totally at Xander's husky cry as the vampire starts to� milk the mortals leaking cock.�

Nothing gentle between them now as they move, slap of flesh against flesh.� Shielded by Knorr's massive bulk from passing traffic they are wild. Hiss of� delight from Spike when Xander leans in to suckle his lower lip, breaks skin� and they kiss with the copper tang of life and death passing back and forth� between them.�

Xander throws back his head, eyes open but he can't see a thing. Silent� hysterical snigger as he thinks {{So this is what is what they call being� fucked blind}}�

This moment is too intense for him to last, like Spike he fights the� inevitable but cannot resist. Muscles quiver as the orgasm rips through him.� Opens his mouth, screaming as he cums all over Spike's hand and the front of� his shirt.�

Spike is close, so close it is agony. Holds Xander's limp still twitching� body against him while his cock pistons in and out of his lover seeking� release. Can feel it elusively avoid him no matter how tight his balls are.�

Finds the time to gently tuck Xander's head into his shoulder so that the� boy is comfortable. Shudders when Xander's mouth suckles at his neck, blunt� teeth clasping folded skin. Roars in esctasy when Xander rips into his� throat and finally cold seed floods into his mate.�

*****************

Xander laved his tongue on Spike's torn flesh, harsh breaths as he mumbled� "Love you, Spike. So much, so long." Lazily suckles the blood without even� thinking. Never had so much before, surprising how good, how right this� feels. Swallows every drop, with Spike's rumbling purr echoing in his ears.�

Eventually the flow slows to a trickle, realises he is on his feet draped� over Spike's lithe frame like a dishrag. Xander savors the moment before� begging, "Tell me we're in a big room and didn't do what I think we just� did."�

Spike's answering sated laugh earns an "Oh God!" groan from Xander. Who� closes his eyes and mutely obeys Spike's silent commands as he dresses them� both.�

Still purring, the vampire possessively steers his wobbly-kneed mate towards� the front corner of the truck. It was time to move. Propping the exhausted� boy up against the front grill, Spike jauntily trotted back for the plastic� bag.�

On his return, Xander smiled weakly at the sizzling stare. "What? I've got a� zit or something?"�

Finger's lightly tracing the outline of Xander's lips, Spike uttered with a� type of wonder "Blood. My blood, on your mouth, in you."�

Xander slowly ran his tongue over his lips, tasting Spike. Is rewarded with� a growl and a passionate kiss. And hell, Xander discovers he has another� kink that turns him on.�

Could stay here all day, but sunlight and thievery wait for no man. "Time to� go," he states firmly. "Eirick and his boys will be waiting at the� warehouse. I don't want them to miss their tour of Universal."�

Spike replies in a manner which leaves no doubt he doesn't give a shit if� the Rosx demons miss their tour.�

Xander chuckles, legs shaking dangerously as he climbed up into Knorr with� Spike close behind.�

"C'mon luv, lets get this deal done with and go shag."�

A statement which Xander firmly agrees upon, on one condition. After a� rueful glance down at his stained clothes then across to Spike's, "We have� to get changed first."�

Spike lifted a scarred eyebrow in surprise. "You packed?"�

Xander nodded as he let out the brake "Yep. Saved my Hawaiian shirt� especially for you,", almost doubling up with laughter at the vampire's� horrified stare.�

"I may love you, pet. But even *I* don't love you that much."�

"Its the yellow one," Xander teased.�

"Oh GOD!!!"�