“Did I sleep for long?”

“Let’s round it up to thirty-six hours that you’ll never get back.”

“Wow.  And you stayed with me all the time?”

“Of course.”

“Did you find many, many words to newly define boredom?”

“I wasn’t bored.”

Xander missed the interesting edge to that comment as he finished the remains of his omelette and mopped the plate with bread, guzzling that down, as ravenous at the end of his meal as he was before it.  Back to the kitchen and rooting through the fridge and cupboards; Xander made himself several slices of toast and spread honey on them.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

“Certain.”

Spike watched his charge, not seeing a Xander who was bouncing back to full physical and emotional strength with his usual uncanny rapidity, but transfixed by the painful hobble, the winces when the damage caused by a vampire’s ‘comfort’ caught up with him.

“Are the bruises gone?” Xander interrupted his thoughts, and Spike felt the shock of the question before realising Xander was talking about his face.

“Pretty much,” Spike told him flatly after a few seconds intense study.

Xander licked the last of the honey from his fingers, washed his sticky hands, then proceeded to poke and prod at himself, pleased that the minor pains from the fight had gone.

“You want to tell me about what happened in LA?”  Xander poured two mugs of coffee and took them through to the living room; Spike followed, glad of both the consideration and change of subject.

“There were problems, demon of the week, usual bun fight.”

“Nobody thought to call and tell you?”

“They couldn’t.  The offices were taken over by the demon’s cronies and…”

“Angel doesn’t have a cell?  He hasn’t figured out how to use a payphone?”

“When one of us is in the field, all communications are scrambled.  That technology wasn’t something he thought to take with him once his hands were full of bleeding employee.”

“Ah.  Yeah, okay, get that, but surely this once…”

“There’s never a ‘this once’.  We agreed the way things would be run and we stick to them.”  Spike took a sip of coffee and looked away.  More guilt.  “After this…I think we’ll have to reconsider the rules.”

“You get a chance to talk about the job, our job?”

“Yes,” Spike sighed.

“Is that bad?”

Spike put down his mug and turned to face Xander.

“It’s more dangerous than we thought.”

“Isn’t it always?  Underestimation: vital tool of the evil-fighting trade.”

“Dangerous to you,” Spike continued grimly.

Beat.

“Oh.”

“Because no-one is entirely sure whether Dead Guy was completely human.”

“Oh.”

“I came back determined to tell you the truth and put a stop to this.”

“But you still need a medium.”

“Yes.”

“Then I have to…”

“Don’t you dare!”  Spike sprang up and paced.  “When Angel said what he did I was so fucking furious I decked him.”

“Said what?”

“He brushed me off, all my concerns for you, he said that you were always willing to put others before yourself and that you’d carry on.”

“You hit him for that?”

“He didn’t care.”

“Maybe…”

“And don’t make excuses for him!”

“Maybe he can’t afford to care.  Not that I think he does, but…”

“I want you to be left out of this.  We can find someone else to contact Dead Guy, you get to go home and be safe…”

“Possibly taking the uber-nasty with me so it can play with my friends.  Y’know I can still hear those bones breaking in Doug’s arm?  It haunts me.  If the uber-nasty is anything to do with this, I want to be on hand to witness it getting its incorporeal ass kicked and then some.”

“This is typical of that smug git!  He was right about you.”

“You knew that I’d keep with this, don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“I want you safe.”

“Why?  ‘Cause of what a wreck I was when you got back here?  Don’t let guilt get in the way of sense, Spike.  I know the score, it makes sense for me to carry on with this.”

“Guilt,” Spike said in a whisper, eyes closing as he fell still.

“You want to talk?” Xander asked him softly.  “I don’t mean about LA.”

“No.”

“But you’ve been…odd ever since we got up.”

“Maybe you’re right, about the guilt over leaving you, the shock of what I came back to.  Let me come to terms and there’ll be no more odd, all right?”

“You can see I’m okay.  Not a miracle cure – God knows I don’t want to sleep alone for the foreseeable future – but right now…  Let’s both be okay?”  Xander patted the seat beside him and Spike, after the requisite mental deliberations, sat down, sitting stiffly and picking at the last few scraps of polish on his nails.  “You wear that just to scratch it off?” Xander asked with a smile.

“Have you…  Have you forgotten?  Everything that’s happened this week?”

“No.”

“You seem…”  Spike shrugged.

“Like I’m coping too well?  Try telling me you’re leaving me here alone for an hour, that’ll get you the expected freak out.”

“That isn’t what I want.”

“I know.”  Xander let himself tilt sideways until he was leaning against Spike, and he used the contact to give the vampire several playful nudges.  Eventually Spike let himself be drawn, and he turned his head to meet Xander’s eye.  “I don’t want you feeling bad,” Xander told him sincerely, “none of this is your fault.”

Spike literally sprang away from Xander, leaving him toppling onto the now empty seat.

“Not my fault?  After what I did?”

Xander propped himself up on one elbow and watched Spike pace.

“You had to leave and…”

“This isn’t about the leaving, you bloody idiot!”

“Oh, gee, thanks, that makes it worth being nice guy.”

“No, I—  I don’t mean that.  I…I…”

“Yeah, typically, you, you.  Shall I let you in on a shocking secret?  Not everything is about you, Spike.”

“Right.  That’s right.  I rape you and…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.”  Now Xander was the one scrabbling, as opposed to springing, to his feet.  “You did what?  Where did that come from?”

“I raped you, didn’t I?”

“No!  No, you didn’t, no, no, don’t think that.”

“So much for all the ‘I’ve changed, I’ve got a soul now, I don’t do that’.  I don’t fucking do that!”

“You don’t, you didn’t.”

“But I did.  After all I went through to get this soul and I’m no better…”

“Don’t blame yourself.  This is my fault.  I don’t want you to feel bad, I’m sorry you feel bad.  If I hadn’t demanded you help me…”

“The demon…the demon acts and the soul regrets.”

“You did what I was asking you to do, I wasn’t expecting the bite but I even understand that, and good, and it’s okay, it’s really okay.”

“Not okay.  Not.  Okay.  The soul…regrets.”

“You.  Is that what you’re saying?  You regret?”

“Hurting you,” Spike confessed, voice shaking painfully hard.  “Yes.”

“But…  I asked you to help.”

“Help, yes.  Were you asking for what I did?”

“Yes.”

“Of course you weren’t.”

“Actually…”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I was supposed to say no, there should have been another way to comfort you.”

“The state I was in?  Another way might have taken hours to work.”

“You asked for help and I took advantage of you, abused you.”

“I did know what I was asking for.”

“It couldn’t have been that.”

“Yes, I knew, and…after what you told me at the motel I didn’t think it would be a problem for you.”  Spike stared at Xander in horrified disbelief for several seconds before managing a shake of the head.  “You told me you wanted to fuck me senseless, Spike.  I was already halfway senseless, but you got the rest.”

“I never wanted—  I hurt you.  You think I wanted to hurt you?”

“No, I don’t, and I didn’t want to be hurt, but…  You have to try to understand what it had been like for me during your absence – and this isn’t about making you feel bad for leaving me, so forget that side of it, I’m not going there.  Spike, I…needed you.  As close as possible.”

“And you thought…  I wouldn’t have killed you, how could you think that?”

Xander’s hand unconsciously wavered close to the healing scar on his neck.

“Just for a moment I wasn’t sure it was you doing it.  I wasn’t even sure it was really you, that I wasn’t hallucinating.  Again.  Or if it was you, maybe the entity had gotten into you.”

“How could it do that?”

“I don’t know.  But I wasn’t in great shape, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“No, course you weren’t, sorry.  Sorry.”

“That…thing, it’s incredibly cruel.  Having you kill me would have been a perfect example of exactly how cruel.”

“Why that in particular?”

“’Cause I’ve stopped trying to trust you.”  Spike’s heart sank at that admission.  But Xander hadn’t finished.  “I don’t have to try anymore.  I just do.  I trust you.  The care you took to find this place, this degree of solitude for me, the chapel in town, someone there I knew ‘cause of Doug.  Whether it’s just your job, or – or…friendship – I’d like to think friendship, now – you’re doing your best for me and your best is awesome.”

Spike’s head dropped forward, masking the emotions on his face, but they were easy enough for Xander to guess: regret; frustration; anger, and at both of them, surely.

“Can we leave this?  For now?  I really want to go back to the chapel tonight and I’d rather not walk out of here in the middle of this particular conversation.”

“We.”

“Yes, we walk out of here.”

Nothing more from Spike, and Xander went for a shower, remembering the last one he’d had and feeling quite pleased with himself over how he’d coped with Spike’s assistance.  Not that there’d been much of an option: take the help graciously or fall down and break into pieces, but it was exactly what Douglas had taught him: accepting help without pride, finally seeing how necessary it was, what good advice, and…  Damn, he missed his friends.

Singing to himself, songs that took him a little closer to home, he washed thoroughly, taking special care around the sorer bits and dreading the food in his system getting that far.  Trying to make it better only seemed to make it worse and Xander was grimacing with every step by the time he went back to the bedroom.

Spike was stretched out on the bed, watching him through slitted eyelids, wearing that unimpressed expression of his.  Or was that well-suppressed curiosity?  Xander would have to put in some more work on Spike’s unspoken vocabulary.

He looked in the mirror and studied his neck, delicately touching pruned fingertips to the oversensitive scar.

“Incredible.  Anyone would think that was at least a week old.”

“There are healing qualities in vampire saliva; helps keep the meal fresh if it’s not an instant kill.”

“Can we bottle it?  Vampire spit, with factor epidermal Ziploc.  We’d be rich.”

Spike found himself relaxing, not realising he’d tensed in expectation of a bad reaction to that scrap of information with its implications about vampires playing with their food, about to explain a little more when Xander dropped the fresh socks he’d fished out of a drawer and ow, ow, owing as he bent down to pick them up; he missed what he wouldn’t have had any trouble reading as sorrow on Spike’s face.

“I can help you.”

“Yeah?  What then?  Waiting for me to hand you an engraved invitation?” Xander joked, charily straightening up and waiting for Spike to retrieve the socks for him.

Before he knew what was happening, Xander’s towel was tossed aside and he was on the bed, elbows and knees, and Spike was running cool hands over hot buttocks, parting them gently but firmly to allow access for his tongue.  The thrashing and gabbled protests stuttered to a halt as the slick, wet digit wriggled its soothing way to damaged areas and the inflammation immediately began to subside.  Xander’s hands fisted in the covers and he probably would have laughed at the absurdity of having a vampire’s tongue probing his nether regions if he didn’t have a vampire’s tongue probing his nether regions.  The final, ineffectual argument morphed into a contented groan as, amazingly, he felt himself begin to heal, and that groan was all it took for Spike’s touch to change: his right hand clutching tighter where it lay, squeezing and massaging the firm cheek; his left hand slid over Xander’s hip, up and down his outer thigh a few times before trailing to inner, back of his fingers brushing Xander’s balls and making him jump, although not jump away.

So preoccupied was Xander with that strange, balming sensation that he hadn’t noticed he was getting hard, and if he had noticed, he would have acknowledged that hard didn’t necessarily mean horny.  But that would only have been until Spike’s hand found and encased his cock.

“Nice.  That’s nice.  Better,” was murmured against his body, making him squirm.  Feeling there, emotion in the tone, and the mild words were as provocative as any Xander had ever heard in relation to himself.

Mentally groping around for some higher brain functions and a few pertinent words proved fruitless; all that occurred was an instinctive withdrawal from the channel Spike had created, pushing him further onto the penetrating tongue, and an equally instinctive jerk forward that thrust him back into Spike’s fist.  Hard didn’t necessarily mean horny, but fuck, this was horny.

And wrong.

And the more Xander knew this should stop and wanted to stop the less he wanted to stop and this was wrong and already regrettable and…

Oh, fuck…

Another swift yet casual move, Spike manhandling Xander as if he weighed nothing, and the man was tipped onto his back, Spike moving like liquid to settle between his thighs and unhesitatingly wrap his mouth around Xander’s erection.  Physical pleasure, such a rare commodity in Xander’s life, and it instigated a stream of mumbled nonsense as lips slid wetly over his shaft, a precise and clever tongue toyed with the head.

Oh, fuck.  Oh, fuck.  Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!  If he stops I’ll kill him.

Nimble fingers returned to his balls and there was a deal of teasing and rolling to accompany the sucking and licking, a little tugging when it seemed Xander might come too soon – Spike’s decision, not Xander’s, as Xander’s too soon couldn’t be too soon enough.  It had been a long time between blowjobs and Xander trembled with the effort of stopping himself thrusting into Spike’s throat; he managed to resist that urge despite the unhelpful encouragement from the vampire, but he couldn’t help forcing his fingers into the solid gel that was reputedly Spike’s hair and clenching.  A satisfied chuckle from Spike vibrated around his most sensitive parts and Xander came, yelling with it.  No-one had ever taken him deep enough to constrict their throat around him as they swallowed his come and this was Spike producing that mind-blowing sensation, Spike swallowing his come, and that was extraordinary but simply getting off was more than enough and Spike swallowed and Xander writhed and felt and came and yelled.

And collapsed.

Luckily his body was sprawled on a bed and didn’t have far to go, but his mind and spirits…

“Stop thinking,” Spike whispered as he nuzzled a thigh.

“Nnnh.”

Spike made his way up the bed to lie beside Xander, and it was fortunate that he chose Xander’s blind side because, unlike Spike himself, the self-satisfied expression would not have gone down well.  He stroked a flat hand over the heaving chest and quivering stomach, trying to find his way back to that short-lived feeling of happiness when, two days ago, in his naively hopeful and possibly unhinged mind, Xander had been lover rather than victim.

“Stop thinking,” he repeated.

“Why?” Xander asked, tensing beneath Spike’s touch.  “Why this?”

Spike carried out a split-second editing of the many truths.

“Because you needed it.”

“No.”  Xander cleared his throat.  “That wasn’t need.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“That was using you.”

“Gift freely given.  How’s your bum, any better?”

“It was wrong.”

“I know.”

“You knew but you still…”

“Hang on, I meant that I know you thought it was wrong.  How did it go?  ‘Oh, fuck.  Wrong, wrong, wrong.  If he stops I’ll kill him.’”

“That was aloud?” Xander asked apprehensively, wondering how much else had been.

“It wasn’t wrong.”

“It was, and…”

“You were noisy,” Spike grinned.  “See?  I knew you should be noisy.”

Xander shifted to make some space between them, turning and looking hard at Spike.

“Spike.  What was ‘better’ about?”

“Better?” Spike repeated innocently.

“Don’t try that face, you know and I know you know.”

“So, how is your bum?”  Xander’s accusing gaze flicked down Spike’s body to where the prominent lump stretching the jeans at his groin bore testament to how one-sided this encounter had been.  So far?  The possibility of Spike thinking ‘so far’ bothered Xander in uncountable ways.  Spike saw the glance and read Xander’s mind.  “I’m not asking because I want in, I’m asking because I want to stop you hurting so much.”

“Better?” Xander pressed, reverting to a place he felt a little safer.  “Why ‘better’?”

Spike sighed and fell onto his back.

“The other day.  Before I realised how badly I was fucking up.  I hated that, that you never…  Sodding hell, Xander, figure it out.  Sometimes I’m more vain than demonic.”

Xander…figured.

“Wait, you mean…  This was about me not being turned on when you fucked me?”  Spike flinched at the disgust in Xander’s voice, unable to tell whether it was about then or now.  “The state I was in and you expected me…  I don’t believe you.”

“Not expected, wanted.  I didn’t understand what was happening, and you were begging for it, and I thought maybe there was more than the uber-nasty going on.”

“Because I always use the excuse of having my mind destroyed to get laid, I can see how you made that mistake.”

“I didn’t understand at the time, all right?  And now I do I want to make things up to you.”

“By—  I can’t believe I let you do this.”

“You enjoyed it,” Spike stubbornly insisted.

“You let me use you!  Now you’ll never trust me again when I genuinely need you, you’ll think—  Fuck knows what you’ll think.”

“The needing is something I do understand.  If you need me, I’ll think you need me, nothing more.”

“I used you.”

Sick with himself at his own weakness, Xander shook his head in dismay, took a look at the clock on the cabinet and immediately started off of the bed, grabbing clothes and hiding in the bathroom to get changed.  Moving far more easily, Spike noticed, so that had been worthwhile.  But the rest…  He sighed, savoured the lingering flavour of Xander, and sighed again.

“So much for afterglow.”

…

It was a relief to get to the chapel.  The car ride had been a time of stony silence and tangible resentment, both men feeling that every inch of progress they’d made in respect of the other had been lost.  There was, however, an unspoken agreement not to make this rift public, and when they were greeted by Peter and Miriam it was as if nothing had gone wrong in their lives, no need to dwell on uber-nasties, or any brand of madness, and especially not the repercussions of.

They met some representatives of another chapel in the group, most of whom Xander knew by name and reputation, most of whom knew Xander in the same personal/impersonal way.  It was Jo, the matriarch of the group, that sat alongside Spike when, much as before, Peter invited Xander to join in the meeting.  They watched Xander make his contacts and pass on messages; to Spike he seemed sharper, faster, and there was an amount of consideration about what effect the medium’s recent experiences may have had on him and his abilities.

Jo was as delighted by Xander’s precise readings and charismatic presentation as the remainder of the audience, and at one point she turned to Spike.

“You must be very proud of your partner.”  She lowered her voice and peaked around before continuing.  “Your…significant other?”

“What makes you think he’s that?”

“Because of the way you watch him.”

“Everyone’s watching him.”

“Not like you.”

“I watch him because I’m trying to keep him safe.”

“Then maybe I should rephrase that.  The way you look at him.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Just good friends?” she suggested.

Spike thought about it, and when he answered, it was with regret.

“No.  Not even that.”

Jo gave him an apologetic, perhaps sympathetic, smile and turned back to watch Xander in action, leaving Spike wondering about how he and Xander could stay together after everything that had occurred.  In a purely business sense, naturally.  He didn’t like any of his conclusions and very firmly put them from his mind, making the most of the present and catching up with Xander’s latest contact.

…

“They’ve asked me to visit them,” Xander finally broke the silence when they arrived back at the cabin.  “Their chapel in Woodbury.  I said I would.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“Very.”  Xander dithered on the stoop and took a deep breath before turning to Spike.  “I know this place was perfect, but the associations…”

“We’ll leave at dusk tomorrow,” Spike told him without hesitation, irritated with himself for not guessing the kind of feelings the cabin would now evoke in Xander.  “That’ll give me time to find somewhere as peaceful for you.”

“Another motel will do, I don’t need…”

“Just leave that to me.”  Xander nodded.  “I should have thought, I should already have started to make arrangements.”

“The timing’s good,” Xander insisted.  “Gave me a chance to see Peter and Miriam again before we leave.”

“Xander…  I don’t want us to fight.  I know I do things without thinking them through properly, but…this time…it was with the best of intentions.”

Spike watched the man’s tense body language relax slightly and felt the first trickle of relief.

“When I’m calm I can see that clearly, I just haven’t been calm since you left.  Until tonight.  And I know we have to talk but, you’re right, we don’t have to fight.”

With a resolved nod Spike herded Xander inside, heading straight for the road atlas with the leaflet from the Stokes’ tucked inside, checking out the location of Woodbury and finding where they were headed next.

“You want food or blood or both?” Xander called from the kitchen.

“Yes,” Spike called back distractedly as he prodded at the keypad of his cell phone.

Xander chatted to Jesse and Saul as he cooked, looking to the doorway when they quietened and giving Spike the warm smile that unfailingly made the vampire want to look around to discover who was behind him that Xander was so delighted to see.

“Find somewhere?”

“Similar set up to this, about eight miles from the chapel, that do?”

“Sounds fine.”

“I asked about a couple of other places on the leaflet in case you carry on with the spiritualist crawl.”

“It’s only Woodbury,” Xander chuckled as he presented Spike with one of the vampire’s favourite fry-ups, Spike being fully aware of the unsubtle peace offering and belatedly realising that his eagerness to make the move might have appeared an equally unsubtle gesture to Xander.

“Wasn’t sure we could get back to this,” Spike admitted halfway through a very amiable dinner, waving his knife between them.

“Me neither,” Xander agreed after a second, and not prepared to pretend that it didn’t matter.  “I’m glad we could.”

“Mind you, we haven’t had that talk yet.”

Xander smiled at Spike’s deliberately gloom-laden delivery, and jabbed him in the shin with his sneaker-shod toe until Spike reassuringly glared.

“Tell me about tonight’s meeting,” Xander prompted.

“You were very good.”

“You mean the novelty hasn’t worn off yet?”

“No, I mean you were very good.”

“You think?  Good, or…gooder?”

“Goodest.  So far.”  Xander beamed.  “No meditation, no preparation, and it seemed…”

“It seemed?” Xander pressed, smile fading fast, when Spike failed to continue.

Spike shrugged.

“Easy?”

Xander drew breath to speak but stalled, thinking over what Spike had said as he finished his meal.

“That was about the best I’ve been,” Xander admitted quietly.  “You think the uber-nasty did something to me, don’t you?”

“What if you being sharper is like…a side effect?”

“Then I forgive it everything, providing you never leave my side for the remainder of my life,” Xander said dourly before snapping.  “Don’t tell me it’s doing me any favours.”

“Oi!  I didn’t say – didn’t even imply – you should be grateful.”

“Because, whatever the side effects, I’m not grateful, I never will be, I just want the damn thing to stay away from me and the people I love.  Better still, I want the good old days when Giles and Willow would figure it all out and Buffy would destroy the fucking thing.”

“We may get to that yet.”

“Was Buffy in LA when you were there?”

“No.”

“I thought you said I’d see her, maybe Dawn, if I came with you.”

“You might have, I didn’t know one way or the other.”

“You’re lucky you get to see them at all.  I wish I didn’t feel so…odd…about them and this.  Me.  I told you I’d think about it, and I did, and I really want to see them.  But…me.”

“I don’t see them, any of them, much.  Buffy’s only in LA if she needs to be, some years that’s not at all.  Dawn visits for the occasional week here and there.”

“How about Willow?  Or Giles?  Andrew?  I’m surprised at Andrew ‘cause he had such a crush on you.”

“Silly little sod.”  The expected dismissal, but Xander heard the smile in Spike’s voice.  A sad smile.  “Remember I was telling you about losing the people in LA?”  Xander nodded.  “It wasn’t long after that that Dru was dusted and somehow…  It took a long time to figure out what the ache was, that it wasn’t only for her.”  Spike swallowed hard, and quietly admitted: “I missed my…friends, they were friends.  And I missed you all, the familiarity, however we were getting along.”  Spike paused and Xander waited patiently.  “They rarely visit, they have…lives.  I’ve wondered if, somewhere along the way, I’ve lost the ability to move on.  I haven’t been able to replace the living that gave me life and…”  The shutters suddenly slammed into place and Spike flicked Xander a forced smile.  “Don’t need all this, do you?”

“You can always talk to me, whatever you want.”

“How did we get here?  Uber-nasty to self-pity in one giant bound.”

“Talk to me.”

“No.  Your turn.  Ready to tell me what happened from the moment I left?”

Xander’s face paled.

“I think I’m gonna abstain from abstention for this.  Beer?”

Spike nodded; they each took several bottles from the fridge and moved the conversation to the living room.  Xander sat at the left end of the sofa, perched on the edge of the seat, turning and turning the bottle that remained in his hands.  Spike sat across from him in an armchair, and wondered if he should be on the sofa too, or would that be crowding rather than support?  He gave an uncomfortable wave in the sofa’s direction.

“You want me…”

“No.  I have to deal with this.  I can do it, I can do anything.  Other than all the stuff I can’t do, but who’s counting?”  Xander sipped his beer.  “It started…  Really, the minute you left, with the bites as I watched you drive away.  I never figured out what the bugs were.”  Xander looked questioningly at Spike, who merely shook his head, not wanting to discuss the non-existence of those persistent insects.  “I didn’t realise it straight away but I got bitten badly; I came in and used the cream but I couldn’t stop scratching and the itching seemed to be everywhere; it destroyed my concentration, weakened any defences I have, and…  I was sitting at the table, trying to write a report, trying not to scratch despite going crazy with the itching…  It’s hazy, even from there.  There was a presence, I didn’t think it was the entity at first.  It came and went a few times, blocking the connection between myself and Saul, then the noise started – that rumbling – and…”  Xander stopped to think, already beginning to tremble with the stress of reliving the initial moments of his hellish few days.  “What else is there to say?  It hounded me, came and went and came back again, I tried to fight it, occasionally I could, more often I couldn’t.  I was scared of what it might make me do, so, in one of my more rational moments, I made myself a lock-up and hoped you’d be back before I died in there.  I don’t know the time scale for any of this.”  Xander drained his bottle, reached for the next.  “All I remember clearly is my…disgust.  Horror.  Fear.  My head hurting, really hurting.  I know that, early on, I picked up the phone but my hands were so swollen and painful from the bites I couldn’t hold on to it to use it.”

“When you had those problems at Chrissie’s did your head hurt then?”

“I…”  Xander frowned.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I think it did.”

“Then maybe that wasn’t you getting anything wrong, it was the uber-nasty…”  Spike shrugged, “testing you, playing with you, whatever.  But it wasn’t you.”

“I guess that could make sense.  And…and…I do feel better for knowing that, and I entirely don’t.  At least if it was the nasty at Chrissie’s it didn’t…”  Xander scraped his fingers through his hair several times.  “This time it…  Things come back to me, thoughts it put in my mind, but with you around they don’t stay.”

“Because I’m a distraction?  Or is it a knock on from the quiet?”

“I don’t know.  Almost as if…with you around my brain is Teflon-coated,” Xander gave a brave attempt at a smile, turned and turned the latest bottle.  “When you left it was…  I got used to the peace you allow me very fast, and with the irritation, the – the presence…  I’d forgotten how to deal with the constant voices.”  Another drained bottle.  “When you came back I was confused, I didn’t know it was you, and then I did, and although I knew, I couldn't seem to believe, really believe, ‘cause I needed you so badly.”  The empty bottle dropped to the floor as Xander’s composure wavered; he leaned forward, resting his face in his hands and mumbling.  “Not using you, Spike, needing you, sorry, sorry for that, sorry for needing you, I…  I’m not using you, trying not to.  Sorry.”

“I understand about the needing, I don’t want you to be sorry.”

Xander’s head came up, fixed Spike, eye-to-eye.

“You can’t begin to imagine – I wouldn’t want you to – what it felt like to have that thing all over me, inside and out, like I was cocooned in evil and – and…infested and—  I don’t have the words.  Whereas you…”  Xander closed his eye and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as a better memory took the upset from his face.  “You made me feel clean again.”

“I did what?” Spike asked breathlessly.

“You saw the nasty off, you brought me back to…me, you made me feel clean.  Inside.”

“But I…  You cried so much, I thought that was me, what I’d done.”

“The crying was as much about the release of tension as the laughing was at Chrissie’s.  It was about the relief of you being here.”

Spike rose swiftly, seemed to be going back to the kitchen, but made an abrupt turn and came directly to Xander.

“This is you—  I don’t know what you’re doing.   But you shouldn’t be protecting me from myself.”

Xander took his time looking up to see Spike’s unaccountably hostile face.

“You think you broke me, Spike?  That’s what the crying was about?  You fucked me and broke me?”

“I don’t know, and I have to.”

“Don’t be so damned arrogant.  Remember me?  Xander Harris?  I don’t break, not for you, not even for the uber-nasty.  Big reactions sometimes, but I don’t break.”

“After…what I did…”

Once again Spike turned away, unable to put into words the apologies he felt necessary, the assurances he wanted to give, the promise that he’d never, never hurt Xander again.  One fuck and he was ensnared, committed, there for Xander.  Needed – ‘cause yes, he felt the need – rather than used, and sometimes a little genuine need was all the encouragement necessary, and…in short…  I’m totally bloody fucking screwed.

“Why do you feel so bad about doing what I asked you to do? Why do you feel so bad?  Did…did you enjoy it that much?”

“Xander…”

“Did you?”

“Don’t ask a question you don’t want the answer to.”

“That’s a yes then.”

“Yes!  All right?  Yes!”

“Because of my pain?”

“Because I had you.  I was fooling myself that you really wanted me, and I had your body beneath me and…and you were holding me – clinging to me – as if you wanted me and you were wrapped tightly around my prick and…and…  It was fucking glorious.”

“It’s not about the pain?”

“No.  I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I gave you what you were demanding.  Or that’s what I thought.  Now…now I don’t know, and nothing you say…”

“You’re being way too hard on yourself.”

“I’m…!  Xander, I raped you!”

“No, you didn’t,” Xander told him yet again, standing and edging close, speaking slowly and deliberately, hoping the words would sink through that solid vampire skull this time.  “You didn’t.”

“I think I would know…”

“Actually, I think I would know if you did.”

“You were distraught afterwards.”

“Not because of you.  ‘Cause of what that fucking entity had put me through, and even now…  Even now if I think about it…”  Xander held out his hands to show the increased tremor.  Spike automatically, protectively took them.  “You saved me.  Spike, you saved me.”  Spike tried to pull away but Xander held on tightly, tugging the vampire back to face him.  “You saved me.”

“I hurt you.  I was out of control.”

“If you were out of control you would have carried on hurting me.  You didn’t, though, did you?”

“I wanted to fuck you again.  Not because you needed me, just…for me.”

“But you didn’t.”

“It’s not that simple!”

“Yes, it is.  It can be.”  Xander drew Spike near and very deliberately offered the scarred area of his neck.  “That’s yours.”

“I know,” Spike said coldly.

“Like it?”

“Yes.”

“Do it again.”

There was no stopping Spike this time: he was on the far side of the room before Xander registered movement.  Xander looked at him and smiled kindly.

“You’re a good man.”

“I raped you.”

“No.  If you did…I’d hate you.  I’d find a way to kill you, and I’d do it with a clear conscience because…”  Xander chuckled to himself.  “Goes without saying.”

“Let’s say it anyway, shall we?  I’m a demon, I can’t be trusted to…”

“Redundant argument,” Xander shouted over the top of Spike’s words.  That burst of noise and then silence as they studied one another.  “The apology is mine,” Xander eventually continued.  “You’re the one who’s come out of this in pain.  And I’m sorry for that.”

“Sorry enough to—”  Spike swallowed the last of his quiet words, turning away and back and away before briskly leaving the room.

The last thing he wanted was for Xander to follow so, predictably, Xander did.

“Sorry enough to what?”

“I shut up for a reason, you should respect that.”

“Sorry enough to…”

“Xander!”

“Sorry enough to what?”

Spike growled in frustration, pacing the length of the hall.  Xander waited patiently, and when Spike eventually let himself come face-to-face with the young man’s open concern it was impossible for him to keep quiet.

“I thought…  On the way back I kept thinking…  We might have a chance,” Spike admitted, ignoring Xander’s surprise and pressing on.  “I was going to show you…  Going to prove to you how good I can be if I…  How…gentle.  Ridiculous, I know.”

“Not ridiculous.  But I’ve told you why not.”

“Isn’t it too late for that argument?  You didn’t want to get closer but we’ve been closer, it’s done, we’ve been there.”  Spike’s voice dropped to a whisper.  “I’ve been there.  Inside you.  I want that again.”

Xander was already shaking his head.

“Can’t happen.”

Spike stepped back as his anger burst back to the surface.

“Because, despite what you said: demon here, you hate me for fucking you, you can’t trust me.”

“Because I don’t, and because I do,” Xander protested.  “And stop bringing up the demon thing, will you?  You realise that you’re the one with the prejudice here?  Only one of us has a problem with you being a demon and it isn’t me.”

“I don’t have a problem being a demon.”

“Then forget the old Xander, see the new, and stop accusing me of despising you for being exactly what I need you to be.”

“Fair enough.  How about I blame you rather than me?  Is that way any better?  You gave me no choice but to fuck you.”

“I accept that, and I’ve apologised for…”

“You did that, made me hurt you, and what chance do I have with you now?”

“A greater chance than if that fucker had driven me to suicide.”

Spike hesitated.

“You’re saying there is a chance?”

“No.  And honestly?  Still Spike and Xander here, I can’t understand why you’d want one.”

Spike grabbed Xander and shoved him up against the wall, holding him there with his body, glaring at him with plenty of annoyance and even more desire.

“Want.  Me.”

“Spike…”  Not so much as a token struggle; Xander’s hands crept up to caress the vampire’s tense face.  “You think it’s easy to say no?  You think I don’t want to be close to someone?  You were right, what you said about my life, about how empty it is.  But I’m used to it being that way, and I can’t see how I would even start to cope with having yo…someone for a while and then going back to that emptiness.  You said this…I don’t know what to call what’s going on between us, but you said it was about proximity.  This is you taking a shot because I’m convenient…”

“No.”

“Listen to me.  I can’t be your Mr Convenience, not this way.  I can’t afford to have anyone – for however short a time, whatever the circumstances – and then lose them.  That, of all things…  That…  Might be what finally breaks me.”

No doubting the honesty in those words: Spike could hear it, see it, feel it in Xander’s gentle touch.  The vampire’s head despondently sank until his brow rested on Xander’s shoulder; Xander pressed his lips to the cool temple and sighed miserably at Spike’s soft moan.

“I enjoyed it, Xander, every second of it.  Having you beg for me.  Being inside you, prick and fangs.”

“I think it’s time for Spike to stop being honest,” Xander told the vampire, quiet humour in his voice.

“But it wasn’t worth it.  The soul regrets.”

“I’m sorry to say this, but I think you’ve been infected with a bad case of humanity.  It’s how we are, doing stupid stuff and then kicking ourselves for not knowing better.”

“I should be above that.”

“Why you specifically?  We all should be above that.  But we have to be realistic.”  Xander hands continually stroked over Spike’s back, trying to coax him out of his mood.  “I want you to stop blaming yourself and…can’t you look at it as getting something you wanted?”

“I.  Didn’t.  Want.  That,” Spike growled, eyes glinting gold as his head rose.

“’Kay, probably needs rephrasing.  After the motel, memo to…”  Another growl and Xander attempted a verbal sidestep.  “You said you enjoyed it?  Aaaaand you used that argument on me earlier, and it really sucks, doesn’t it?  Will you stop with the grr!  Calm place, back to the calm place, calm place was nice.”  Spike tried to jerk away, but once again Xander refused to let him go.  “Stay.  Please.  Stay.”

Golden eyes returned to blue, searching Xander’s face.

“You going to let me go?”

“Not yet.”

“When what I want is…”

Spike yanked Xander to him, kissing him at last, hard and passionately and…  Being astounded when there was no resistance, no tussle for freedom.  Reciprocation, in fact.  The return of the hands, stroking.  The kiss lost its desperate edge and mouths met gently, explored lightly, although it wasn’t long before Xander felt he had no choice but to bring it to a halt, however reluctantly.

“You can’t have this,” he murmured, before briefly kissing Spike again.  “I can’t have this.”  Meaning it.  “Please understand why.”

Experiencing the depth of emotion with which Xander imbued every kiss, Spike did understand.  It didn’t help that it only made him want Xander more.  He released his hold and stepped back.

“I’m done here,” he said firmly, determined to sound like he meant it in a bid to restore a little of Xander’s faith in him.

Xander nodded his acceptance, staring at Spike’s mouth and wanting to explore further.  But…his own rules.

“That wasn’t fighting, was it?  Some of the discussion was a little heated, but…”

“We don’t fight.”

“We don’t.  We talk and we…heal.”  An anxious look darted from Xander to Spike.  “We do, don’t we?”

“Healing,” Spike promised, taking Xander’s hand and placing it on his chest, over the un-beating heart.  “Feel.”

Xander drifted closer, too close, retrieved his hand, drifted away.

“Every time I want to kiss you I’m going to remind myself that your tongue has been in my ass.”

“It’s a very nice arse.”

“But not an appropriate place for a vampire’s tongue.”

“Depends who the vampire is.”

“Oh.  Oh, that did it, completely turned off now.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s good, you try it.”  Spike did, and his face crumpled in disapproval.  “We’re both up to speed?” Xander confirmed.  “Neither of us ra…took advantage, abused, used, or generally exploited the other; there was, however, plenty of needing and giving, and ultimately, we’re two great guys who are going to save the world, and – and…  Really regret never sharing a hot tub if we die prematurely.”

“Are we sleeping together tonight?”

“We are and, warning you now, I will be performing the limpet manoeuvre.”

“That’s…good.”

“You’re not…  You’re not going back to living in hope, are you?”

“I think you can safely say I’ve given up hope, Pet…al.”

Xander grinned at that, nodded gratefully at the denial, and wandered off to clean up before bed.

Spike studied his retreating back and felt the spark inside his chest burst into a flame.  He hadn’t lied: as far as he was concerned the conquest of Xander Harris was no longer a hope.

It was a certainty.

Manifestation 13       Manifestation Index       Manifestation Notes

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