The next day was spent in the countryside that bordered the Cedar Groves estate, Spike finally getting to drive the Jag and proving to be as scary as everyone had predicted.  Six hours and Spike was starting to feel a little like the bug population of the state was crawling over his skin.

“The glass is good,” Xander said thoughtfully.  “Maybe it’s psychosomatic.  Vampires and daylight and all that stuff.”

“Don’t like it,” Spike pouted, wriggling in his seat.

“Crawl into the back and get under the tarp.  I’ll take us home.”

“Should’ve practised in the Merc,” Spike said as he slid between the seats.

Xander snorted and clambered inelegantly behind the wheel.

“Yeah, like I’m going to let you drive my car.”

“I was thinking more of the capacity of the back seat.  Apparently you can’t fuck in a coupe, but the Merc…”

“Okay, okay, got the picture.  Vivid picture, great detail, sharp focus, full colour, muzak soundtrack.”

“Think there’s enough headroom for me to ride you?”

“Spike!  I want to get home in one piece.”

“What?” the vampire asked too innocently to be believed.

“Let me keep my mind on the road,” Xander replied too patiently to be believed.

Spike snickered and buried himself away from the perceived threats of sunbeams and an increasingly fractious horny boyfriend.  Xander heard the snicker and scowled momentarily before deciding to punish the vampire with the best torture he had to hand.  Switching on the radio, he hiked up the volume and tuned in to some country and western.

…

“Get that,” Xander told Spike as he prised off the vampire and reached for the clothes he’d just had unceremoniously liberated from his body.

“Eh?”

“Door.  You didn’t hear the door?  Knock, knock, who’s there…”

“Who the hell is it?”

“That’s the idea of answering the door.  You get to find out.”

Grumbling, Spike left Xander on the sofa, headed for the hallway.  The front entrance of the house was shaded by a large porch and Spike didn’t have to think twice before he threw open the door.  He frowned at the almost familiar face that positively beamed at him.

“Hi, Spike.”

“Do I know you?”

“It’s Patrick, I work with Alex.  We did meet before but you were…”  Spike waited to see how this man would deal with that.  “You weren’t too well.”  Cop out.  “I’m glad to see you’re so much better.”

“Yeah, right.”

The now fully dressed Xander came into the hall behind Spike.

“Hey, Pat,” he greeted his boss joyfully, “come in, come in.  Spike, you don’t leave guests on the doorstep.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

Spike stood aside to let Patrick, who works with Alex, into his home, following him with suspicious eyes.  This man had been Xander’s friend when he was Spike-less.  This man didn’t shake Xander’s hand like a colleague, he took his arm and gave it a too-familiar squeeze.  This man was not much older than his Xander…  That colouring, bet they get taken for brothers and Xander wouldn’t want to fuck his brother.  …was attractive, smelt nice, regarded Xander with great affection.  Great affection that was obviously reciprocated.  Okay, want to kill him.  Xander won’t approve.  I’ll deal.

“Alex said you wanted this.”

Patrick was offering him a book on modern architecture; Spike rapidly sifted through William’s memories and the reference clicked into place.  This man was thoughtful.  He bore gifts.  Cope with Xander later, kill this one now.

“Cheers.”

Spike took the book and began to flick through it as they wandered toward the kitchen in slow pursuit of Xander.

“Alex didn’t mention that you were English.”

“Umm, yeah.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Got the map in your head?  Down from Scotland, right of Wales.”

Patrick accepted the brush-off and chuckled, glancing down at the page Spike had opened the book at.

“You in the business?”

“Business?”

“Is that how you and Alex met?”

“No.  I think you can safely call me pre-industry.”

“Really?”

Having heard the last couple of sentences Xander turned an anxious look on Spike as the two men entered the kitchen.  Spike the Indiscreet could certainly match William the Bloody for giving him the jitters.

“Met through mutual acquaintances.  Decade and some ago.  We’ve been together eight years.  Sometimes separate, but always inseparable.  If you catch my drift.”

“Yes, I think I do.”

Patrick turned to Xander with a question on his lips, losing the words when he saw the expression on his friend’s face as he gazed at his partner.  He’d never seen such painful love so graphically displayed, and he quickly understood that they must have been through some real horror stories together, and not just recently.  The look on Xander’s face was briskly replaced by interest as Spike moved toward him, spreading the book flat on the counter where Xander was making coffee and showing him a photograph.

“Is this what he – I wanted it for?”

“That’s it.”

Xander automatically wound an arm around Spike’s waist and the vampire leant into his body.

“I’m never going to make sense of this.”

“It’s the secret language of our trade,” Xander joked.  “I’ll explain it all later.  Then I’ll have to kill you.”

“Death,” Spike muttered dismissively as he slid the book along the counter and hopped up to sit cross-legged and read in his favoured spot by the semi-shuttered window.  “Saw the gig, bought the t, breathlessly waiting for the comeback tour.”

Xander and Patrick discussed work for a while over coffee before Xander offered to show his boss around the finished gardens.  As they moved toward the conservatory, Patrick glanced back to see if Spike was joining them.

“He’s photosensitive,” Xander lied with ease.  “He can’t go out in UV.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It is.  You want to see a guy burn spectacularly, you put Spike in sunlight.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow at Xander, appreciating the in-joke expression on the human’s face.  Xander put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder, guiding him away.

“Xander.  Can I just…?”

Spike tapped the page he was studying.  Xander started back.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“This.”

Spike’s hand shot out and grabbed the front of Xander’s sweater, yanking him close then kissing him surprisingly gently.  Making a point, Xander knew, although why exactly Spike needed to make it to Patrick mystified him.  Using Spike’s knees as props he slowly pushed himself away, feeling the grip on his sweater loosen.  He tapped the page as Spike had.

“And that helped your research…how exactly?”

“In a general, close proximity to my honey kind of way.”

“Okay.”

Xander tightened his hands on the bony knees for a moment, then returned to Patrick and finally made it to the garden.

“Sorry about that.”

“Why?  I’m not some homophobic prude.  I’m glad to see you happy.”  They walked for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the tranquillity of the grounds.  “Miraculous recovery.”

“It was.  Not that he’s right yet.  He’s still a bit subdued, a bit…”  Xander thought, sighed.  “Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s a problem.”

“This is very you, Alex.  Wanting everything yesterday.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely.  Maybe you should give the poor guy a chance to recover at his own speed instead of working to a schedule.”

Xander sighed again and nodded.

“That’s me.  You’re right, that’s me.”

“Rafe was fascinated by the fact you have someone in your life now.  Says he can’t wait to see the control freak out of control.”

“Control freak?  That’s pretty damning.”

“No.  Gives you an edge at work.  Left hand’s always going to know what the right hand’s doing.”

They stopped and turned back to look at the house, much as Xander and Spike had done that first evening.

“Rafe’s going to find this highly entertaining then.  I have no control over my feelings, and certainly no control over Spike at all.  Never did, not really, despite what other people thought.  Maybe that’s why he’s so…exhilarating.  He knows just where to kick to make me fall.  But he never kicks.  Prods occasionally.”

“Beth’s gone from sheer nosiness to worry overload.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s telling me not to let Alex get hurt.  I don’t know what she thinks I can do.”

“Let her know I’m okay, won’t you?  That I’m happy now.”

“Have you been waiting for this guy to show up all the time we’ve known you?”

“No.  I didn’t expect him to.  I was just missing him every minute of every day, couldn’t help it.”

“What if he leaves you again?”

Xander laughed a short, humourless laugh.

“You don’t get it, Pat.  I left him.  I broke both our hearts and gave us five years of hell.  That was my choice.  He comes to me, forgives me, loves me unconditionally.  That’s his choice.  Want to play spot the better person?”  Xander began to walk again.  “So, tell Beth to stop worrying.  This time I’m not going anywhere.”

…

Spike peered through the shutters, cursing the bright sky and trying to nag dusk into falling.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like Patrick – although he was quite determined not to on principle – and it wasn’t that he didn’t want Xander’s friends to be supportive.  He would simply prefer them to be supportive while not touching his darling every five minutes!  Calm.  He was calm.  I am totally fucking calm.  Why couldn’t this man be the average heterosexual Neanderthal, reacting to the mere whiff of homosexuality by butchly running away, getting heaving drunk on a particularly masculine brew, and shagging a bevy of buxom slappers?

Another check and they were almost at the house, and there Patrick went again, laying a caring hand on Xander’s back and making Spike growl to himself.  Right.  To the conservatory, meet them in game face, explain to Patrick about the exclusivity of me and Xander’s relationship, and then bowl his sorry arse out of the nearest available exit and put the gates on a permanent lock so he can’t get back in.  Bleedin’ sorted or what?

In reality Spike waited in the living room, curled into the curve at the end of the sofa, clutching the book that William had wanted…  Fucking William, it’s all your fault although I don’t know why but I have to blame someone.  …and pretending to read as Xander and his friend walked in, enthusing about the landscaping.  Patrick refused the offer of a beer and took his leave, smiling kindly at Spike as he went.  Compassion?  Fuck him!  By the time Xander returned from seeing Patrick out Spike had already decided it was time to stir a little.

“Xander…”

“Spike.”

“You mind that…look?”

“Look?”

“You know.  The look.  You saw the look.”

“What?  Spike, are you saying…  What are you saying?”

“He obviously swings.”

“Spike!”

“But as long as he doesn’t swing in your direction he should live to managing direct another day.”

“He was looking at me?”

Beat.

“Oh, yeah.  Yeah, you as well, I’m sure.”

“Spike…  He’s a happily married man.”

“And you were a happily female-shagging male the first time you looked at me as if you wanted to fuck me through the floor.”

“That’s…  This is…  No.”

“Okay,” Spike smiled, uncurling and stretching, rising and heading for the kitchen and a mug-full of blood.  He felt Xander following and the smile widened before the vampire carefully rearranged his features into something less provocative.

“What look?  He was looking at you?  He was looking at you?”

“Xander…” Spike said calmly, “tsk, and again, tsk.  He’s a happily married man.”

“Fuck!”

“Now?”

“No, not now.”  Xander paced away and back.  Spike hummed contentedly as he put his blood in the microwave.  “This is not about Pat, this is about your…your narcissism.”

“Narcissism?”

Spike was surprised at the accusation, which was both clever and sweepingly accurate, and impressed that Xander even knew such a word.  It was an absolute turn-on.  Spike stepped in front of his human, wanting that beautiful if somewhat uptight body, mind racing to find a way to switch this around.  Xander saw the lust, liked it much, and instantaneously did his own turn-about.  What did it matter who looked, as long as he could claim?

“Yeah.  Okay, now.”

Nope.  Didn’t do it for Spike.  Much too easy.

“You think?  Taking my narcissistic arse out of the negotiations.  If you’re really horny perhaps you can catch up with Patrick?”

“Stop playing me,” Xander demanded with a sudden burst of anger.  “You will not fucking play me over Patrick!”

Spike took a step back, an irrational rush of chip, defenceless, strong human, defenceless, pain, defenceless rattling through his mind.

“Sorry,” he said weakly, taking another step away as Xander moved toward him.  “I was joking about Patrick, I’m sorry, no looks, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Xander, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Xander saw the fear and it chilled him.  Spike scared and babbling – breathing – and how long before William stepped in to protect his beloved demon?

“Spike, it’s okay,” Xander quietly reassured.  “I’m not angry, I’m not, we’re fine.  Come here, you’re not afraid of me, come here.”  Xander held open his arms and moved slowly forward.  “Come here, sweetheart.”

Spike rushed to him, clinging to the familiar body in desperation, wondering what the fuck had happened and how he could be scared of Xander who would never harm him no matter how incensed he got.  He opened his mouth to say as much but it wasn’t what came out.

“Don’t hurt me.”

A shudder ran through Xander and he wanted to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness.

“I’ll never hurt you.  I love you and I’ll never hurt you.  I’m sorry, I lost my temper, but that doesn’t mean I’ll hurt you.  We’ve been screaming at each other for years.”

“Don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t.”

Xander held Spike for a long time, hoping to comfort and reassure him.  Eventually he felt a change in the vampire as he took in a deep breath and drew himself up, slipping away from Xander and turning his back on him.

“I’m going mad, Xander.”

“Maybe you need to talk more about what…”

“I am never going to talk about what happened to me again.  Understand that and we won’t have to fight about it.”

“Your decision.  But you know you can tell me anything.  I’ll do whatever I can to help you feel better.”

“See?  How the fuck can I be frightened of you?  You’re the one person I really trust.  I am not frightened of you,” he stressed.

“I was wrong to snap at you like that, you can’t be expected to take it like you used to.”

“Why did you?” Spike wanted to know, and badly.  “He means that much to you?”

Xander paused, thought, had to be honest.

“Yes.  He means that much.”

Spike spun around to face Xander.

“Well, why don’t you…”

“Listen.  Stop being jealous and listen.  Patrick…  Pat saved my life, Spike.  I was at such a low ebb when he approached me about working for his company, and he’s the one who turned my life around.  I can’t cope with him doing that for anything other than professional reasons.  If I thought he’d done it because – because…  I can’t even say it.”

“I was playing you.  He’s a fine person.  Seems a fine person.  Who am I to judge?  Know I don’t like the way he touches you is all.”

“He doesn’t…”  Xander stopped to consider.  “Yeah, he does, but he’s like that with all of us, he’s just tactile, and it’s harmless.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to.”  Xander saw Spike flinch, knew he was being unnecessarily touchy again.  “He may be protective and concerned, but I need that.  I have needed that.  He’s like…like Giles used to be.  I’ve needed that support.”

“That can be me.”

“You are my lover, not my father figure.”

“You think I’m too irresponsible?”

“I hope so.”  Spike had to smile at that, and when he relaxed into it he felt Xander relax too.  “I want you to have freedom and fun and a great life without ever having to worry about a thing.  You’ve been through too much.”  Tears welled in Xander’s eyes and he pulled the vampire back into his embrace.  “God, Spike, that fucking chip.  That fucking chip.”

“I’m going to call Angel.”

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t…

“Yeah.  Call Angel.”

It was all that Xander could do not to listen to the conversation.  He’d forced himself past the doorway to the living room, catching a few of Spike’s words and grudging every syllable that was directed at Angel instead of him.  Now he sat in his study, staring blindly at the list of work-related e-mails on his computer monitor, trying to reason with himself.  It was good that Spike could turn to his grand-sire for help, that was far healthier than wanting to skin him alive.  Although Xander admittedly, perhaps unfortunately, approved of the latter course of action.  Maybe it was handy that Angel’s skin was still attached – made it far less messy while he searched for a way to help Spike.  If he’s building him up for a fall…  I will kill him.  I will, literally, kill him.  Dust him, sweep him into a box, send him to Buffy.  Suck on that, baby.

“Xander.  He wants to talk to you.”

Xander looked over to the doorway, registered how down his vampire seemed.  No good news then.  Reminding himself about buying a new phone system, Xander passed Spike and went to make small talk with the creature he’d just been fantasising about staking.

“Yes?”

“Xander, how are you?”

“Impatiently waiting for you to turn up a miracle.”

“I’m doing all I can at the moment: it’s going to take time.  Spike’s very disappointed that there’s no progress.”

“Well, I’ll make him all better, you can count on that.”

“Did you follow my advice?”

“You mean…?”

“Have you claimed him?”

Xander hesitated, the urge for discretion battling the desire to taunt Angel with the one thing he knew – knew – the older vampire wanted for himself.

“Yes.  I’ve…”  Taken him away from you.  “…claimed him.”

“How was it?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, no, I meant, how did he react, no, I mean…  Is he more stable?”

“He’s had his mind and body totally fucked over, it’s going to take more than…”  Xander was suddenly aware of his vampire’s presence and turned toward him.  Spike was standing staring at him, expressionless.  I am not doughnut-boy.  I do not try and squirm out of this.  “He wants to know if you’re more stable since I claimed you?” Xander asked Spike coolly.

“Yes,” Spike replied succinctly.

“Yes,” Xander repeated into the phone despite knowing that Angel could hear everything.

The nothingness cracked apart and Spike smiled provocatively at Xander.

“Tell him…at least that’s something he won’t have to do for me.  And thank him for his concern.”

“Spike says…”

“I heard.”

Ooooh, tense.

“You’ll let us know how it’s going?”

“Of course.  Take care, Xander.  Of both of you.”

“Yeah.  Will.  Bye.”

Xander hung up the receiver.  Turning to Spike he crooked a finger, beckoning the vampire to him.  Spike took the shortest route, but traversed it at the slowest rate, knowing blue eyes fixed on heated brown.  Finally nose-to-nose, Xander tilted his head and laid a tender kiss on the waiting mouth.  Then the chin, the jaw-line, onto the neck, using a finger to pull away the t-shirt so his mouth could nudge the chain aside and settle over the rapidly healing bite mark.  Spike shivered in anticipation, hands coming up to bury themselves in Xander’s hair.

“Yes.”

Xander bit.

Repossession 25       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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