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Part 92

 

 

 

‘…Never thought of this as funny,
It speaks another world to me.
I wanna be your Easter bunny,
I wanna be your Christmas tree…’

Xander woke wearing the smile he’d fallen asleep with, reaching out to switch off the radio but hesitating until he’d heard…

‘I’ll ply the tar out of your feathers.
I’ll pluck the thorns out of your feet.’

…because it was them.  Perfectly Xander and Spike, Spike and Xander.

‘You and me.
You and me.
You and me.’

He sang along in a murmur before flicking the switch and returning them to silence, transforming the reach into a stretch, grunting with the exertion and relaxing with a sigh.  He glanced over at Spike and, after a swift mental debate, rolled to his side and nuzzled his ear.  A nip to the lobe and Spike stirred.

“Mmm?”

“I want to be your Easter bunny,” Xander whispered.

“Cheers mate,” Spike acknowledged dozily, and Xander chuckled to himself, planting a few well-aimed kisses before removing himself to get ready for work.

Xander studied himself in the shaving mirror, looking for tell-tales signs of his most recent sexual experience but, apart from the silly grin he couldn’t shake off for more than a few seconds at a time, he looked predictably, boringly Xander.  Predictably, boringly, fucked Xander, he corrected himself, and grinned some more.

He sang in the shower, imagining Spike cringing at the duff notes, and that would be Spike, his lover, who had fucked him and claimed him.  Bum heaven indeed.  Xander thought he might be sore but no, and that was probably due to a combination of Spike’s blood and the vampire vigorously finger-fucking him every time they’d had sex recently.  And I didn’t guess?  I didn’t figure out what was going to happen?  He was about to…  Xander clamped down on the train of thought, not wanting to be horny…  Rephrase that, not wanting to be hornier than he already was.  A long day ahead, ten hours minimum before he’d be back home with Spike, and that would be Spike, his lover, who had fucked him and claimed him.

Towel around his waist, damp and beautifully pink from the heat of the water, Xander wandered into the bedroom to dress.  Spike’s eyes drew his the moment he entered the room, sharp and predatorily desirous.  The vampire sat up, examining Xander from hair to toes as the human remained rooted to the spot by his own and Spike’s lust.

“You okay, love?  Physically?” Spike asked, sounding ridiculously cool considering that the heat between them was phenomenal.

“Yeah,” Xander managed to croak.

“Can I check?”

Heat.  The thought of Spike’s touch and Xander was on fire.

“Sure.”

Spike left the bed, strolled pseudo-casually across to his lover, giving him a brief kiss before turning him.  Xander caught the groan that threatened when the towel disappeared and he felt Spike’s hands on him, gently prising apart his buttocks.  There was no damage, Xander knew that, but he agreed readily when Spike insisted a little vampire saliva would heal any minor tears or sore places.  Hands on the wall, he let Spike nudge his legs open.

The groan emerged as a cool tongue lapped at Xander’s opening, persistently working its way inside the outer muscle, repeatedly probing and fucking like a juicy little cock and leaving Xander panting and squirming.  Not needing oxygen was a wondrous sexual aide, and Spike pressed his face into the cleft of Xander’s ass, forcing his tongue deep and wiggling it around.

“Oh, Jesus, you have to fuck me, Spike,” Xander suddenly exclaimed.  “Can’t go to work like this, I’ll be hard all day.  Please, fuck me.”

Spike withdrew his tongue with a last few teasing licks.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purred.

 

Xander remained braced against the wall, shaking with anticipation and watching his untouched cock dripping with excitement, as Spike fetched the lubricant and liberally coated his erection before making sure Xander was equally slicked.  He touched the tip of his cock to Xander’s ass.

“Ready?”

“Fucking hell, fucking hell, fucking hell!

“That’ll be a yes, then.”

“Fuck me, Spike,” Xander begged as Spike paused to admire the view, “will you just fuck me, you bastard!”

Spike popped the head of his swollen cock into Xander, rocking his hips back and forth a mere inch to tease Xander with just that much of him.

“Is that what you want?  Eh, love?  That what you want?”

Xander nodded frantically, groaning anew as Spike’s hands gripped his cheeks, prising them apart so he could stare, transfixed, at their joining.  He pulled his cock entirely out, pushed in, out, in, again and again, avidly watching each new penetration until Xander was babbling with need.

“Spike!” emerged in a sob, and Spike’s hands rose to smooth and soothe.

The moment his movements were no longer restricted, Xander pushed back hard, taking Spike fully inside him.  Once again Spike stilled him.

“Careful, love, I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, sorry for teasing,” Spike leant forward and kissed the tense shoulders.  “I’ll fuck you nicely now, yeah?”

“Hard not nicely,” Xander growled, using the wall as leverage as he pumped his hips and began to work himself on Spike’s cock.

Spike watched his cock disappearing and reappearing, felt the almost unbearable friction and squeeze of the tight sheath; mouth hanging open, he gasped for air as he tried not to come in a second at Xander’s enthusiasm.

“Oh, that’s right, Xander, you use me.  Use me.  That’s good, you fucking yourself on me.  So—”

Xander was grabbed tightly and kept in place.

“No, don’t stop me, I…”

“You should see this.  Feel this.  Just let me get in control.”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes, just…  Wait.”

Xander impatiently did as he was asked, and after a few minutes Spike pressed himself to Xander’s back and began a far more leisurely fuck, mouth sucking on Xander’s neck and shoulders, one hand teasing his chest and abs and nipples, the other playing with his cock; the brittle, needy noises from Xander were almost enough to tip Spike over the edge, but it was a simple, heartfelt…

“Sweetheart.”

…that finally made him lose control, and he started to give Xander what he wanted: the deep thrusts that had felt so incredible a few short hours before.  Xander hollered and shot into the fist that sped over his cock, leaving Spike to madly fuck his orgasm into the human’s clenching channel.

 

Spike unscrambled his brain enough to figure out that the bed was where they should be, and a minute later they were collapsed in an untidy heap on top of the covers.  Spike licked clean his hand, then Xander’s body, stifling the purr that Xander’s gentle stroking of his hair inspired.

“Is it always like this?” Xander questioned sleepily.

“Like what?”

“I feel so…empty.  I want you back inside me.”

“Yeah,” Spike smiled.  “It can be like that.”

“Wow.  I’ve been so crazy about you, I didn’t think I could get…more crazy.  When this project is finished I’m taking a week off so we can…indulge ourselves to the full.”

“Really?” Spike asked hopefully.

“Really.  Whatever you want to do.  So long as there’s plenty of this.”

Spike crawled over Xander’s body and peppered his face with kisses.

“You’re so special.”

“Special?”

“More than special.  Spectacular.  Fucking spectacular.”  Xander shook his head and Spike brought the movement to a halt with a tender kiss.  “Don’t argue.  Just for once.”

“Okay,” Xander agreed distractedly, cupping Spike’s skull in his hands and pulling him back to the kiss, before: “Spike…  I’m not using you.”

“I didn’t mean it like…  That way, Xander, I want to be used.  How did I get this lucky, eh?  Never thought I’d be wanted, and now…”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Spike stressed.  “I know.”

Another kiss.

“But I was right yesterday.  Your timing is crap.  I have to go, I’m already late.”

“Should I have waited?”

“No.”  Xander hugged him hard.  “No.  I’ve wanted you so much.”

“Worth waiting for?”

Xander made a show of considering the question.

“Not bad, I guess, but we’ll have to work on your obedience.”

With a laugh, Spike had Xander pinned down; to his delight, the look of concern he was expecting at the move never arrived.  Nose-to-nose:

“You know something?  I’m really looking forward to fucking some respect into you.”

Bowing his head, Spike licked a long, cool trail up the side of Xander’s neck, following the pulse.  Xander’s head tilted into the pillow, exposing and offering his neck.  The gesture was enough to cause a rush of blood to Spike’s groin.

“You can,” Xander offered in an intense whisper.  “If you’d like to.”

“I’d like to,” Spike groaned, features shifting toward game face.  He ran the points of his fangs over the tender skin, scoring but never breaking the surface.  Xander felt the panting breaths and moaned in anticipation, arching his body up against the vampire’s.  Then the pinprick sensation was gone, and Xander’s eyes flickered open to see the human face of Spike.  “I’d like to.  But I won’t.  Not yet.”

“I want you to mark me.”

“I’m going to.  Soon.  But not yet.”

“Why not now?”

“Because…I want to make something right.”  He grinned cheekily at Xander’s frown.  “You’ll understand.”

Xander heaved them over, and now he was draped over Spike.

“Nothing is ever simple with you, is it?  Okay, you won’t bite me, which is fine, I guess, although it’s totally not when you’ve been waiting as long as I have…”

Spike didn’t bother to interrupt Xander’s prattle to warn him of Hamish’s silent arrival, wickedly enjoying the shriek as Xander suddenly felt a cold nose and slithering tongue in the small of his back.  The human leapt around to face the dog, scowling at the cheerful features.

“That is so not funny!  You really are Spike’s dog, ain’t ya?”  The look of perfect innocence was confirmation enough.  “And how long has the back door been open?  The living room is full of wildlife, right?”

“You do know he doesn’t understand more than the tone of your voice?”

“Don’t fool yourself.  He speaks better human than I speak dog.”  He redirected his attention back to Hamish.  “Downstairs.  Go evict the two-hundred assorted vermin that moved in during the night.”  Hamish trotted off.  “See?  He gets it.  And he’s more obedient than your average vampire.”

 

The hand that had started out rubbing the offending cold spot on Xander’s back slipped lower, easily sliding between the still-slick cheeks, fingers searching for admittance to Xander’s body.

“Oh God, Spike, no,” Xander protested, although there was no indication of him moving away.

“What, pet?” Spike crooned, “don’t you like it?”

“I love it, but I have to go to wor…wor…work.  Ohhhhhh…”

“That’s right, Xan, just think ohhhhhh.”

Spike’s fingers gently fucked as Xander bent his leg to allow greater access, and within seconds the vampire was moulding himself to the shape Xander made, renewed erection replacing his fingers and penetrating to the hilt.

“I don’t have time…  Oh, that’s…that’s…”

“Worth making time for?”

The answer was a moan of pure pleasure as the angle ensured that Spike’s cock hit Xander’s prostate with every stroke, and the vampire took it fast this time, allegedly in deference to Xander’s need to leave for the office; a little concentrated fucking, then a torn wrist was offered and Xander drank greedily, his body bucking and writhing with the joint effect of Spike’s intoxicating blood and pounding cock, and as the vampire’s fangs pricked the nape of his neck, they soared into a further rowdy climax.

 

“I’m supposed to work now?” Xander asked, still thoroughly dazed five minutes on.

“Don’t go, love,” Spike cajoled, back to nibbling and sucking Xander’s neck where his fangs had broken the skin.

“I have to, there’s no choice.”  Pause.  “Spike.  Spike, throw me out of bed, baby.”

With a snigger, Spike levered Xander upright and balanced him in a sitting position on the edge of the mattress.

“Want help in the shower?”

“I’ve already had a…”  Xander looked at himself.  “Fuck.”

“If you insist.”

The moment Spike’s hands began travelling over his skin, Xander was on his feet.

“Shower, work, home, Spike.  Shower, work, home, Spike.  Shower, work…”

And the mantra disappeared into the bathroom with Xander.

Finally clean, dressed, ready, if reluctant, to leave, Xander gave Spike a goodbye kiss and crossed to the bedroom door.  Where he hesitated.

“Xander?” Spike enquired gently, worried by the troubled face.

“It’s…  I’m…”

Xander went to his dresser and took a small rectangular case from one of the drawers, opening it and removing the ID bracelet that Spike had bought to replace the one that was stolen.  He’d never worn it because of the association, but now there was a more pertinent message involved.  He sat on the bed, offered it to Spike, who took it, fastened it around Xander’s wrist, kissing gold and skin together once it was in place.

“Xander belongs to Spike,” Xander reminded Spike.

“And Spike belongs to Xander.  You can brand that on my arse the moment you get home tonight.”

“I look forward to it.”  Xander’s smile softened as he ran a finger over the bracelet.  “We’re doing well.  Moving on.”

“You’ve given me back my pride, Xander.”

The smile strengthened and lessened.

“Does that…  If…  Do you need me anymore?”

“Always,” Spike insisted, so adamant he sounded angry.  Or maybe he was angry that Xander had to ask.  “Always.”

“I just…  I know – hope – know you want me, but need is…”

Spike silenced his lover with a kiss.

“Take it for granted.”

“I…”

“Can and will.”

Kisses.

“I gave you back your pride?”  Spike nodded and Xander instantly crawled back onto the bed, holding Spike close, mouth finding a favourite spot, laying a dozen kisses against a cool temple where the skin was like velvet.  “You have no idea of what that means to me.”

“Y’know, love…  I think I might.”

At two in the afternoon a twiddly tune from his cell phone woke Spike; he groped for it, wondered where his glasses were, and squinted at the phone’s tiny panel as he called up the text message from Xander.  It said, simply…

‘You’re in me.’

The weekend finally arrived and they allowed their perpetual smooch to be interrupted long enough for Spike to answer the phone and agree to join Patrick and Beth for dinner that night.

“If I’d taken that call and agreed without asking you…”

“You mind?”

“No, but…”

“Doesn’t matter then, does it?”

“I’m making a point,” Xander tried hard to be firm.  Difficult when Spike was persuading bodily parts to a whole different kind of firmness.

“I noticed, very nice too.”

“Not…!”

“Let’s have you inside me, eh?” Spike murmured persuasively.  “I’ve missed you taking me, Xander.”

Xander generously let the subject be changed and stoically got on with making himself un-missed.

It was the restaurant Xander had patronized when he was living at his apartment; same table, same waiter, same scowl from Spike as Xander greeted Simon warmly by name and exchanged niceties.

Patrick and Beth were already there and Spike made his way immediately to them, sitting beside Beth and letting her grin at his possessive whinging about Xander and waiters.

“So…” Beth mused as she scanned her menu, “do you resent everyone who Alex knew when you weren’t here?  Or is it restricted to pretty young men in restaurants?”

“Everyone.”

“Even us?”

“Yes.”

“Even now?”

Spike looked at her appraisingly.  He adored this woman but there was no way he was sharing that with her.

“Sometimes.”

“You should get away,” Patrick told him as Xander finally joined them.

Spike switched his attention to Patrick in surprise.

“Get away where?” Xander asked.

“Take a break.  You could both use a vacation.”

“Bad timing,” Xander said to his boss, “and you know that.  Stop taunting with the V word.  I’ve booked a week for…”

“I saw that, but you need…”

“Stop trying to send them away,” Beth protested to her husband.

“I’ll decide,” Spike said firmly to bring the bickering to a halt.  He looked to Xander, who wore an expression of quizzical amusement.  “We will,” Spike adjusted with a placating smile.  “We’ll decide.”

“Yeah,” Xander established, “we will.”

“Just love it when you’re masterful,” Spike teased, chuckling as Xander tutted and studied his menu, inhaling the waft of pheromones that came his way from his lover.

 

An hour into their evening, celebrations began at a far table: a golden anniversary, and the central couple insisted on sending champagne to everyone in the restaurant so they could share their toasts and happiness.  The sentimentality shot straight to Xander’s soft heart, and he shuffled his chair closer to Spike’s, leaning over to whisper:

“I’d marry you in a minute.”

He didn’t anticipate Spike’s concern.

“Is that what you want, because I can’t…”

“No, not want.  Just saying I would.  No running away from you.  Us.”

Everyone was invited to join hands with their partner and be included in the couple’s blessing; Xander watched Patrick take Beth’s hand, then looked hopefully at Spike, receiving an indulgent smile and having his hand taken, tightly gripped, and brought up for a kiss.  Tucked away in their corner Xander felt quite safe their participation wouldn’t be noticed – the last thing he wanted was to make anyone uncomfortable – but the anniversary wife was eagerly scanning the room to ensure everyone was sharing her moment.  She saw their joined hands, registered Xander’s moment of alarm, and ignored it to smile at their show of affection before returning her attention to her family.

“Not everyone’s going to hate you for it,” Spike whispered.

Xander dropped his head forward as the sudden tension slipped away; his eyes prickled with tears as this, the now, added one more intense emotion to a week saturated with them.  He pulled Spike’s hand into his lap, staring at and stroking their connection while he listened to the words of the blessing, taking it for himself and Spike.

“I love you, Spike,” said at vampire hearing level as the blessing came to a close.

“I love you too.  Always.”

Spike leant in to kiss Xander, and as he did so Patrick and Beth stood, joining in the applause for the happy couple, effectively shielding their friends from the entire room.

After dinner they strolled through the mall, heading to the corner that always felt tucked away to Xander, the area that contained the curiosity shops, as Spike called them.  Where you could buy a Feng Shui toad, or a slice of Agate, an inflatable stealth bomber, a cuckoo clock; the kind of place you could find a candle shaped like R2-D2 when you urgently needed one.

Xander bought new toys for Hamish, still feeling guilty that the dog couldn’t accompany them this evening; Beth bought Moira an unusual Moonstone and silver bracelet; Patrick and Spike wandered ahead, talking vacation destinations, pausing at the end of the avenue of shops to wait for their respective partners to catch up.  All together again and Patrick and Beth exchanged a conspiratorial look.

“Okay…” Patrick began.  “Spike, this is a surprise for you.”

“What is?”

Patrick brought a set of keys from his pocket and handed them over to the baffled vampire.  Spike looked from keys to Patrick to Beth, and around again, before Beth seized his arm and turned him to face the shop they were standing outside.  The windows were shuttered and the sign was covered by a tarpaulin, but the Victorian-style door was freshly painted in black lacquer, it’s glass etched with a period design that Spike vaguely recollected from his distant past.

After an encouraging prod, Spike found the keys to open the door but stood aside at the sight of so much darkness, letting Beth pass him to find the switches and fill the unfamiliar area with light.  They all wandered in, Xander taking Spike’s hand in an automatically reassuring gesture after seeing the vampire’s earlier hesitation.  The unit was larger than it looked from outside, and the main room was rich with old wood, hefty architraves, panels beneath the dado rail, the remainder of the walls were in a deep green matt finish.

“It’s…”

“A gallery,” Beth announced, fighting to contain her excitement.

“Well, yes,” Spike agreed warily.  “But…  Why?  I mean, who…?”

“It’s for you,” Patrick told him.  “Your studio is out back.”

“No.”

“No?” Beth repeated, smile fading.

“Why?”

“You need it.”

Spike unconsciously stepped closer to Xander.

“I don’t.  I have everything I need.”

“The Partnership was looking for a new investment that we could tie in with the local arts programme, like the Shakespeare,” Beth explained reasonably, “and we wanted something a little more personal, so this idea came up.  You can blame me and my interfering,” Beth smoothly lied, “I wanted you to have somewhere of your own to work in, somewhere that would allow you to keep your home and work separate.  I have potential sittings for the next couple of months, people you agreed to but wouldn’t set dates for.  Cora’s still waiting,” she finished with, as if that were the coup de grâce.

“But…”

“You don’t have to decide now.  I’m going to run it for the time being, we have lots of submissions from local artists to fill this section.  This would be yours…”

Beth walked through a velvet-draped arch into a second, more intimate gallery room, this one panelled and with a dark rust colour on the walls; Spike followed, looking around before being ushered through another door to see the studio.

“What do you think?” Patrick asked Xander when they were alone.

“This…” he gestured to the gallery “…is great.  But I don’t feel like Spike is convinced.”

“Interested though.”

“I guess.  He’s bound to be curious, but it doesn’t mean a thing.  He’d be interested if it was just something Beth was doing and nothing to do with him at all.”  Patrick nodded in agreement; Xander moved closer and lowered his voice.  “You know she was going to take responsibility for it?”

“No.  But she’s better with Spike than I am, and he likes her more, so…”

“Don’t think that.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Xander kept the disagreement to himself, belatedly following Beth and Spike into the studio.  He couldn’t help the smile; it was a wonderful space, far more atmospheric than the room at home.  Beth was reminding Spike of client’s names, helping him associate the names with people he’d met, while Spike gazed at his surroundings with the appearance of a man enraptured.

Good sign, but Xander knew it couldn’t possibly be that simple.  He crossed to his partner and took his hand.

“Well?”

Spike glanced over at Beth.  She smiled and excused herself, leaving them to their privacy.

“Did you know about this?” Spike asked immediately.

“I…umm…in principle.  I didn’t think this was what tonight was about.  You mad at me?”

“No.  Would’ve appreciated a heads-up though.”

“I didn’t know what to do.  Pat told me he’d make the arrangements and then it would be up to you.  He’s right.  It is up to you.”

“Yes.”

Refusing to let go of Xander’s hand, Spike turned them in a complete circle as he took another look around.

“So…?” Xander led.

Spike looked at Xander doubtfully.

“A gallery?  Me with a gallery?  Can’t be right, can it?  Vampire running a gallery?”

“We’ve known demons who do far stranger things than that.”

“But me?”

“And even Angel has a day job.  Day-ish.”  The uncertainty remained on Spike’s face.  “Tell you what.  Why don’t you stop worrying about what’s expected, and how it looks, and what all the other vamps will say, and just make a decision based on what you want.  What you truly want.  Do that, okay?  And you don’t have to rush into a decision, you can…”

“I want it,” Spike said earnestly and for a brief moment Xander saw William quite clearly.

“Then have it.  When did you ever do the predictable?”

“You don’t think it’s a bit—”  Spike stopped, undeniably embarrassed.

“Anne Rice?” Xander enquired lightly, trying to keep the smirk from his face.

“Fuck, it is, isn’t it?”

Xander let the laugh out and pulled Spike into a hug.

“William the Bloody is way too cool to worry about a thing like that.”

“Is he?”

“Oh, yeah.  You do this and every demon in the state’s going to think it’s for some nefarious purpose and be kicking themselves that they didn’t come up with it first.”

Spike nodded thoughtfully.

“They’d think it was access.  Y’know, setting up victims, playing with their heads…”

“Sounds…horrible; you’d be a star.”

With a chuckle and a kiss, Spike dragged Xander to the door and out to where Patrick and Beth were waiting.  They looked to him expectantly.

“I need time to think,” he told them curtly, determined not to be as predictable as they evidently found him.  “Let’s go home.”

Still thinking, allegedly, but it was Spike who locked up, and nobody failed to notice that the keys went into his pocket.

With Spike and Beth driving it went without saying that there would be a race back to the house, and it was only Xander’s fussing and nagging that prevented Spike from winning, or so Spike insisted at length.

With only seconds between them, the Jag slowed as Beth’s BMW approached Cedar House’s gates.

“Oh, fuck,” Xander murmured, as they both noticed several members of the Fan Club hanging about.  “What the hell will Pat and Beth think of…”

Before Xander could finish his sentence, the vampires fled from the approaching vehicle, hissing and visibly terrified.

“Does that answer your question?” Spike asked wryly.

Xander fell silent, stunned by what he’d witnessed.

“You see that?” Xander had to ask in amazement as they parked up in the garage.  Spike nodded.  “That’s…umm…that’s…  What is that?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s…”

Xander was baffled and not a little shocked.  Spike reached across and gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t let it bother you, love, you won’t remember it happened by the time we get inside anyway.”

“I won’t?”

“Nope.”

“How do you know?”

“Pointless me explaining, when you’ll have forgotten in five minutes.”

Xander stared at Spike for a few seconds before responding with a start to the knock on his window.  Patrick was gesturing for Xander to come and open the door; he nodded and climbed from the car.

 

Guests inside, Xander turned to Spike, about to speak.  He hesitated and frowned as he thought.

“What were we talking about?”

Spike considered that, before answering with a shrug.

“D’know.  Couldn’t have been that important.”

“No,” Xander replied doubtfully, wondering why he felt quite so uneasy.  “Couldn’t have been that important.”

The four friends spent the next couple of hours talking about, or avoiding talking about, the gallery.  They did and didn’t discuss existing and further decoration, a choice of furnishings, and especially could and couldn’t decide upon a name.  Spike was alternately thrilled and daunted and inexplicably resentful and moved by the consideration shown, but all the time there was a little something nagging at the back of his mind, something he could only discuss once he was alone with Xander.

He knew he’d need a massive amount of support and reassurance from Xander, even now, when he was feeling so much more like his old self, but his uneasiness ran deeper, and he was relieved when their guests finally left and he could discuss his feelings freely.

“What’s wrong?” Xander asked immediately.

“We need to talk.”

“Look, Spike, you want the gallery, you take the gallery, you have the gallery.  If it makes you happy…”

“Xander, stop, listen.”  Xander did as asked.  “I know how this is going to sound, but…they’re not doing this for me.”

“Of course they are, who else would they be doing it for?”

“William.”

Beat.

“William?”

“This is something he would have aspired to.  Something he would have been ecstatic to be a part of.  They know that.  They know William.”

“But…how?”

“I don’t know.  But they know William.”

“I can’t believe that, it’s just…  No.  They can’t.”

“C’mon, Xander, you grew up in the midst of all things screwy and impossible.  Find the least logical solution and there’s your answer.”

“So, somehow they knew we would end up together?  That they could get to William through me?”

“Too simple.  It’s about you, too.”

“I…  No, Spike.  Why?”

“Demon magnet.”

“Not even in the proximity of funny.  Oh, God, you don’t think…  No.  No, no, no, these are my friends, they’re nice, normal people and somehow things are…weird.  They don’t know William, they see you paint and want to let you get something more out of it.  Independence.  Pat said you needed independence.  He was right, this will help you grow and regain your confidence and for fuck’s sake, there is nothing questionable about my family.”

“Friends,” Spike corrected.

“Family,” Xander corrected in turn, quietly.

 

“Rafe calls me Will,” Spike reminded Xander gently, aware of how difficult this was for his partner.  “Jake has called me Will when he’s been distracted.  He’s called you Xander.  He wants to call you Xander, and the others…the others are scared to.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Xander…”

“Please don’t do this, please,” Xander begged.  “Don’t make me lose them.”

Spike gathered Xander into his arms and rocked him.

“I’m talking about knowing, not losing.”

“Stop it.  If you don’t want the gallery turn it down, if you don’t want the family I’ll keep you and them apart, but don’t make me lose anyone, Spike.”

“I won’t, I promise, I just wanted to talk about it.”

“They can’t know William, it’s…  Fucking hell, why is everything always so complicated?”

“C’mon, it’s all right, we won’t talk about it.”

Spike held Xander closer still and shushed away the fear of loss.

No discussing William or the family with Xander, but it wasn’t going to go away.  And Spike had to talk to someone about it.

He thought of Angel.

He hated thinking of Angel.

His skin…prickled.

He vehemently told Xander how much he loved him.

He thought of Angel.

 

 

Repossession 93       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

 

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