XANDER

Spike was the only one who knew him inside and out. Xander was The One Who Sees, but there was a drawback. There was no one to see him in return…

…except for Spike.

He doesn’t even know how far back it went. Perhaps it started when Spike caught him out that night Angel offered him as a present. Angel always was an ass. He’d rolled his eyes, but Spike had caught it. Their eyes met, and with a small nod from each to show understanding, he didn’t feel so alone anymore. Here was someone who knew what it was like to be the odd man out all the time. Nobody saw everything but them.

It was during the eve of their first Christmas, after Spike started staying with him in the basement when he’d first been chipped, that the vampire first discovered the truth. He’d just gotten out of the shower that evening, getting ready for another night of going on donut runs. He thought Spike would have left by then. He had, but left without his lighter and came back for it.

He’d come out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and buried his head in another to dry his hair. He wandered out with his head still covered. Xander didn’t hear Spike’s gasp. It wasn’t until the retrieved lighter hit the concrete floor with a dull clink that he noticed his presence. He looked up and got caught in Spike’s eyes as he spoke.

“Not quite as human as you make out, are you pet?”

No, no he wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

He had panicked right then. The towel dropped to the floor from lifeless fingers. His iridescent blue fins, flared out and shining brightly from being wet, colored darker in his embarrassment. The gills running along his ribs flared out with each of his quickened breaths. The rough blue-green patches along his arms and sides stood out in brilliant contrast to his flushed skin. His claws extended and retracted endlessly as he clenched his fingers in tension.

This was why he always made the long trek home for showers after demon hunts rather than use the one at the Magic Shop. His shirts covered his gills and upper arm fins, and his long messy hair covered the fins running along his head and down his neck. Wristbands and bracers usually hid the rough patches running down his forearms and hands. But he could never hide anything after a shower. Or swimming for that matter, but he never did that in public anymore either.

No one had figured out his condition until then. Well, except for the patrons of The Fabulous Ladies’ Night Club, but that’s beside the point. He’d kept this so well hidden. The vampire with the loyalty to no one save himself had discovered the juiciest gossip this side of the Hellmouth about the infamous Scooby Gang.

His life would be a living hell.

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Little did he know then that things would be so much different than he had imagined. Spike surprised him. He’d taken it all too calmly, all things considered. Rather, it seemed to amuse him that the Scoobies had a demon right under their noses the whole time. Never mind that he wasn’t a demon. No amount of explaining the finer details of his transformation via shark DNA, which made him more of a mutant than a demon, could sway the vampire. As far as Spike was concerned, he was now one of the boys.

Spike became rather protective of him and took him under his wing as a mentor. He was the vampire’s young padawan. He wasn’t just a comrade in arms, but a young one to guide and protect. They’d tease each other back and forth about it in private, but it was never serious.

It was odd to say the least. Xander didn’t trust him at first. In point of fact, he still loathed the damned bleached demon. But there was always that small part of him deep down that felt some kinship. This was someone that understood him in ways that others couldn’t. This was someone cursed with the vision of others, always seeing things as they truly were, yet never appreciated for what he was capable of doing.

They grew closer over the years to come. It was the small things that brought them together. When Xander would be stomped on with sharp-heeled Slayer boots and all but forgotten, Spike would always be there to back him up. Spike was there to keep him company on the cold and lonely Christmas nights he’d been forced to spend with his family.

It wasn’t until after some long hours of research through Giles’ books he’d finally learned why. Spike had adopted him as a childe. It was an uncommon practice to be sure, but not entirely unheard of in some vampire clans.

Spike had done his best to help him, and with each passing day he spent more and more of his time with him. He always said the vampire was thorough, and goal-oriented. Spike had weaseled every last scrap of information about his condition out of him, and then researched it. He started making sure his diet was filled with plenty of crab, swordfish, and tuna. He taught him how to handle his strength, speed, and agility in fights. He taught him to protect himself, and how to use his strengths to his advantage. He even took him on frequent swimming trips to be sure his instincts were honed on all levels.

Spike took pride in his accomplishments, and guided him through his failures. Spike took his responsibilities as his Sire very seriously, and he treasured him all the more for it.

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Spike was his everything.

That’s partly why he’d taken it so hard when Spike had taken up with Buffy after her resurrection. All reasons of what was going on in Buffy’s head aside, he’d felt more betrayed by Spike than the Slayer. The vampire had been by his side for so long that he never felt his loss as keenly as when he wasn’t there any longer.

He took refuge in the only place he could, in Anya’s arms. A disaster waiting to happen, but it was all he thought he had at the time. He cherished his time with her, but she wasn’t Spike.

Anya never noticed his body for what it truly was. She saw the long pink lines along his ribs in bed early on, but figured them for scars. Badges of honor she called them, won in a fight to save humanity. She was proud of him. But it saddened him that she didn’t see. She didn’t truly understand, and he could never bring himself to tell her.

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He came back together with Spike after his return from Africa. He could finally be there for his vampire in ways he couldn’t before. He had been the only one to notice the complete change Spike went through. He spent long nights in the school helping the vulnerable demon find his sanity again. He had initially tried to have him housed in his apartment, but the Slayer overruled him, and by Christmas that year had set him up in the basement of her own house.

Spike would have been all but forgotten were it not for his childe coming to care for him. He made sure he was fed enough. Though he couldn’t feed him his own blood because of the oily taste vampires hated, he had ensured his hospital contacts sent over enough blood. He took the chains off daily to help rub out sore wrists. It was during those lonely nights they finally took to comforting each other in the most intimate of ways.

They were never far apart after that.

Xander was almost ashamed to think of his reaction to Spike’s turn to killing again. He himself held so many secrets from over the years that he understood in a way nobody else could what Spike went through. They both knew that. He didn’t go so far as to help him bury the bodies, and not just because he wasn’t asked, but he was there for him all the same.

He couldn’t find it in him to blame him, or condemn him. They needed him with them now more than ever. He needed the vampire in his life, and now that he had him back he wasn’t about to lose him again.

It was his turn to be there for his vampire. He owed it to him.

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After the Fall of Sunnydale, Spike and he kept in touch with each other after a fashion. They both had loose ends to keep up with. Neither of them could let go of their family ties, such as they were. He was probably the only one of the old Scooby gang that even realized the vampire had made it out of Sunnydale alive, and for good reason. Some things were best left in the past.

They would find out eventually, as all good secrets were wont to come out, but since they didn’t hear from him again it wouldn’t matter. Not even to his not-so-little Dawnie. The Slayers couldn’t be bothered with much beyond what was in front of their little perky noses.

Hence the reason for his frequent trips out of the country. None of them ever took notice what he did with his life beyond what was currently under their narrow world view. You can believe he took full advantage of that.

Spike honestly didn’t contact him much while he was regaining his body, but he had his methods of staying in contact with his vampire. His own underground network of contacts outside of the realm of the new Council did wonders sometimes. It was those very contacts that sent him to Africa the first time.

Regardless of what his friends thought of his reasons for staying in Africa for so long, both after the Fall and during his work with the new Council, he did it all for Spike. He spent many long weeks traveling between tribes searching out what he needed. He followed his instincts more than anything, but he knew he needed to protect Spike again.

He needed to give him a safe haven.

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SPIKE

Spike fought so hard to escape Angel, but escape he did. He called his only friend, and in the dark of night his savior came for him. He had brought him home.

He never spoke with Xander much about what happened in L.A., nor did he think he cared much to know, but he didn’t come out of it unscathed. Spike is thankful for everything Xander did for him. Once he had arrived in Africa and settled in with the tribes there, he was finally able to be at peace with himself. It did wonders for his whole being.

It wasn’t bad for his tan either.

That was one thing Buffy or her precious Angel ever figured out. His first visit to Africa didn’t get him just his soul; it helped him to regain his humanity. He didn’t need the Ring of Amara any longer to be in the sun. He could spend all day with his boy at his side without ever worrying over the fatal threat of sunlight.

Watching his boy that first morning under the light of the dawning African sun left him with such a feeling of warm contentment. It was a feeling he would forever cherish.

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His life had been turned upside down and inside out the moment he met Xander. From that first instant of understanding between them, to the realization that there was more to Xander than anyone knew. He meant more to him than anything else in his life, even his black goddess, and that was saying something.

Xander, his very own droopy boy, was more than he seemed. None of that damn little Scooby club even noticed. He was never very surprised by that, but he was hurt on his behalf.

Anything for Xander.

He had purpose again. His purpose was Xander. He was indeed a motivated go-getter, and most especially when his boy needed him. There wasn’t anybody else to fulfill that role but him.

He isn’t even sure how it happened, just that it did. Xander had gone from monkey boy to nummy treat the second he’d found out Xander was a demon. Xander never could admit to being a demon, something about fishy steroid aromatherapy. It didn’t much matter to him. He’d never had a childe of his own, and now was his chance.

Xander was his.

He never realized how much work it would be. The boy attracted trouble like Hellions to a Slayer-less Hellmouth. But with the boy’s abilities, he had potential. It was worth it.

He was never quite sure why the Watcher never realized what he was researching, but he’d gone through everything the Watcher had, and called in all his contacts to gather information on Xander. He wanted to be sure he knew what he was getting into with taking care of him. He’d heard rumor of a school of humanoid sharks off the coast of Hawaii; mako shark and tarpon hybrids if his sources were to be believed. But even that much was enough to tell him what he needed to know.

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He knew at first it was his own way of dealing with pain. Concentrating on projects, like he did with Drusilla, always managed to distract him. This time it was the pain of loss of both his bite and his love. In time, though, it became so much more than that.

Xander did so much for his friends that nobody ever saw. He had built up his own underground network of contacts over the years, one that rivaled even Spike’s own. He supposes it was partly due to his demonic allure. It wasn’t just his network, but his own abilities that saved them. He did far more than fetch donuts and fix windows.

He could talk his way out of nearly any situation. He was truly deceiving in that his babbling truly belied his way with words. He did it more times than anyone realized to get the Slayer, or any of his other friends really, out of situations that they couldn’t get out of by fighting alone. It was all done without anyone the wiser. Not even the watcher-boy in all his wisdom noticed.

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Drusilla interfered in his life throughout his time with Xander. His relationship with Buffy was evidence of that. Xander never knew what had happened, and he was loath to tell him now. It’d been so long. They’d come so far. It didn’t matter anymore. She was gone; he’d made sure of that.

They became something more during his isolation in Buffy’s basement prior to the Fall of the Hellmouth. It was… intense. Neither of them expected to make it out alive, and they took their solace in each other’s arms. It changed something in each of them; something that remained even after all was said and done.

He’d gone and fallen in love with the boy.

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After his time in L.A., he’d repaid his debt to Angel for helping him regain his body as best he could. But he became trapped there, and not just in the physical sense. Angel wouldn’t let him go. He called on the only lifeline he had: his Xander.

In a move even Angelus would applaud, he came to him in the night like a mysterious knight in black-clad armor. He’d acquired the services of a private jet and whisked him off to destinations unknown.

Surprisingly, at least for him, they’d ended up on the outskirts of the tribe that bordered the cave where he’d gotten back his soul. The people were good to him there, and he owed them so much. He and Xander spent quite a bit of time there while they built their home. It actually ended up in a lovely region in southern Africa. Nice warm waters for Xander, lovely isolation and relaxation for him.

Xander didn’t stay long. He was there off and on for several months before he returned to them. He never really understood why he went back to them. They rebuilt their Council with his help. He supposes it all doesn’t matter now. Xander always came back to him when it mattered. Which given his and Xander’s enhanced sexual drives, was quite often.

When all was said and done, Xander was still his.

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TOGETHER

Xander took an extended vacation of sorts when he’d first settled Spike in their new home in Africa. They had built it together with the help of the local tribes. They helped not only with the labor, but in setting up protections that would safeguard them.

Angel seemingly disappeared after Spike left. Neither of them looked too hard, but so long as he left them alone they didn’t care. The Scoobies were a different story entirely. It took Xander working with them on a semi-regular basis for them to stay off their backs.

It was a well-spent effort.

Christmas had become somewhat of a new tradition for each of them, and an anniversary of sorts. They both had their own histories to contend with when it came to holiday spirits. Spike had his English traditions, and bloody vampiric tendencies, while Xander had his own beloved family leaving a negative imprint on the holiday. But it was also a celebration of their time together.

In the end, they had settled for a compromise that suited them. Each Christmas, Xander arrived just days before the Eve, and helped pack everything up. They would trek out to the large Mountain Cypress in the valley below them. They would decorate it as best they could, but given its size it was always a challenge.

They would set up their camp a few feet away, ready to sleep under the stars. Spike was always the one to bring their Christmas feast with them, packed away in an old picnic basket. They would have roast turkey, blood pudding, and mince pies. More often than not, they’d end up sharing their meal with a few members of the tribe Spike and Xander had befriended.

They viewed it as a worthy exchange for their mutual protection.

On Christmas morning they exchanged small gifts and kisses. Christmas night they spent under the stars, naked before the heavens. Coming together once again.

Only seeing each other.

It would take many more years before the new Council was settled enough to stop noticing the increased time Xander spent away from them. He took longer and longer vacations, until one day he just never returned.

On the anniversary of their tenth year together, they came together on Christmas morning to become as one for all eternity. That morning, Spike sired Xander. That night, they finally mated. Xander followed in his Sire’s footsteps and was allowed to retain his humanity. Their days and nights would only be spent with each other as friends, lovers, and mates.

It was a time they would cherish together forever more as eternal lovers.

FINIS