WHAT'S UP WITH THAT
by Spikedluv
Notes

 

Xander stood on Buffy’s front porch, staring at the door.

"We goin’ in?" Spike asked unconcernedly from behind him, as he blew cigarette smoke out past pursed lips.

"We should," Xander said unconvincingly.

"Could go home and watch a movie," Spike suggested hopefully. "With popcorn. Drizzled with blood, though, none of that poncey butter," he added.

"Ewww!" Xander squealed, with a disgusted shiver.

Spike just grinned, and reached around him to press the doorbell. Xander shivered once more, this time in a good way, when Spike’s chest rubbed against his back. The feel of Spike’s hard chest brought back the memory of waking on it earlier that evening. Spike had been softly calling his name to wake him from the nap he’d taken after they’d had sex. Again. Hot, steamy, Spike-cuffed-to-the-bed sex. Which had been, well, hot and steamy, what with Spike cuffed to the bed, and all.

He’d woken slowly, blushing when he realized he was still inside Spike. "Hmm, hey," he suavely greeted the grinning vampire.

"Hey, yourself." Spike’s grin widened, and when Xander tried to move away in embarrassment, Spike cupped his face and pulled him down for a chaste kiss which swiftly turned heated.

Xander pulled away with a groan and buried his burning face in Spike’s neck, where it had been comfortably lying before the vampire so rudely woke him. "Spike...I just can’t do this again. I think...I think I’m chafed," he said pitifully.

"Don’t worry, luv, not gonna ravish ya," Spike replied.

Xander froze. "You’re not?" he asked, disappointed.

"Make up your mind, luv." Spike swatted his ass. "‘Sides, after a shower and a bite to eat, you’ll be good as new."

"Okay. Shower. I’m moving now," Xander said, not moving. "What time is it?" he asked.

"‘Bout half an hour before sundown," Spike said. "Figured you’d need time for a shower."

"Am I taking it alone?" Xander asked. "‘Cause I don’t think you’ve given us enough time if we’re taking one together."

"Wise ass." Spike swatted him again. "Told you I wasn’t gonna ravish you. Not until you get your strength back, anyway," he added. "Up."

"Spike," Xander said, embarrassed.

"Yeah?"

"I’m still..."

"I know, luv," Spike said. "It’ll slip out when you move."

"This is embarrassing," Xander muttered, as he began to shift.

Spike grabbed him and made him look into his eyes. "‘S not embarrassing," he insisted. "It just is. ‘Sides, it felt good, you in me while you slept."

Xander blushed more. "It did?"

"Mmm," Spike said against his lips. "So good." He nibbled on Xander’s lips, and then explored his mouth. Xander lost all sense of embarrassment as Spike kissed him, and the heated flush that covered his face spread over the rest of his body, though for an entirely different reason. Xander returned the kiss, and Spike’s hands began to move over his back, then down to cup his ass.

"Christ, Spike," Xander groaned when he pulled away to breathe, and the vampire latched onto his neck, licking and sucking. "What is it about you that makes me so fucking hot?" Spike’s tongue and lips were doing very interesting things to his neck, and Xander felt other parts of his anatomy responding. "Shit," he mumbled. "I think I’m getting hard again."

"Oh, yeah," Spike moaned into his ear. "You are."

That just made Xander hotter, and harder. He lifted up off the blond’s chest, peeled the dried wax off a nipple, and then bent his head down and licked it before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. Then he bit it.

"Oh, yeah, Xander," Spike growled, and Xander felt the vampire’s flesh harden against his stomach. Xander bit him again, and then turned his attention to the other nipple. Spike undulated against him, searching for friction for his cock, while Xander laved his nipple. He felt himself growing harder, and then could no longer fight the urge to thrust. He took his weight on his forearms, and began to move inside Spike, who wrapped his legs around his waist and encouraged him for more.

Xander kissed Spike as he pumped his hips, his cock sliding easily in and out of a passage slicked with his earlier release. "You feel so good, Spike." Xander closed his eyes as he thrust. "You taste so good." He kissed his vampire again.

"You, too, Xan." Spike’s hands were moving all over his body, cooling his heated flesh. Until he slid a finger along Xander’s cleft and pressed against his puckered hole.

"Spike, God, Spike," Xander groaned, his hips bucking as he pressed back against the finger. He moved forward, then back again. "Spike, please," he begged, and the other man held his finger steady as Xander thrust back, impaling himself on the digit. "Oh, God." He shuddered.

Xander began a steady rhythm, moving forward into Spike, and then back onto Spike’s finger. The disparate sensations were nearly overwhelming - being held inside Spike’s snug passage, and fucking himself on Spike’s finger - and it didn’t take long before he was coming again.

"Shit...Spike!" Xander cried, as his body tensed, and then his cock was pulsing inside the tight channel as he filled it once more with his release. At the first shot of come inside him, Spike erupted, his release pouring between them.

Xander melted bonelessly onto Spike, who just continued to pet him - his back, his hair - as their breathing slowed. Xander snorted.

"What?" Spike asked.

"You’re breathing," Xander said.

"Am not!" Spike denied.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are... Spike, this is ridiculous. I’m not going to argue with you about it," Xander sighed.

"Good," Spike said. "‘Cause I wasn’t..."

Xander shut him up with a kiss, and then placed wet, sloppy kisses all over his face as he carefully pulled out of him, a rush of release escaping as he vacated Spike’s ass. He climbed unsteadily to his feet, his muscles weak and achy from near constant sex with his vampire. ‘His vampire,’ he thought again. And how weird does that sound?

He staggered to the door, and looked back at Spike. "Were too," he said, and then executed a fast-paced shuffle down the hall to the bathroom, laughing at the look on Spike’s face. Spike reached him before he got to the perceived safety of the bathroom, picked him up, and carried him the rest of the way. He set Xander in the tub, and then turned on the shower.

Xander yelped as the cold water hit him, and jumped back. "Spike! I am *so* going to kill you!" he threatened.

"‘S not so funny now, is it?" Spike asked, grinning as he climbed into the tub behind Xander, pushing him back under the cool spray.

Instead of fighting, Xander ducked into the pulsing water and pulled Spike under with him. "Oi!" the vampire yelled, before Xander kissed him again.

He pulled away and grinned. "Gonna have to remember that," he said.

"Remember what?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"Ways to shut Spike up," Xander said. "Number one, kiss him."

"You wanna shut me up?" the blond asked dangerously.

"Sometimes," Xander admitted. "Other times, just wanna kiss you." He saw Spike’s eyes darken. "What’s wrong?" he asked.

"Nothin’," Spike said, reaching for the shampoo.

"Spike..."

"‘M fine," the vampire insisted in a pouty voice.

Xander stood still as Spike lathered up his hair, and thought back to what he’d said to Spike just before he turned all...hurt? He’d been joking about shutting him up. Sort of. Had that hurt Spike’s feelings? He was a master vampire, and his feelings got injured because he’d said he wanted to shut him up? Of course, he was also chipped and currently shagging a human who he’d wanted to kill until very recently. And, again, what was up with that?

He waited until Spike had massaged his scalp and played with his hair a bit before rinsing all the soap out, and said, "I don’t wanna shut you up nearly as much as I used to want to shut Anya up." He waited. Finally he saw a slight twitch at the corner of Spike’s lips.

"Git," Spike said, squeezing gel into his hand.

When they were done bathing each other, they climbed out of the tub and Xander pulled the last clean towel out of the cupboard. He dried Spike off, and then used the damp towel on himself while Spike got their clothes out of the dryer so they could get dressed.

"We need to wash the towels," Xander said when he met Spike in the bedroom.

"You," Spike said, stepping into his jeans.

"Me what?" Xander asked, as he watched Spike pull the jeans up his legs.

"*You* need to wash the towels," Spike replied, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"You help get ‘em dirty, you can help with the laundry," Xander argued, reaching for his own pants.

"Evil vampires don’t do laundry," Spike insisted.

"What do you do when your clothes get dirty?" Xander asked reasonably.

Spike shrugged. "Steal more."

Xander shook his head. He didn’t know why he even bothered. Spike had an answer for everything, it seemed. He pulled his shirt on, and suddenly perked up. "Fine. Then steal us some more towels. I like blue." Spike just stared at him, his mouth hanging open. "What?" Xander asked, sitting down to put his sneakers on.

"You want me to steal *towels*?" the vampire’s voice squeaked.

"Well, you said," Xander said with a shrug. "Besides, I hate doing laundry, too."

"I’m a *vampire*! I’m not stealing soddin’ towels!" Spike snarled.

Xander grinned as he stood. "I’ll show you how to use the washing machine."

***

Buffy pulled the door open. "Hey, Xan!" she said cheerfully. "Spike," she grumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping the boy company. And hoping for some big nasty I can kill," he said, pushing past Buffy and into the house. "Hey, Niblet!" Xander heard his voice in the hallway. "Save me a piece of that cake?"

"Hey, Buff," he said, waving his hand.

"Xan. What’s up with you letting Spike spend the night?" she asked immediately.

"I explained all that," Xander said, not really remembering what he’d said to her that afternoon. "It was no big deal. Really. So, gonna let me in?"

"Oh, sure, sorry," Buffy said, stepping aside so he could enter.

Spike was walking through the dining room with a piece of chocolate cake on a paper plate, a forkful on its way to his mouth. "This cake is great, Xan," he said. "Bit’s getting you a piece, too."

"Did you just call him ‘Xan’?" Buffy asked.

"What?" Spike sounded horrified. "No!"

Xander didn’t hear her. There was a smudge of chocolate icing on Spike’s bottom lip, and Xander could only stare at it. He had the nearly overwhelming urge to lick it off. Luckily, Dawn showed up just then with a piece of cake for him, and he eagerly took it out of her hands, glad to have something else to occupy his thoughts.

"Thanks, Dawnie," he said, feeling more grateful than even a piece of chocolate cake with chocolate icing warranted.

"No problem, Xander," she said with a smile before turning to Spike. "Hey, Spike," she giggled. "You’ve got chocolate on your lip." She pointed to her own lip, and Spike stuck his tongue out and licked the smudge off his lip.

Xander thought he might start hyperventilating at the sight of Spike’s tongue. God, that tongue...was just magnificent. The things it did to him... Xander looked away just before he started to pant, and made the mistake of looking into Spike’s knowing eyes. The blond smirked at him. In a great show of maturity, he stuck his tongue out and followed Buffy and Dawn into the living room.

"Hey, Xan!" Willow called from her place kneeling before the television.

"Hey, Will. So," he said, trying to cover up his desire to lick the vampire until he begged for release - and really, what *was* up with that? Bad enough he desired a guy, but the guy was a vampire, and the vampire was *Spike*! What was he thinking? Well, obviously, he wasn’t thinking. At least not clearly. And who could, with Spike’s hands and lips and...other things...all over them? Really it was...

"So?" Buffy said.

"Huh? So what?" Xander asked, drawn out of his reverie.

"You said ‘so’," Buffy reminded him.

"Oh, uh, yeah, so," Xander repeated. "What’s up!" he nearly shouted with relief when he remembered what he’d been going to say before he’d been sidetracked thinking about the guy-vampire-Spike who was again smirking at him. He made a point of ignoring him, and looked at Buffy, who was looking slightly bemused. "With slayage," Xander clarified. "Or life. Or...anything, really."

"No slayage tonight," Buffy said. "I told you this afternoon, we wanted to do a movie night, stay in, relax. Don’t you remember?" she asked, at what Xander could only assume was his stupid, rather than innocent, look.

"Uh, actually..."

"Xa-, er, pillock got all upset when I grabbed his...remote," Spike said, with just enough of a hesitation to bring a flush to Xander’s face. "Got all...heated up...when I changed the channel." Spike looked at him, and Xander mouthed ‘shut up’. Spike mouthed back, ‘make me’, and then grinned.

"So, you in?" Willow asked.

"In?" Xander repeated nervously.

"Movie night," Dawn clarified.

"Oh, right. Well, depends," Xander said, narrowing his eyes. "Who picked them out?"

"We all went," Buffy said.

"Somehow that’s not reassuring," Xander said. "Any action movies, or are they all chick flicks?"

"Depends on what you mean by chick flicks," Willow hedged.

"Willlll," Xander drew her name out warningly.

"There’s plenty of action," Buffy said. "Sit. I’ll make popcorn."

Xander shot a look at Spike, who pressed his lips together and drew an imaginary zipper across them. He watched as the blond walked over to the television and picked up the video containers to read the titles. He grinned as he handed the boxes back to Willow, then walked over to the couch. He set his empty plate on the coffee table and took his duster off, throwing it on the couch and plopping himself down beside it.

"Well?" Xander demanded. Spike just looked at him. "What are they?"

"Here," Dawn interrupted him, taking the now-empty plate out of his hand and picking up Spike’s, then carrying them out to the kitchen.

"Spike!" Xander growled. Spike looked up at him with raised eyebrows, his lips pressed tightly together.

"Oh, for God’s sake!" Xander hissed, dropping onto the couch next to him. "Speak. Please."

Spike grinned. "Laura Croft: Tomb Raider."

"Ahh, Angelina Jolie," Xander breathed.

Buffy and Dawn returned with popcorn and soft drinks. "He’s staying?" Buffy asked disgustedly.

"Leave him alone, Buffy." Dawn nudged her sister.

"He’s evil."

Spike preened. "‘Course I am."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. When’s the last time he tried to kill any of us?"

"Last night," Xander mumbled, and then blushed as he realized he’d said it out loud, and though none of the girls heard him, the vampire, with vampire-hearing, had. He was afraid to look at him, but then couldn’t resist. Spike was staring at him without the smirk he’d expected to see, and Xander couldn’t decipher the meaning of that look. Then Dawn was handing him a soda and plopping down on the other side of him, and Willow was turning out the lights as the movie started.

After a couple minutes, Spike shifted in the darkened room so his thigh was pressing against Xander’s, which was the absolute last thing Xander needed if he wanted to keep his wits about him. But the only thing he craved. So he forced himself to relax, allowing his body to slouch a bit so his arm brushed Spike’s. Moments later, Spike’s fingers were grazing his, and Xander sucked in a breath as he jerkily turned his hand over and twined his fingers with Spike’s.

Halfway through the movie, Spike leaned over and whispered, "Who turns you on more, Angelina Jolie, or me?" Xander, annoyed at the interruption, reached over and pinched him. "Oi!" Spike whispered loudly.

"Quiet!" Buffy hissed, and both men settled down.

As the movie progressed, Xander unconsciously leaned into Spike. He caught himself and tried to pull away, but Spike tugged on his hand so he had to stay where he was. He tensed up as he looked around the living room to see if any of the girls had noticed, but their rapt attention was directed at the television.

What was he doing? Granted, he was attracted to Spike. Obviously, since he’d been indulging in naughty touching with the vampire for...three days now. But this was Buffy’s house. He should be sitting on the other side of the room so there was no temptation to touch the blond. ‘Cause right now? Lots of temptation. Not bad enough their arms and legs were snugged up against each other, he also had Spike’s hand in his, and the nearly undeniable urge to lay his head on Spike’s shoulder. Maybe even turn a little and snuggle up next to him, wrapping his arm around the other man’s waist.

‘Stop!’ he exhorted himself. Acting on those thoughts could get Spike killed...deader. ‘No, no, no!’ he cried to himself even as his head slowly tilted, sliding along the back of the couch until it was resting against Spike’s shoulder. He was just no good with temptation, but he was tempting more than fate. Spike’s only acknowledgment was to rub his thumb softly over the back of Xander’s hand.

When the movie was nearly over, Xander sat up straight, pulled his hand out of Spike’s, and pretended to stretch. He ran his hand through his hair, and then placed both hands on his thighs, pushing his jeans down. He couldn’t resist glancing at Spike, who was watching him. He also couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips. "You," he spoke softly, just as the end credits began to scroll up the screen.

Spike slowly grinned. "Knew that," he said. "Pillock."

***

While Willow set the first movie to rewind, Buffy immediately started picking an argument with Spike. Xander rapidly grew tired of the cruel words the two flung at each other, and he could tell that Spike was quickly moving towards violence of action, rather than words. Not wanting the chip to go off, he decided to step in.

Xander covered his mouth with his hand and faked a big yawn. "Wow!" he said. "I’m beat. Think I’ll head home and get some sleep. Got an early day tomorrow." He stood, and hugged Dawn, then Willow, who came over with a pout.

"Are you sure you can’t stay?" she asked.

"No," Xander said. "Really tired." He allowed his shoulders to slump a little, and a grimace of pain from sore muscles to cross his features.

He let go of Willow and turned to Spike, who was still sitting on the couch, deeply involved in a silent staring contest with Buffy. When Spike didn’t register his presence, Xander kicked him in the leg.

"Oi! Prat," Spike snarled at him.

"Move. I’m leaving," Xander said, annoyed.

"Where’re you goin’?" Spike asked.

"Home," Xander said, faking another yawn. "Tired."

"I’ll walk you home," Spike said. "Alone, you’re a happy meal just waiting to get eaten." He gracefully stood, and reached for his duster. "‘Night, Bit. Thanks for the cake," he said, as he strode out of the room swinging the duster around his shoulders.

"If it’s that much trouble, don’t bother," Xander muttered, as he followed the blond vampire. "Goodnight, Buff," he said, hugging Buffy.

"Will you be all right with him?" she asked worriedly.

"I’ll be fine," Xander assured her, smiling despite the urge he had to smack Spike upside the head. "‘Night, everyone!" He waved, and followed Spike onto the porch, where the vampire had paused to light a cigarette. Without saying a word to him, Xander walked past him, down the porch steps and the short walkway to the sidewalk.

"What’s wrong with you?" Spike asked, as he joined him.

"Nothing," Xander replied brusquely.

"Right," Spike agreed sarcastically. "‘S why you’re not talking to me."

"Look," Xander said without looking at Spike. "If you’d rather stay and argue with Buffy, you go right ahead."

"What’s the matter, pet?" Spike asked as he blew out smoke. "Jealous?"

"No," Xander denied, lying through his teeth. Because he was. And that made him angry. He had no reason to be jealous of Spike and Buffy because, number one, they hated each other, and number two, he hated Spike. Right? Christ! Why did things have to be so complicated?

"No idea, luv," Spike replied, and Xander jerked, realizing he’d spoken that thought aloud. Great!

He wondered nervously what would happen when they got back to his apartment building. He should tell Spike to leave; that he really needed to get some sleep before getting up early for work the next day. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. But why did he feel sad about that? He hated Spike. He did! Of course, he wanted him. Couldn’t deny that. And he had been jealous...just a bit. But he *hated* him! And he really *did* need to get some sleep. Yeah, he’d...

"Well, pet," Spike said, and Xander looked up to see that they’d reached his apartment building while he’d been wondering what to do about Spike. He turned to Spike to thank him and say goodnight, when Spike spoke. "I’ll see you later, then." He turned to walk away.

"Wh-where you going?" Xander found himself asking, and could have smacked *himself* upside the head.

"Need to kill something," Spike said.

"Ah," Xander replied. "Right. You, uh, you go...do that...killing thing. I’ll just...go to bed. Gotta be up early...," he tapered off, and then just stood there watching Spike walk away. The black duster disappeared into the night, and then the shock of blond. When he could no longer make out the shadow he thought was Spike, Xander turned and climbed dejectedly up the stairs leading to his apartment.

Moving slowly, as if walking through thick syrup, Xander got undressed and pulled on a pair of drawstring lounge pants. He stared at the bed, but couldn’t bring himself to lay down on it. Not after sharing it with Spike. He walked out into the living room to see if there was anything good on television. It took a moment for him to find the remote, which Spike had tossed onto one of the chairs, and it brought back the memory of that afternoon, when he and Spike had fooled around on the couch. Which followed a morning of fooling around on the couch, and preceded some more fooling around in the bedroom.

Xander dropped the remote back onto the chair and stomped into the kitchen. He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator, angrily twisted the top off and threw it into the garbage across the room, then placed the bottle to his lips, tilted it, and tipped his head back. After chugging half the beer, he returned to the living room, dropped onto the couch, and stared at the blank television screen. He was going to kill Spike. He was all he could *think* about. All he could fucking think about. And he wasn’t here. He wasn’t...fucking...*here*.

He blinked burning eyes, and took another swig of beer. This was the best possible thing. Really. This thing with Spike - whatever it was - was a mistake. A huge mistake. Guy, vampire, Spike. Bad idea all around. Besides, he’d been trying to figure out how to tell the vampire goodnight all the way home. Spike had just beat him to the punch. Was that it? Was he just feeling...discomfited that Spike had called a halt to this madness instead of him?

That was ridiculous. He looked at the beer in his hand, then lifted the bottle to his lips and finished it. He got up to throw the bottle in the garbage, turned the lights out, brushed his teeth and tried not to stare at his sad eyes in the mirror, and then forced himself into the bedroom. He sat on the side of the bed, and picked up the candle from the bedside table. He held it to his nose and breathed in. Vanilla was now a scent he would always associate with Spike.

He set the candle down, and threw himself back on the bed. The cuffs hanging on the bedpost jingled and drew his attention. He reached up and took them down, running his fingers along them, feeling the cold metal. Xander deliberately closed one cuff over his wrist, and twisted his wrist experimentally. He considered the cuffs, then snapped the second cuff onto his other wrist. He pulled on them, then bent his thumb back and flicked the catch, easily sliding his wrist out.

Xander’s breathing became labored as he remembered Spike lying on the bed, naked, his arms above his head, wrists cuffed around the slat in the headboard. He slid to the middle of the bed, and placed his arms above his head, gripping the slats until he could feel the edges cutting into his fingers as his cock jumped in his pants at the thought of what he was going to do. Taking the loose cuff in his hand, he placed it around his wrist and clicked it shut, then pulled on them.

Xander closed his eyes and imagined Spike standing over him; looking at him, touching him. Spike’s cool fingers rubbing over his nipples, then pinching them, followed by the velvety wetness of his tongue flicking over the hardened nubs. Fingers and tongue moved down his body, softly tickling until they reached his penis.

With a light touch, the pad of his thumb stroked the tip, spreading the leaking fluid, and then trailed along the shaft and through the curls at the base before cupping his balls, gently kneading them as he took the head into his mouth and let his tongue swirl around it. Xander groaned as Spike took him in all the way, his nose buried in coarse hairs, the tip of his cock brushing the back of his throat.

Xander bent his knees and pushed his heels into the bed as he raised his hips, desperate for friction on his swollen, aching cock. He tugged on the cuffs as he rocked his hips, biting his lip to keep from screaming Spike’s name. Imaginary Spike swallowed around his cock, then lifted his head, sucking hard as his tongue worked the shaft. When he reached the tip, he lightly scraped his teeth over the nerves.

"Spiiike!" Xander screamed, and his back arched off the bed as he erupted, spurting load after load of hot fluid onto his stomach. His muscles went slack, and he dropped onto the bed. ‘Fuck,’ he groaned, then fumbled with the catch on the cuffs. When he got one cuff off, he slowly eased both arms back down so the blood could start flowing properly again, and removed the other cuff.

He rolled to his side, levered himself up, and hung the cuffs back over the bedpost before pushing himself to his feet and staggering into the bathroom. He turned the shower on, then looked at himself in the mirror. Heavy-lidded eyes opened wide in surprise when he saw the blood on his lip from where he’d bitten through it. He wiped the blood off with his thumb, then turned to the cupboard for a towel, grumbling when he realized the towels were still in the dryer.

After he was showered and dressed in a clean pair of drawstring pants, Xander returned to the bedroom, determined to get some sleep. He crawled between the sheets and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. Though his body was exhausted, his mind continued to race, reliving the last three days. ‘Damn vampire!’ Xander cursed, turning onto his side and pulling the other pillow over, hugging it against him. How could he miss him already?

Xander woke barely rested when the alarm went off the next morning. A cool shower and a strong cup of coffee didn’t seem to help. Nor was he any more alert when he got to work. A combination of not having slept well, and his mind not being on the tasks he was working on, caused him to make mistakes that meant he had to redo part of the project. When he finally got home that night, he was tired, sore, and angry. Mostly with himself.

The first thing he did when he got into the apartment was call Buffy about patrol. He ordered a couple of pizzas he’d pick up on the way over to her house, and then showered, hoping to wash away the tension along with the dirt and grime from the site. He dressed in loose-fitting pants, t-shirt, and boots, checking his jacket for stakes before leaving the apartment. He couldn’t wait to go on patrol; he needed a vampire, preferably a newly arisen fledgling, to take his frustration out on. If his mind skittered over the thought that he might run into Spike while out on patrol, he refused to allow that it influenced his decision in any way.

A couple hours later, he, Willow, and Buffy were cleaning out a nest of vampires that had just moved in to St. John’s Holy Cemetery. Buffy was fighting and staking vamps with gleeful abandon while Willow and Xander double-teamed them. Xander served as a distraction, a role which placed him on the ground more often than not, while Willow staked the vampire who thought it had found an easy meal. A plan that worked fine, until one of the remaining vamps figured out what was going on, and approached them with two friends.

Xander, sneaking glances at Willow once in while to make sure she was doing all right, held his own. Which really just meant he was holding two of the vamps off with some well-placed swings and well-timed ducks until he managed to slam the stake home. While he was busy choking on the resulting dust cloud, the second vamp took the opportunity to slam him back against a tree. He kicked and punched to no avail, and would have screamed like a girl if the vamp didn’t have its forearm pressed against his throat.

The vamp was lowering its fangs to his neck, and Xander steeled himself for the pain of the bite even as he struggled desperately against it. Before its fangs reached his tender flesh, the vamp dusted in front of his face, and he grabbed his throat and gasped for breath, ready to thank Buffy. Instead, he was left staring into angry amber eyes.

"Spike!"

 

STAKING A CLAIM

Index

Fiction

Gallery

Links

Site Feedback

Story Feedback