Feedback: Suit yourself, just no permanent damage, k.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, neither set of pretty kittens are mine, and I must be content to merely play with them, but I will gladly groom and bathe them all before sending them back home to their Daddy's (aka Joss/Mutant Enemy/et al, Kripke/McG/et al, respectively- oh, and a bunch of other corporate-type ppl who aren't me).
Warnings/Squicks: post-Chosen, no such thing as S8, AU
Summary: Xander isn't coping well with the aftermath of Sunnydale, but Willow thinks she may have found just what the doctor ordered…
AN1: The title and chapter headings come from Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening -Robert Frost
AN2: The story takes place post- Chosen for BtVS (S8, what S8?), covers AtS through Damage, and is pre-series for SPN.
AN3: Sorry, ppl, but this is NOT a Xander/Dean pairing fic, it's pure Spander with a generous helping of Dean friendship.
***Prologue***
"Hey, DM, a little help here?"
The lithe body above the young man promptly turned into a rain of dust before the question had even been completed.
"Thanks man," the hazel-eyed brunette offered as his 'rescuer' helped him up.
"No problem, glad to be of service. You'd think, in your line of work you'd be better prepared for this kind of thing," he chided his companion humorously.
"Well, we can't all be raised on a Hellmouth with witches, vampires, and Slayers as our best-friends. Some of us don't get to specialize."
It was an old, friendly argument between the two. Both men knew full well they had vastly different areas of 'expertise'. It was part of what made them such a great team.
For over six months now, Xander Harris and Dean Winchester had been together (no, not like that- shesh, people get your minds out of the gutter), roaming the countryside, fighting the good fight, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…
***Chapter 1: Lovely, Dark, and Deep***
Willow worried about Xander. He didn't smile as much these days and he seemed to turn in on himself. He brooded almost as much as Angel, and the oddest things seemed to set him off. The young witch had been prepared for fallout from Anya's death, only it never came- not so you'd notice at any rate.
It was strange, when they'd been recuperating in L.A., Wesley and Gunn had tried to get Xander to go out, grab a beer, do guy things, but he would beg off finding some excuse or another. Even Angel had tried to coax the young man back out of his shell- Angel would have been happy just to have gotten a "Deadboy" out of him, at least then he would know everything was normal with the boy. The only person who seemed to connect with him was Lorne. If Xander wasn't in 'his' room or with Dawn, he was off with the flashy green demon.
Now that they were away from the L.A. crew, Xander was in Africa- Willow'd tried to talk to her friend, but all he'd say was he needed time- alone. And that no, it wasn't because of Anya, and no, it wasn't the pirate look he was sporting. It was personal, between himself and his heart.
'Himself and his heart,' that phrase was what worried the red-headed witch the most…
Then the Winchesters all but fell in her lap. After Sunnydale, when the Scoobies set about rebuilding the Watchers' Council, Willow and Giles took up organizing and networking their little occult hearts out, which was how they came to find the Winchesters. It had taken Willow less than five minutes before she knew that Dean was exactly what could bring her oldest and dearest friend out of the funk he'd been in since the battle with the First. Dean was cocky, arrogant, street smart, snarky, had a mean sense of humour, and a trace of darkness that was as much a part of him as his expressive hazel eyes. In other words, he reminded her of Spike. And Spike had always been able to get to her Xander-shaped friend. For good or bad, the vamp had known how to get a rise out of him, and Willow hoped Dean would be able to provoke the same reaction. She missed her Xander.
The next time Xander returned from R & R (Recon and Recovery), Willow made her move.
"Hey Xan, you up for a change of pace?"
"Sure Will," he replied groaning on the inside. Why couldn't they just let him be? He was fine. Just needed some time. *Hello, twenty-something processing earth-shattering, perception-altering, turning-your-world-upside-down type info here! Gimme a break…* "What'd'ya have in mind?"
"We need someone to meet up with a father/son demon hunting team. They could be good allies, not to mention the first-hand information they could share!"
The young man shrugged, "Okay, sounds good, but why me?"
"You'd rather we sent Andrew?"
"Only if we want to make more enemies."
Xander's response had the young witch giddy with excitement- not only had he agreed to go, but he took a pot-shot at Andrew!
A week later, Xander was sitting in an Iron Skillet waiting for his first meeting with John and Dean Winchester.
He sat in a corner booth, window to his left, decent view of the entrance, good view of the parking lot, and a clear view of the rest of the dining area.
When the large black car roared into the lot, Xander felt his heart skip a beat. Logically, he knew it wasn't The Desoto (hells, he doubted it was even a Dodge), just as he knew that the driver wasn't a dead sexy, bleach blonde, snarky, undead bastard with eyes so blue you could drown in them as easily as you could drown in the clearest oceans. Still, his heart jumped at the possibility, however fleeting.
Xander prided himself on having few regrets, he figured it came with living on the Hellmouth and 'knowing' it. But there was one regret he was still fighting with. One that he kept pretty much to himself- hells, if Lorne hadn't cornered him in 'the aftermath' he'd probably still be keeping it from himself. After his initial freakage, he sought out the green music loving demon- and wasn't that a surreal conversation, or ten! At any rate, Xander found himself examining himself, his life, his loves, and his friendships. *Introspection- not just for the broody undead anymore.* What he realized, much to his chagrin, was that maybe, just maybe he wasn't as straight as he thought, and perhaps he and Buffy had more in common than he was comfortable admitting.
A slamming door brought Xander out of his musings and back to the car- an Impala, maybe- or more accurately the two men who had just climbed out of it.
One was older, 40's or 50's, built kinda like Angel with broad shoulders and a haunted look about him. The other man was younger, 20's probably, a more compact version of his companion. These two might just be the people he was here to meet; he'd know soon enough.
As the two entered the diner, they seemed to give the place a once over before the elder man cocked his head in Xander's direction.
If Xander needed further confirmation, he got it when a hand was presented to him and a voice spoke, "Mr. Harris, I presume."
Despite himself, Xander smiled at the man as he shook his hand, "You must be Dean."
"Yep, and this is my dad," he indicated the other man.
"John," he said as he shook Xander's hand in turn.
"Nice to meet you. Willow sends her regards."
The trio talked into the night. Only parting ways after agreeing to meet at John and Dean's motel the following day.
They sat around the Winchester's room, laughing and trading tales of demons, Hellmouths, spells, and possessions. Eventually, the elder Winchester begged off claiming that a comfortable bed and nothing to hunt were too rare an occurrence to allow to go to waste, but that the boys shouldn't let that stop them from continuing their evening.
Shortly after being shooed from one motel room, Dean and Xander were ensconced in another- this one belonging to the Scooby.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, how'd you wind up doing this?"
"Easy. Demon killed my mom. Dad took me and Sammy on the run, one thing led to another and…," the young man shrugged- not the shrug of one who doesn't care, but the shrug of resignation.
"Sorry man. Didn't mean to open a wound."
"Hey, no worries," Dean gave a small smile, "was twenty years ago."
The two sat quietly for a moment, nursing their beers, before Dean asked, "What's with you and Eglantine?"
Xander damn near spewed beer all over the carpet. Choking, he wiped his mouth, "Who?"
"Your witch, Willow."
"Willow… Eglantine? What?"
"Telling me they didn't have movies in Sunnydale?" Dean rolled his eyes, "Eglantine Price- Bedknobs and Broomsticks- witch, fights off a battalion of Nazis with re-animated suits of armour. Any of this ringing any bells?"
Xander gaped.
"O-kay, guess I can't call ya DM either, then?"
Xander wrinkled his brow at that reference.
Sighing, Dean covered his left eye with his hand saying, "Danger Mouse."
Suddenly as that, Xander burst out laughing. "Oh man, does that make Giles 'Colonel K'? Ha! He'll hate that more than 'G-man'."
"G-man?"
Xander chuckled and flapped his hand at Dean as if waving the words away, "Just a nickname. One of many. Though why my calling him G-man was worse than Spike's 'Rupes' I'll never know!"
"Spike?"
"Yeah, Spike," Xander got a far off look, "friend of ours."
Dean knew that look, but curiosity got the better of him, "What happened?"
"He died when Sunnydale went down."
"You guys were close."
Xander eyed Dean as if he'd grown another head. Trying to mask his shock, he asked, "What exactly do you know about us?"
Now it was Dean's turn to look confused. "Know you work for the Watcher's Council and that it was your bunch that took down the California Hellmouth. Beyond that, not much."
Taking a deep breath Xander asked, "You know about Angel?"
"Vamp, based in L.A., supposed to be some sort of 'champion', right?"
"Well, that's the PR version. What about The Initiative?"
"Sure, they're one of those Area 51-type operations."
"Oh brother," Xander ran his hand through his hair and began the long story of the male half of The Scourge of Europe- curses, chips, souls, and all…
"Fuck."
"'bout sums it up, yeah."
"Sounds like Spike was more a hero than this Angel guy."
"Hmph. Don't let it out but Spike was a better man-vamp-person than Deadboy could ever be, even before the soul."
Chuckling, Dean sputtered, "He was your Penfold."
The segue way seemed to come straight out of left-field. The suddenness and the image his words brought forth caused Xander to laugh and cringe simultaneously. "Jeez, thanks Dean, I will never be able to look at a hamster with a straight face again. Though I doubt Spike would stand for being relegated to a sidekick."
Completely unremorseful, Dean gulped his beer, tilting his head to the side as he raised one eyebrow, "Hey, shoe fits."
"Yeah, well in this case they'd be ancient Docs going where the sun don't shine."
Dean smirked and chuckled. He liked Xander, liked having a guy around to do guy things with. Not that his dad wasn't great, but he was his dad! And no matter how unconventional their relationship was, there were some things that weren't father-son material. Besides, having Xander around made him miss Sammy a little less. It certainly made him feel less alone.
Xander wasn't looking forward to leaving, but he had Slayers to locate and the Scoobies were counting on him. Still, hanging and talking shop with Dean was the most normal he'd felt since Sunnydale. It felt good. He felt good.
John Winchester was not, by nature, an indecisive man. In his 'business' indecision could all too easily equal death, but this was different. For the first time since his youngest son left, his eldest was happy. And despite common perception, a happy Dean was a more focused Dean. So, the question was, should he try to get Xander to join them or, more to the point, join Dean?
Willow was confused. When she'd sent Xander to meet with the Winchesters, she'd had high hopes for Xander's and Dean's friendship. Her hopes seemed to be fulfilled judging by Xander's 'reports' and the few phone conversations they'd had recently. Xander had seemed so much more like his jovial Xander-ish-self… until yesterday. She hoped that it was merely that her friend was having a bad day, but she was afraid that it was more than that.
Sighing heavily, she checked the time and reached for the phone. It was time to lay the cards on the table- first with Xander, then the Winchesters.
Xander saw the familiar number on his caller id and quickly answered. "Hey, Wills, wasn't expecting to hear from you 'til tomorrow. Everything alright?"
"Yeah Xan, I… would it be completely emasculating to say I was worried about you?"
"As long as I'm the only one who hears it, I think my manhood and I'll survive."
The witch giggled at the mirth in her friends voice as much as his words. "Oh, Xander, it's good to hear you happy. I've missed that."
"Sorry, Willow, I've just been working through some stuff, you know."
"Xan? Do you not want to come back?"
"Of course I do! I love you guys, besides, I'd be lost without my Willow."
"Oh."
Xander was confused, his friend sounded so small, did she want to get rid of him? Trying to sound authoritative, and considering he was talking to Willow, super-witch-extraordinaire, he figured it was futile, but he wouldn't be Xander Harris if he didn't try, "What is it Willow?"
"It's only, well, you sounded so happy when you got there and more and more of our Xander seemed to be coming back, then we started talking about your coming home and you got all un-Xandery again, so I thought, maybe you wanted to stay. And it's fine if you do- we… I just want my Xander-friend to be happy again."
"Wills," he hadn't wanted to have this conversation over the phone, but there were some things Willow needed to know about him and his feelings and , well, just things, "this may take awhile."
After her chat with Xander, his behaviour the past months all fell into place. She only wished she had known and could've been more help to him. At least now she'd be able to do something- a quick word with Giles and a very enlightening conversation (in which she learnt of John's belief that his son needed someone like Xander around to keep him sane and focused) with the elder Winchester later had ensured Xander's and Dean's partnership.
***Chapter 2: Promises to Keep***
The two men were on their way to L.A. A request from Willow to check in on Angel and the AI crew and their 'evil law firm'. Hadn't that been fun to explain to Dean.
Once Dean wrapped his head around the theory and why it was better to have a souled vampire running the place then to try to take it down, Willow had let him in on the 'other' (and, for her, more important) reason for the L.A. excursion- rumours of Spike's un-dusty state.
Willow carefully failed to mention she'd already had the rumours confirmed by an empathic green-skinned red-horned demon. She also carefully left out Lorne's not-so-subtle insinuation that the souled vamp in question needed a certain dark human male of her acquaintance just as much as the mortal needed the vamp.
And despite Giles' insecurities, she still trusted Angel and his crew. Besides, it was nice to have someone else to help play the Yenta. Now, if they could only set up Connor and Dawn!
When the duo arrived at Wolfram and Hart, they received a less than warm welcome.
Seemed another thing Willow forgot to mention was Giles' none too accepting opinion of Angel and Co running the law firm.
"Listen Deadboy, Willow asked us to stop by, that's all! Wills asks, we do. I haven't even talked to any of the others in months- Buff's too busy with the new girls, Dawn's finally having an almost normal young-adulthood, and Giles is, well, Giles. So, how 'bout you let me in on the big evil before you rip my head off, 'kay."
The elder vamp sighed heavily- there wasn't much else you could do when faced with an irate and determined Xander Harris.
"We're terribly sorry Xander, but you must understand we had no way of knowing about your limited contact with the Council."
"I get that Wes, now can we make with the explaining already?"
"Yes, well, it seems the Council has decided that our take over of Wolfram and Hart has compromised our credibility as well as our ability to be trusted."
"What!?" Xander was utterly confused. Why would Willow have sent them if she thought Angel had changed sides.
Snickering, Dean could no longer hold his tongue, "Oh, that's rich coming from a warlock who used to summon demons, a witch who tried to bring about an apocalypse, oh and let's not forget the psycho-Slayer in Cleveland- but you guys are evil." Dean shook his head, amazed at the lack of logic some people showed.
Surprisingly, Xander was the first to break- his giggles bubbling over and triggering everyone else's. After a moment, the men regained their composure.
"Angel," Xander intentionally used the vamp's chosen name, an olive branch of sorts after the recent tension, "it was a long trip and Dean and I could use a rest, so, unless you need canon fodder or there's a scheduled apocalypse in the next few hours, we're gonna grab some shuteye."
Taking the truce offering for what it was, Angel did the only thing he could, "You guys have a place set up?"
"Yeah we got a room." The young man smiled honestly at the vamp, "Thanks Angel."
Angel offered a half smile, "No problem, Xander. Why don't you two come back after you've slept? I know Fred and Lorne would love to see you."
The young man's smile brightened at that, "Likewise."
The men said their goodbyes and Dean and Xander headed off to their motel.
Back in his office, Angel poured two large glasses of whiskey.
"Well, that was unexpected," Wes stated calmly as he took the offered liquor.
Angel sat back, nodding, "What do you make of it?"
"I think, it's possible that not everyone in the Council is of the same mind. Namely, Ms. Rosenberg, it seems, still has faith in us."
Swigging his drink thoughtfully, Angel commented dryly, "I just hope it's not misplaced."
Once at the motel, Xander's first move was to call Willow.
As he hung up the phone, Dean emerged from the shower. "What did Eglantine have to say?"
Xander rubbed his face in his hands, he was tired, his eye hurt, and seeing Angel brought back memories and feelings he'd thought he'd finally dealt with, but none of that was Dean's fault. In fact, the opposite was true, Dean was a big part of why Xander was doing as well as he was. Xander took a calming breath before he spoke, "Wills didn't want us going in with any 'preconceived notions'." He exhaled loudly, "I still think she could've warned us!"
Dean sat on the bed across from Xander's and smiled his lopsided smile, "DM calm down, she was just trying to protect all of us. Now go take your shower and get some sleep- you look like shit."
"Thanks Dean, way to buck a guy up."
"My pleasure," Dean quipped back unremorsefully.
The next day they spent checking in with their L.A. contacts. Xander would always be a people person and he liked to have faces to go with the names and occasional voices he talked to. Yet, after a day of slayerish meet and greets, all Xander wanted was to head back to their room and pass out- comparatively apocalyae were easy.
Dean eyed his companion carefully. Xander was looking a bit rough around the edges, and he thanked the powers that be that this was the last of their contacts. Normally, Dean wouldn't have pushed to see everyone in one day, but especially if Willow's info was right and Spike was alive or undead… whatever you called it, he wanted Xander to be able to take time to deal with that without 'hunting' business looming over his head. "Hey DM, relax. This is our last stop, then we can head back to the motel, order pizza, down a couple cold ones, and call Gelhead and arrange a get together for tomorrow. Sound good?"
"No. Sounds great." He was looking forward to talking to Lorne and seeing Fred, but today he didn't think he could handle more dredged up emotions- he might be bi, but he wasn't a total girl.
Unfortunately, the fates, it seemed, had different plans for the pair.
It was just past sundown and they were headed back to their motel when Xander's cell rang.
Xander sighed at the familiar strands of "Tubular Bells" being emitted from his phone, indicating the call was from a Wolfram and Hart number. "Hello."
"Ah, Xander, we aren't interrupting anything , I hope."
"No Wes, we were just finishing up. What's up?"
"Actually, we could use your assistance."
"Oh, Xan-man brand fodder," he snarked.
"Not exactly…"
Several hours later, Xander and Dean were camped outside of a large nondescript warehouse near the docks. Apparently, the evil lawyers hadn't seen fit to employ non-magical or non-demonic surveillance methods and both Wesley and Fred were too well known in the demon community to be inconspicuous.
Fortunately for Angel and Co, Dean and Xander were up for the task.
Unfortunately, it meant their plans for a calm night of pizza and beer in their room were transformed into a rather boring night of pizza and coffee in the car. They spent most of the night counting and cataloguing the various demons that came and went.
Shortly before dawn, there was a mass influx of demons, vamps mostly- not unexpected considering they were staking out the meeting place of the new idiot, erm, baddie making a play for a chunk of L.A. What was unexpected were the humans. At least, he assumed they were human- the vamps with them took great pleasure in snarling and hissing, and even greater pleasure in their captives' screams.
Before he could think better of it, Xander was climbing out of the car, stake in hand, "Call Angel."
"DM?"
"Don't worry Dean, I'm not that crazy. If I can get 'em out, I will; otherwise I'm just gonna do a little recon, maybe see what I can do to improve our odds." Closing the door he turned, "Now, get Deadboy here- fast!"
***Chapter 3: Darkest Night of the Year***
"Where's DM? He alright? I want to see him."
"DM?" Wes' cultured British voice asked.
"Right. Xander- how is he?"
"He lost a great deal of blood, but he's a resilient young man. He'll recover."
Dean visibly relaxed, "Can I see him?"
"Shortly. We need to get some information first, if you don't mind."
"And if I do?" Dean was not a happy man. He was trying to be patient, after all these were Xander's friends, but it was difficult when he was being treated like the enemy and wasn't getting any real answers.
"Please, Mr. Winchester, we just need to know what happened."
As he spoke, Angel came in. "Wes?" He pulled the ex-Watcher aside, whispering, "Could you go find Spike?"
Wesley nodded once and went in search of the wayward vamp.
Angel sat down in the chair across from Dean, "What exactly happened?"
"We were watching the warehouse, like you asked. Around 4 a.m., DM sees a group of vamps herding some humans into the building. He told me to call you and he went to check it out. Your guys showed up, all hell broke loose, you brought me back here, and I still haven't gotten to see DM!"
Angel sighed, this was uncomfortably reminiscent of dealing with his petulant Childe and Xander Harris rolled into one.
As if on cue, the door to his office opened, "Oi, what's the emergency Peaches? Someone nick your hair-gel?"
"You must be Penfold," Dean smirked. He'd heard enough about the supposedly dead vamp to put two and two together.
"Uh, Peaches?" Spike was barely holding his temper in check. He'd spent the past few months as a ghost-thing getting sucked into Hell too often for his own comfort, then that crazed Slayer when he'd finally got his body back, and now some punk git who smelt of his boy was comparing him to a hamster. Spike was not amused.
"Spike, this is Dean Winchester. He and Xander were lending a hand…"
Spike might be a deca-duo-generian, but that didn't mean his brain was slow. He couldn't keep himself from growling, "Where's the Whelp?"
Angel sighed again, "The infirmary. Fred and Lorne are with him," but he was talking to a closed door. He ventured a look at Dean, who managed to look as smug as his Childe ever did. "Well, come on," the elder vamp groused.
Spike was torn, he had spent more time than he cared to admit 'thinking' while he was doing his ghost impression and more often than not those thoughts had been of a dark-eyed dark-haired boy rather than a blonde, hazel-eyed Slayer. He could admit that he missed Xander. He could admit that he cared about the stupid git, wanted him even. But unless there had been some major changes in the boy- well, let's just say, he figured his chances were better with Buffy. Still, his boy was here and he had to see him.
He didn't stop for directions, instead relying on his enhanced senses of smell and hearing to lead him to the mortal. He purposeful stride slowed as familiar voices drifted to his ears.
"He should be fine. Wesley said he's had a lot worse- what with livin' on the Hellmouth and all."
"Fred, pumpkin, who're you trying to convince?"
"Sorry," Spike could tell Fred was curling up on herself and looking smaller than a church mouse.
"Tut-tut, none of that. Stud muffin here is going to be just fine. Besides tall, dark, and delicious has someone waiting for him now. It wouldn't do for him to go just when things are getting interesting."
Well, that was it, wasn't it? The Whelp had a girl, probably one of the new Slayers. At least it made Spike's decision easier. He'd check on the boy, get one last image to hold, one final whiff of that heady scent, then he'd go. He didn't care where, just as long as it was away from the reminders of what he wanted and what he could never have. With an air of calmness he didn't feel, Spike entered the boy's room.
The green demon smiled at the younger vamp, "It's about time Sunshine, come to check on your boy?"
The expression on the vamp's face was somewhere between disinterest and contempt.
"Riiiight." Taking the girl by the arm, "Fred, sugar, why don't we get some java," he steered the girl out of the room, "or some scotch?"
For several long minutes, Spike merely studied the boy- how dark he'd gotten, how his hair was getting shaggy again, how his face and body seemed just a bit leaner than before. Finally, he gave in and ran his hand over Xander's warm face before pushing the hair from his forehead and placing a tender kiss there. "Love you, ya silly git," he breathed as he stood up.
"Mmm, love you, too Spike," the injured man whispered, still more unconscious than not. "Don't go."
Spike couldn't believe what he'd heard, he didn't dare believe it.
Meanwhile in the corridor outside Xander's room, Dean was getting his first up close and personal encounter with a Pylean.
"Whoa." Dean turned to the grumpy vampire with him, "Tell me that's Lorne and not your idea of nursing staff."
Angel's expression dripped disdain and rather then answer the young man he turned his attention to the pair heading towards them. "How is he?"
"Still unconscious, but he's getting his colour back."
The vampire made to pass the demon and enter Xander's room, when a green hand grabbed his arm, "Ah, Angelcakes, I wouldn't do that just yet- Junior needs a minute."
Wrinkling his brow in annoyance, Angel snapped, "Not now Lorne."
"Yes, now. He needs…" Lorne stopped mid-sentence and the look of shock on Angel's face told him the elder vamp had heard the words as well.
Visibly shaken, Angel whispered, "Does he?"
His friend smiled softly, "With his entire being."
The vamp clapped the demon on the shoulder, nodding his head in understanding and grudging acceptance as he slowly moved to the entrance of the boy's hospital room.
He could feel the eyes on him- his Sire's eyes. Not "Angel", his eyes full of mistrust, regret, and self-loathing, but his Sire. Eyes that spoke of pride, possession, and protection- for the first time in almost a century Spike felt his Sire in Angel.
As the younger vampire stood transfixed on the man who'd just declared his love, Angel placed a hand on the blonde's slim shoulder.
Spike closed his eyes, a whimpered, "Sire," escaped his lips as cool tears escaped his eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have believed me?"
"Will…" but the elder vamp knew he was right. "I'm sorry, Will, for everything."
To Angel's surprise and secret delight, Spike's response was to cover his Sire's hand with his own and squeeze.
"He's going to be fine."
"I know- bloody git's like a cockroach, impossible to kill. I just…," Spike turned to face the dark vamp, "Do you think he meant it? Or is he going to go back to hating me when he wakes up?"
"Doubt that Penfold, you're all he talks about- hell, it's why Eglantine sent us here, DM doesn't know that, but it is… you are. He loves you."
The younger vampire stared into the face of the unconscious young man and ran his pale fingers through the dark hair, "Red sent you…," his voice filled with awe and hope, "…figures."
Xander felt fuzzy, but he was aware of two things without doubt. The most obvious was that he hurt, a lot. The second was that someone was next to him and that someone was holding his hand tightly. When he finally got his eyes to open and focus, he realized he was in a hospital room, and almost as quickly realized he must be dreaming. He had to be dreaming because the sapphire eyes studying him couldn't be real, anymore than the twinkle of love in them could be real. Real or not, it was a nice dream…
Spike's hand caressed Xander's face and his simple words were full of emotion. "Hey, pet. How'ya feeling?"
"Dreaming…," the mortal mumbled through dry lips.
"Xan?"
He touched the vampire's face, "Wish you were real. So much to tell you, so much…"
"Xander, 'm right here, luv." He squeezed the confused man's hand, then brought it to his lips for a kiss. "See. Real."
"No. Spike would never be nice to me, not the way things were between us, so you have to be a dream or a hallucination. And that was awfully coherent for dream logic- going back to sleep now."
The rich chuckle from the maybe-real-vampire surprised Xander more than the possibility that said vamp was real did.
Shaking his head Spike attempted to explain, "Anybody'd told me I'd miss your yammering, I would've happily skewered them. But they would've been right." Spike studied the large tanned hand being held and stroked by his pale one. "Missed a lot about you. Hells, Xan, I just missed you."
"Spike? If this isn't real, you can't hold anything that happens or is said against me, right?"
"S'pose not."
"Good." Xander carefully rolled up leaning on his elbow, his face millimetres away from Spike's. The young man laced his free hand in the vamp's platinum locks pulling the vampire's lips to his. *Hmm, soft, so soft. Never thought his lips would be so damn soft. He tastes exactly like I thought he would though- spicy sweet with a hint of coppery tang. Gods, I want this so bad; I wish it was real.* When he pulled back from the kiss, both men were panting and Spike's blue eyes were rimmed with gold.
He pressed his forehead to the mortal's, "What if it isn't a dream?"
"Then I hope to the gods I didn't imagine you kissing me back."
"I can guarantee it wasn't your imagination, pet. It was every bit as real as this," and he took his boy's mouth in a powerful and toe-curling kiss. Within moments, Spike had curled himself around Xander with the boy's dark head comfortably tucked in the crook between the vampire's shoulder and neck.
Xander wasn't sure how it had happened, not that he was complaining; he simply chalked it up to yet another point on the 'I Must Be Dreaming' list. As Xander drifted off to sleep, or where ever you drift off to when you're already dreaming, he found himself marvelling at the way the smaller man could make him feel so completely enveloped.
Several hours passed before Xander re-awoke. As familiar voices trickled to his ears, he subconsciously snuggled deeper into the cocoon-like embrace of his bed mate.
"You think he'll wake up sometime this year?"
"I'm sure he will. He's well outta the woods now. At this point, it's just exhaustion and, considerin' everything, probably more than a little shock that's keepin' him out."
"He's not that out."
"Angel?"
"He's waking up," the vamp offered by way of explanation.
"Hmph, with the way you lot 'ave been jabbering on 's a wonder he slept at all," Spike half snarled over his boy's head.
"Penfold, shush!"
Xander felt one of the hands around his back shift slightly and he knew Dean had just received a two fingered salute. He couldn't help it, he smiled into the chest his head was buried against.
"C'mon, pet, stop playin' 'possum an' show the gits you're alright. Sooner they get to poke and prode you, sooner they'll leave us be, yeah."
Xander raised his head to the smiling face of the not-so-dusty vamp he loved, "It wasn't a dream then."
"Told ya it wasn't."
***Chapter 4: Before I Sleep***
"You can't be serious," the dark vamp demanded.
"Not like you want me around here," the blonde countered.
"Spike."
"Angel?"
"So, you're going to go with them and then what? What happens when they have to travel during the day? And blood? You have to eat and it's not like Dogpatch is going to cater to the demon community."
"What do you want Peaches? Y'want me and Xan to stay here? With you and your's?"
"I just want to know you've thought this through."
"Look, I love Xander and I want to be with him, where ever he is. You know him Angel, he's not gonna stop fighting as long as he thinks he can make a difference. And frankly, I feel better about him doing this 'hunting' thing than working for you or the Council!"
"Spike…"
"No Angel, I'm going with him!" With that final statement, the younger vampire stormed out of his Sire's office, coattails flaring dramatically.
Angel sat back and smiled. He'd heard what he needed to hear. Now, to take care of his Childe.
Spike flopped down hard on the bed, "Remind me again why I can't rip his throat out."
"Because…," Xander pursed his lips and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, I got nothing. I guess he's toast," the dark human smiled as he crawled up to his vampire.
The vamp chuckled, holding his arm out to cradle the young man.
Xander wasted no time fitting himself against the blonde. Once he was settled, "So what'd Deadboy do this time?"
"Nothin' I shouldn't've expected. Always was a controlling bastard." Spike nuzzled against the boy's mop of dark curls.
"Well, Dean said he'd be ready to leave tomorrow night. Think you can keep from killing Broody for that long?"
In an overtly licentious tone, "Hmm, dunno pet- might could, if I had something to distract me."
Xander snickered, allowing his hand to wander intimately over his vampire's body, "Good thing distraction has always been one of my talents."
Warm fingers trailed over the vampire's chest, stopping to pluck at a pert nipple through the all too heavy cotton of his tee.
Spike quirked an eye at the beautiful man laying on his chest.
A wicked smiled beamed back at him for the barest instant before those tender lops closed over the cloth covered nubbin.
The vamp gasped, then hissed appreciatively as blunt teeth nipped playfully at his flesh.
Hands scrabbled at the blonde's shirt, exposing creamy porcelain skin, demanding to be tasted. The large work-calloused hands then eased up, under the dark cloth, stroking and fluttering as they went. "You know I could do this for days," the mortal rasped, "just touching you, feeling your skin. Hearing the noises you make, when you start breathing, those enticing little sounds when I find a particularly sensitive spot." Xander brushed a nail over one of those spots as he said the words. Smiling in satisfaction when the small cooing whimper escaped the vampire's lips. "Yeah, just like that."
Blue-gold eyes bore into his lone brown one, begging, demanding, needing more, yet too afraid to ask for fear of losing what he had.
Xander leaned forward, holding the vampire's gaze, stopping as their lips almost brushed and whispering so softly that, even to Spike, it was more like feeling the words against his lips than hearing them with his ears, "I want you, Spike. I want to be what you need. I want you to tell me, baby. Tell me what you want, what you need." Slowly, lovingly heated lips closed over cooler ones capturing them in a forceful passionate kiss.
Spike wrapped strong arms around his human, trapping his hands against the vampire's chest. Rolling them, he pinned his lover, his smaller but supernaturally stronger frame straddling him. "What I want," the words rumbled like stones shifting before a landslide, "is you." He ground against the man beneath him, "Is this." A long fingered hand followed the contours of Xander's face across his brow, from left to right, then down and over his cheek to luxurious kiss-swollen lips, "My beautiful, compassionate boy."
As Spike's gentle perusal swept back up his face, Xander quickly turned his head away from the sensual touch.
For a moment, Spike thought Xander was going to pull away from him as the hands still under his shirt slipped down, but he was pleasantly surprised when, instead of leaving, they clutched his slim hips tightly. Spike's body blanketed his lover's, his face nuzzling the young man's neck, as he purred into his ear, "Xander? What's wrong, luv?"
The young man shook his head, then turned quickly in an attempt to distract his vampire with a kiss. Xander thought his ploy had worked as their tongues danced against and around each other.
Spike on the other hand was using the situation to distract his boy. It didn't take a genius, preternatural sense, or having been around for a few extra decades to suss what had upset his lover. In a move so fluid and natural, it was doubtful Xander would have noticed even without the distraction, Spike placed his hand on the man's face- palm resting on cheekbone and ear, fingers laced into the hair on his scalp, allowing his thumb to caress the skin around Xander's missing eye. Spike continued petting the area as he slowly disengaged the kiss. He felt it the moment Xander's brain registered the unfamiliar touch causing his entire body to tense. "Why?" The vampire didn't stop petting his lover's face, piercing blue eyes filled with honesty, love, and admiration stared unwaveringly, "Hmm? You can't think that matters; makes me want you any less? It doesn't."
The boy tried to look away.
"Xander, it doesn't. You're beautiful, inside and out. And anyone who can't see that or thinks that this," he brushed the useless eyelid, "makes you any less is either a fool or a liar."
Xander barked a sad laugh, "Which does that make me?"
The vampire smirked, "Blind." Before the young man could react, Spike kissed him. "Must be, can't see your own beauty, and you want me. Only explanation I can think of."
"I'm not blind Spike, but I think that infamous Aurelius insanity is finding new ways to manifest."
Chuckling, "Nah, pet, I think I know from crazy," Spike shook his head, resuming his task of removing their clothing. In a flurry of movement their shirts disappeared and Spike stood looming over the man he loved, jeans riding low on his hips, top button undone offering the promise of more. With catlike movements and predatory grace, he stalked up their bed, stopping to mouth Xander's hardened flesh through layers of fabric.
The boy let out a pleasured moan, then an equally displeased whimper when the vampire's attentive mouth left. He needn't have worried, the vamp's hands quickly replaced his mouth, skilfully working his flesh as he unfastened and removed his lover's pants, followed by his own.
Spike lay his lean body over the larger man's, both men gasping as their erections lined up pressing together.
"What can I do, treasure? How can I make you see your beauty? How special and perfect you are?" The vamp peppered the young man's face with kisses, not overlooking a single inch of skin. "You are, Xander. Perfect. Beautiful. You deserve to be cherished."
"Spike," his voice raspy and small, full of disbelief and the faintest trace of hope.
"Yes, my sweet," the vamp's tender kisses continued unabated.
"Don't," he pleaded.
"Don't what? Leave? Not a chance. Stop? Doubt I could, not with this," he ran his hand down Xander's tanned and muscled body, "tempting me. No, stopping 'as to be the last thing on my mind." The blonde vampire began kissing Xander's taut, inviting neck, trailing kisses and nips down his chest. "I was think something more along the lines of," he sucked a dusky nipple into his mouth causing his lover to moan. After a moment he released the puckered flesh and continued, "a complete, total, and thorough exploration." Spike playfully bit the other nipple, then lavished attention on it.
Before long, his boy was writhing beneath him, words tumbling from his mouth begging for something, but never quite able to convey what.
With his lover virtually incoherent from pleasure, Spike retrieved the bottle of lube from the nightstand. Pouring the viscous substance on his hand, he began to prepare this lovely, beautiful, amazingly sexy human.
Spike lightly ran a finger over and around Xander's entrance, teasing the opening as it fluttered at his touch. Slowly, his finger breached the tight muscle and Spike relished the feel and flex of his love's inner muscles. "My gods, Xander, do you have any idea how gorgeous this is, you are?" The vamp easily eased a second finger into his boy. "All open for me, accepting, wanting. Nothing short of amazing, you are." Spike spent a few moments mesmerized by the sight of his Xander impaled on his fingers. "Xander, I love you, with everything I have," as the vampire spoke he slipped a third digit into the boy, fighting the urge to cum and claim as he watched and felt his mate's response.
Mate. That was a sobering thought, but an incredibly appealing one. Spike could happily imagine Xander as his Mate and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. But not tonight and not like this. His Xander deserved more. He deserved candles and firelight, soft music, and softer bed. He deserved anything and everything Spike could give him, and he'd have it.
A wanton, needy moan secured Spike's attention back on his boy and the here and now.
"Spike, please? In me… …please."
"Do you believe me Xan? Can you see it? Your beauty, your desirability, your allure?"
Xander was speechless, watching the vamp- his vamp- prepare to enter him. Every move and muscle of the blonde's form emanated love and longing. Seeing such emotion pouring from the perfect, sculpted creature, he could almost believe.
Amber rimmed eyes captured the young man's gaze, "Need you so badly, Xander." He lined himself up with his mate's slicked waiting entrance. "Want you even more," the vampire panted as he slowly slid into Xander's body. "Oooooooh gods, Xander. MY Xander," his voice shook with the raw power of being inside his love. His flesh was burning and he was loving every second of it. Fiery heat surrounding and engulfing him, warming his supernaturally sensitive flesh to explosive levels.
Reaching for his vampire, Xander inadvertently canted his hips, pressing the head of Spike's shaft firmly into his prostate. He stifled a moan and clung to the strong form of his lover.
Swallowing hard, attempting to keep the sensations and emotions reigned in, "Xan, sweetheart, want you to look at me."
The mortal didn't seem inclined to listen.
"Love, want me to move, yeah? Wanta feel me inside you, sliding in and out, rubbin' that sweet spot- just there," the blonde shifted ever so slightly demonstrating his point.
Xander's body virtually sang with pleasurable tension and a faint, even to vampire hearing, "Yes," fell from his lips.
"Then look at me."
This time, Xander did as Spike asked, pulling back and propping himself on his elbows.
"That's better." The vampire's smile radiated love, "Now tell me what you see."
Xander's brow furrowed.
"Go on, luv, describe me."
"Spike?"
The vamp merely nodded encouragingly.
"Oo-k-ay. Beautiful, pale porcelain skin." A hand unconsciously began to wander accompanying his words, "Abs a model would kill for. Strong sculpted arms- smooth and elegant. Same with your hands," Xander brought said appendage to his mouth to kiss. "You have the face of an angel, so defined, so expressive- human or demon. And those eyes they tell anyone who cares to look everything about you. Gods, Spike, you truly are perfect."
Spike pressed his forehead to Xander's, rubbing noses in the 'Eskimo kiss' equivalent of a tonsillectomy. "You flatter me, pet."
"Spi…"
"Shh," he gave his lover a quick kiss to ensure his silence. "That's what you see?"
A nod.
"Then answer me this, luv- would someone like you described settle?"
Xander's eye widened.
"Would they be with someone they didn't want? Would they love someone they thought for a moment was undeserving?"
Xander stared as with every word he believed a hair's breath more and his walls of disbelief and denial slowly began to fracture.
Spike pulled out until only the tip of his shaft remained inside his boy. "No, he wouldn't." The vamp eased himself back deep inside his human. "He'd want someone to match and compliment him." Pulling back out, "Someone beautiful," and in- the beginning of a steady rhythm. "Strong- body and spirit. Loving. Loyal." The vampire's thrusts matching his speech as he hit Xander's prostate in time, punctuating his words and sending ever more sensual spark's through the man's body. "Lips that beg to be kissed. Arms that comfort and protect. A body that demands to be touched and worshipped."
Both men's bodies vibrated with ecstasy, so close but neither ready to let go.
A few more thrusts and Spike stilled, their bodies flush where they were joined. "Xander," he purred, "believe me?"
He wanted to believe, he truly did, but…
Then a cool hand wrapped around his dribbling erection stroking languidly, "Please, love, please believe- believe in me."
Spike began slowly thrusting as he worked his love's cock. "You're so beautiful Xander- believe that or at the least know that I believe that. Know you're wanted and needed. And know you're mine as much as I'm yours."
Xander gasped at his lover's words- Spike was Xander's!?! This beautiful, amazing, powerful creature was his!?!
The vampire couldn't help but notice his love's reaction. "I'm yours Xander, yours and yours alone."
"Spiiike," Xander keened, once again reaching for his beloved vampire.
Spike willingly and hungrily moved closer to the man he adored, lacing his free hand through the dark curls at the back of his boy's head. He felt a deliciously warm hand grip his arm. It's mate clutching Spike's head and pulling him in for a heated and welcomed kiss.
If his Xander couldn't believe his words, he hoped he'd believe what he felt. With that in mind, the vampire unleashed all the emotions and sensations and love he felt for and because of this sweet wonderful man and poured it into their kiss. There was love, of course, the sadness of feeling lost to those he cared for most, fear of never belonging, hope seen in a dark caring human eye, warmth in a remembered smile, jealousy sparked by another's scent, anger that he couldn't infallibly protect his love, overwhelming joy at being wanted, and even greater wonder at being accepted. All that and more flowed through the blonde vamp, through his cool lips and his talented tongue as he silently prayed to whatever entity watched over lovestruck demons to let his precious Xander understand.
Breathless and precariously on the verge of release, Xander forced words out of his body, "Wow, Spike I… had no idea." Then finally uttering the words Spike had been striving, almost desperate to hear, "I understand. I know. I believe."
Spike's cock twitched within the heavenly confines of Xander's body. Two long, deep strokes and a moan of ecstasy from his boy later and Spike was emptying his cool seed deep within the man he loved.
As the cool fluid washed inside him, Xander bucked into his lover, calling Spike's name as his own orgasm ripped through him.
***Epilogue***
The two men had just stepped out of the shower when a staccato rapping came at the door.
"Just a minute," Xander called, too busy towel drying his hair to notice his lover glaring and growling at the door.
As Xander moved to answer it, Spike's hand shot out and he hissed through clenched teeth, "'s Peaches."
The mortal turned, staring into Spike's amber eyes, and kissed him soundly and full of unadulterated, brutal passion. "Well, let's see what gramps wants then." Xander moved back towards the door, "And Spike…"
Hungry blue-gold eyes shot to the human's face.
"…put some clothes on."
Both sets of eyes travelled down Spike's bare body.
Spike smirked.
Xander licked his lips and gulped, "Please."
Shaking his head, the vamp snatched his pants from the chair and slipped them on while his lover opened the door.
"Hey Angel. What's up?"
"I was hoping I could have a word with Spike," he said peering at the half clad vampire on the bed.
Moving from the door, Xander gestured the vamp in.
"You're sure about this? This is what you want?" The elder vamp asked without preamble as he sat across from his blonde Childe.
"Bloody hells Angel, how many times do I have to say it- I'm STAYING with XANDER!"
Angel hung his head, "I thought as much." Then, in a move that surprised both original occupants of the room the vampire smiled, "I had some work done on the Impala. Dean's picking her up as we speak."
"Peaches?" Spike couldn't believe the implications.
Seeming to suddenly become very uncomfortable, the dark vamp stood, "You ever need anything- either of you-" he swept his gaze to assure both mortal and vamp understood, "call me." And as quickly as that, Angel was gone.
Both men stared at the door, stunned.
"Did he just?"
"Yeah pet, he did."
"And the car?"
"Guess we won't 'ave t' worry about me going all combustible," the blonde smirked and reached out, pulling his wonderfully warm, loving human to him.
All too soon, Dean arrived, anxious to get on the road. "You guys ready?" He asked the disentangling couple, "Or should I go and give you time for a quickie?"
"No, no, we're good, ready," Xander insisted as he grabbed up his duffle and headed for the car.
Spike threw on his shirt, boots, and duster, snatched up his own bag and followed the two humans outside. "Ready and willing, mate. Ready and willing," he chuckled, closing the door behind him.