One fine evening in Sunnydale:
Spike made his way through the deserted graveyard. As he neared his crypt, he paused. Something wasn't right, he thought. The very air felt different somehow. Tired, he shrugged off the vague feeling of unease. Upon reaching his destination, he stopped dead in his tracks, startled to see Xander, clad in a frilly pink apron, standing in the doorway to his home.
"What the devil are you doing here?" Spike said.
"You're late," Xander snapped. "I've been waiting up for you, worried sick, and all you can say is 'what the devil are you doing here?"
Spike stared at Xander in astonishment. "Who are you and what have you done with Xander?" he demanded.
"Spikey Wikey, don't be like that," Xander pleaded as tears ran down his face, soaking his pink apron.
"Bloody hell," Spike said. "Harris, I'm leaving. When I come back, I expect to find you gone." He made his way to Willie's to drown his horror.
Several hours later Spike stumbled into Giles's apartment. It was unbelievable, everywhere he went, from Willie's to the Bronze, it was the same; every man in the place showed interest.
After telling Giles his tale of woe, he concluded, "It's a spell. It has to be. You're the only one in Sunnydale whose remained unaffected."
Giles took a step closer to Spike. "I've never noticed it before, but you have the most beautiful eyes. Spike, did I ever tell you about my experiences in my all-male boarding school?" Giles said, running his hand through Spike's hair.
"Oh no, not you as well, Giles," Spike moaned. "Bloody hell." Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Spike fled. Once out of Giles's sight, he headed towards the Magic Shop, hoping to find Willow. Spotting Buffy seated at a table, he approached her slowly, alert for any sign that she was acting oddly. Finding none, he sat down next to her. "Slayer, thank god you're still normal," Spike said.
Buffy smiled happily at him. "Spike, I just wanted to tell you that I'm so happy for you and Xander," she said brightly. "I should have known you were gay. It's so obvious now that I think about it."
"Bollocks!" Spike yelled. "I'm not a bleeding poofter."
"It's okay, Spike, you don't have to pretend with me," Buffy said, sighing. "I think you and Xander are perfect for each other. Except for the part about you being a bloodsucking fiend and all." She grew serious. "If you hurt him in any way, I promise I'll torture you worse than Angelus ever did."
At that moment, Giles entered the shop. "What's this about you and Harris? Spike, darling, how could you do this to me?" Giles demanded, tears in his eyes. "What about us?"
Buffy scowled. Turning to Spike, she said, "You're cheating on Xander with Giles? Ew. No offense Giles."
"None taken, Buffy," Giles said. "I must say, I'm heartbroken over this turn of events."
The door opened, Xander entered. "There you are honeybuns. I've been looking all over for you," he said. Giles began to weep softly.
Spike had had enough. "Harris, you stupid git, I'm not interested in you. I will never be interested in you. If you were the last man on earth, I still wouldn't be interested in you," he yelled. Heartbroken, Xander sobbed.
Buffy glared at Spike. "I told you what would happen if you hurt my friend," Buffy said ominously as she reached for a stake.
Spike ran for his life, or rather, unlife. Reaching the relative safety of his favorite graveyard, he leapt nimbly over a mausoleum, and promptly collided with a large, leather-clad object.
"Ouch. You messed up my hair," the visitor said.
"Watch where you're going," Spike snapped. "Wait a minute, Peaches, is that you?"
"Yeah it's me, so what. Can't a man get a little piece and quiet around here," Angel complained.
"What are you doing here?" Spike asked.
"I'm taking a vacation," Angel said.
"In a cemetery?" Spike said.
"Well I am a vampire," Angel snapped. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be watching a Knight Rider marathon or something?"
The two vampires circled each other warily for a time.
Angel was the first to break the stalemate. "You haven't suddenly become attracted to me, have you?" Angel said, a note of strain in his voice.
"Attracted to you!" Spike cried. "Don't flatter yourself, you big pouf."
Angel wasn't sure whether to be insulted or relieved. "Hey, it's just gotten a little crazy the last few days. That's why I thought I'd leave LA for a while."
"Crazy? How?" Spike said.
"Let's just say that if I wanted to, I could be having a gay old time," Angel said.
"Oh," said Spike. "I take it your blokes have been affected by the same mysterious force."
"Same force? Should I even ask?" Angel said.
"Suffice to say, you might want to avoid the Watcher's abode, and what ever you do, stay away from the whelp," Spike said. "Don't even think about visiting the Bronze."
Angel looked at Spike, taking in his disheveled appearance. He hadn't seen Spike's hair so untidy since Saint Petersburg.
"So, grandsire, how bad is it in sunny Las Angeles?" Spike asked. "The boys giving you a hard time at work?"
"Very funny, Spike," Angel said. "Yeah, it's been real fun fighting off both of them at once. The girls are even worse. Fred told me that she'd been hoping that Gunn and I would get back together, Lilah offered to work on changing the marriage laws in California, and Cordelia, of all people, offered to throw a coming out party for Wes and me."
Spike snorted.
"Something weird is going on here," Angel said.
"Ooh, do you think so?" Spike sneered. "My aren't you the regular Sherlock Holmes."
"Enough with the sarcasm, Willieboy, we've got to get to the bottom of this, and fast," Angel said.
"Bloody hell, I've no idea why this is happening. All I know it that suddenly, every bloke in Sunnydale wants to be 'Spiked'," he said.
"Thanks for the mental image," Angel said sourly.
The two vampires retreated to a nearby mausoleum and wracked their brains. Finally, inspiration struck. "I've got a theory," Angel said. "It's a demon, a vengeance demon, no, something isn't right there. Why would a vengeance demon target us?" He gave Spike a suspicious look and said, "You haven't ticked off any vengeance demons lately, have you?"
"No, no, absolutely not, no not me," Spike said unconvincingly. Anya! he thought, it must be her. This has her fingerprints all over it.
As if she'd been summoned, Anya materialized in front of them.
"Speak of the devil," Spike said. "Angel, meet Anya. She's the little lady behind our recent boy-troubles. Just tell me luv, who sicced you on me? Was it the Slayer? Glinda? Red? It wasn't Joyce, was it?"
"Nah, none of them," Anya said.
"Then who?" Spike said.
"Harmony, who else would be so pissed off at you, Blondie Bear" Anya said. "You gotta admit, I came up with a good one this time."
"Why Angel?" Spike asked. "Harm barely knew him."
Anya smirked. "He was a last minute job. I zapped him with the same spell to save time."
"But who?" Angel said, perplexed.
"Some gal named Kate Lockley wanted revenge," Anya said, shrugging. "Something about not calling her in years. Who knows why, I just go where I'm told."
"You can reverse this, can't you?" Spike said pleadingly.
"Sorry, no can do," Anya said. "It's been nice chatting, but I've gotta go. There's a jilted bride in Cleveland who needs my services. Say hi to Xander for me."
Angel and Spike stared at each other.
"What do we do now, Peaches?" Spike said.
Angel considered his options. "I know a nice little dimension called Pylea," he said. "There's an empty cave up in the hills we can live in, used to belong to a friend of mine. We'll open up a portal tomorrow night."
"Great," Spike said. "Just what I've always wanted, spending eternity living in some damp, wretched hole with Mr. Nancy-boy Gel-hair."
The End.