Disclaimer and other info in part 1.
Part 2
Xander groaned. His neck was stiff and when he tried to pop it, it was only made worse. When he opened his eyes, platinum hair and a smirk greeted him.
"Hey Fangless. What happened?" Xander tried sitting up, but when a wave of nausea hit, he quickly lay back, tightly closing his eyes.
Xander was reminded of when he had had those fatal diseases one Thanksgiving. He had since taken vitamins regularly and had not gotten so much as a cold. The last time he had even been nauseated was when last years migration of Trakkas had arrived, causing an acrid taste, and even worse smell to permeate the town's water supply for over a month. He had not been the only one to experience stomach problems then.
Again opening his eyes, Xander saw Spike with a slight worried frown looking down at him. "What is it? I'm not dying am I?" Xander was suddenly afraid.
When Xander felt the back of Spike's cool fingers on his forehead, his eyes widened. Wondering what Spike was up to, and frantically hoping that *that* was up too, his eyes quickly shut again. He knew his heart beat had sped up, and Spike probably had heard it. Xander, however, almost did not hear when Spike started speaking.
"I'm checking you for a fever. God knows you're prone to such things." Looking satisfied there was no fever, Spike spoke, "Well, the intertwining enchantments usually disorient humans. Can't say I've seen one pass out though. But since it's you, Harris, I should have known something like this would happen. God! I am not bloody calling that Pete's again."
Xander fought the snicker that threatened to emerge at exactly what had caused him to faint. Sighing, Xander managed to sit up. With only a little dizziness, he spoke, "Great, Spike. I'm so glad you didn't think to warn me of the possibility of me passing out when walking around your apartment." Xander stood and stretched. "Man, I feel hung over." He looked at his watch. It read after nine.
"Oh great. I was supposed to return the truck by seven, and then get much needed sleep. Well, the sleep part actually doesn't apply now that I've been unconscious for several hours." Xander snorted.
Spike looked him over. "Well, uh, you could always stay here if you need to."
Xander blinked rapidly. "What?"
Spike pursed his lips. "Seeing as how you could see for yourself the way the bugs march and all in the morning. You know, uh, rather than prowling around on hands and knees all night searching them out. And I really don't need an unconscious human in my way, unless he was food. And seeing as how you're not food, but a bug man, then...."
Spike's rambling was cut off by Xander's too loud, "Okay."
Spike frowned, and then raised his eyebrows in a What-the-hell gesture. Snorting, Spike went to the refrigerator and retrieved a packet of blood.
While Spike puttered around the small kitchen, Xander was inwardly doing a happy dance. He had wanted to sleep with Spike, correction, over with Spike, since they had lived together in Xander's old basement for a short time. Add that to the fact that he had stopped listening after "on hands and knees all night" and he was indeed more than okay with the situation.
While Spike was making his meal, Xander wrinkled his nose and went toward the nearby sofa. Hoping it would not move, he gently sat down. Relief flowing through him at the couch's continued stillness, Xander lay his head against the soft cushions of the back.
Xander's stomach chose that moment to grumble and rumble. Xander scratched his head. He knew that Spike would not have any food, and he definitely did not want to go out.
"Hey, Spike," Xander called out. "I need food. Any good delivery places around here?"
Spike made his way over to the armchair next to the couch. Taking a gulp, he said, "Well, there is a pizza place. You've got your own cash to pay for it don't you?" Gulp, slurp.
Xander made an ick face, and replied, "Yeah, I got money." He paused, realizing that Spike had covertly offered to pay for food. Xander's draw dropped. "Did you just offer to pay for my dinner?"
Spike's eyes widened, and he coughed. "Course I didn't. What makes you think that?" His eyes everywhere but Xander.
"You did! Man, is that priceless or what. The Big Bad himself almost paying for a slayerette's sustenance. You know you'll never live this down, right?" Xander smirked and crossed his arms in a childish gesture.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Whatever. The phone is over there by the counter."
Xander shuddered. He did not want to go near that counter if it could be helped. "Uh, Spike? Is there any way the phone can be not over there? And somewhere closer to over here?"
Spike grinned wickedly. "Well, whelp, I think that could be arranged. But only if you apologize. I am heartily, or not so heartily as much deathly, offended at your insinuations." And with a flourish, Spike tilted his mug and drank what was left. He then stood up, and proceeded to the kitchen. After dropping his mug in the sink, he stood next to the phone. He picked up the receiver, but did not dial. He instead began pretending to give food orders of all kinds.
Xander groaned. With mentions of pizza with extra cheese, extra fortune cookies, extra french fries, et cetera, filling his mind with images and his stomach with twists, Xander knew this was going to be a long night.
Part 2
Xander groaned. His neck was stiff and when he tried to pop it, it was only made worse. When he opened his eyes, platinum hair and a smirk greeted him.
"Hey Fangless. What happened?" Xander tried sitting up, but when a wave of nausea hit, he quickly lay back, tightly closing his eyes.
Xander was reminded of when he had had those fatal diseases one Thanksgiving. He had since taken vitamins regularly and had not gotten so much as a cold. The last time he had even been nauseated was when last years migration of Trakkas had arrived, causing an acrid taste, and even worse smell to permeate the town's water supply for over a month. He had not been the only one to experience stomach problems then.
Again opening his eyes, Xander saw Spike with a slight worried frown looking down at him. "What is it? I'm not dying am I?" Xander was suddenly afraid.
When Xander felt the back of Spike's cool fingers on his forehead, his eyes widened. Wondering what Spike was up to, and frantically hoping that *that* was up too, his eyes quickly shut again. He knew his heart beat had sped up, and Spike probably had heard it. Xander, however, almost did not hear when Spike started speaking.
"I'm checking you for a fever. God knows you're prone to such things." Looking satisfied there was no fever, Spike spoke, "Well, the intertwining enchantments usually disorient humans. Can't say I've seen one pass out though. But since it's you, Harris, I should have known something like this would happen. God! I am not bloody calling that Pete's again."
Xander fought the snicker that threatened to emerge at exactly what had caused him to faint. Sighing, Xander managed to sit up. With only a little dizziness, he spoke, "Great, Spike. I'm so glad you didn't think to warn me of the possibility of me passing out when walking around your apartment." Xander stood and stretched. "Man, I feel hung over." He looked at his watch. It read after nine.
"Oh great. I was supposed to return the truck by seven, and then get much needed sleep. Well, the sleep part actually doesn't apply now that I've been unconscious for several hours." Xander snorted.
Spike looked him over. "Well, uh, you could always stay here if you need to."
Xander blinked rapidly. "What?"
Spike pursed his lips. "Seeing as how you could see for yourself the way the bugs march and all in the morning. You know, uh, rather than prowling around on hands and knees all night searching them out. And I really don't need an unconscious human in my way, unless he was food. And seeing as how you're not food, but a bug man, then...."
Spike's rambling was cut off by Xander's too loud, "Okay."
Spike frowned, and then raised his eyebrows in a What-the-hell gesture. Snorting, Spike went to the refrigerator and retrieved a packet of blood.
While Spike puttered around the small kitchen, Xander was inwardly doing a happy dance. He had wanted to sleep with Spike, correction, over with Spike, since they had lived together in Xander's old basement for a short time. Add that to the fact that he had stopped listening after "on hands and knees all night" and he was indeed more than okay with the situation.
While Spike was making his meal, Xander wrinkled his nose and went toward the nearby sofa. Hoping it would not move, he gently sat down. Relief flowing through him at the couch's continued stillness, Xander lay his head against the soft cushions of the back.
Xander's stomach chose that moment to grumble and rumble. Xander scratched his head. He knew that Spike would not have any food, and he definitely did not want to go out.
"Hey, Spike," Xander called out. "I need food. Any good delivery places around here?"
Spike made his way over to the armchair next to the couch. Taking a gulp, he said, "Well, there is a pizza place. You've got your own cash to pay for it don't you?" Gulp, slurp.
Xander made an ick face, and replied, "Yeah, I got money." He paused, realizing that Spike had covertly offered to pay for food. Xander's draw dropped. "Did you just offer to pay for my dinner?"
Spike's eyes widened, and he coughed. "Course I didn't. What makes you think that?" His eyes everywhere but Xander.
"You did! Man, is that priceless or what. The Big Bad himself almost paying for a slayerette's sustenance. You know you'll never live this down, right?" Xander smirked and crossed his arms in a childish gesture.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Whatever. The phone is over there by the counter."
Xander shuddered. He did not want to go near that counter if it could be helped. "Uh, Spike? Is there any way the phone can be not over there? And somewhere closer to over here?"
Spike grinned wickedly. "Well, whelp, I think that could be arranged. But only if you apologize. I am heartily, or not so heartily as much deathly, offended at your insinuations." And with a flourish, Spike tilted his mug and drank what was left. He then stood up, and proceeded to the kitchen. After dropping his mug in the sink, he stood next to the phone. He picked up the receiver, but did not dial. He instead began pretending to give food orders of all kinds.
Xander groaned. With mentions of pizza with extra cheese, extra fortune cookies, extra french fries, et cetera, filling his mind with images and his stomach with twists, Xander knew this was going to be a long night.
