Last time in "Through the Looking Glass": Xander and Spike kissed, resulting in a bit of a crisis of conscience. So Xander decided that the whole vampire thing needed to be brought out in the open ... via taking Spike to a cemetery and nearly getting eaten and having to be saved by Spike's vamp-killing instincts. Then he told Spike about the whole "you were a vampire" bit. And then I abruptly and cruelly ended the chapter on that revelation.

-o-o-o-

This time, Spike didn't come home for a week. This storming out and not coming back was getting a little old, but Xander couldn't really feel too offended when it kept being things he'd done that pissed Spike off and drove him away.

And Xander was worried enough to consider stopping by the Boy Toy or - less embarrassing - the library, just to make sure Spike wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere, but the previous conversations about stalking kept him from doing it.

Eventually, Spike just turned up again, acting as if nothing had happened ... except for the silent treatment he was giving Xander. Now when they passed in the hall, Spike's lips tightened and he averted his eyes, moving past as quickly as possible. There wasn't any television together, or talking over dinner, or anything else that remotely resembled friendship. Spike was gone a lot, and when he was home he stayed in his room. It was just like last time, except worse.

And so one morning Xander was tightening his tie, getting ready to head in to work for a meeting with Gary to prepare for the afternoon's meeting with the Senior Vice-President of Overaa, when he saw Spike sitting on the couch. In the dark.

This was weird.

"So you think you can just lie to me about everything?" Spike asked without turning his head. The dam was finally breaking, the silent treatment coming to an end. But Xander really couldn't be late to this meeting. Damn!

"Spike, while I appreciate this effort to initiate a discussion about how much of a prick I am, I really don't have time right now. I have to get to work."

Spike turned to look at him, though his eyes were shadowed in the darkness of the living room. The light from the hall didn't reach that far, stretching in long shadows as if trying to touch Spike, unsuccessfully.

"Well, then, just explain why you lied and then be on your merry way." Spike was still watching him out of the darkness.

Xander ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He stayed standing in the brightly lit hallway, not sure if Spike would bolt if approached, and said, "I didn't think you'd believe..."

But Spike obviously wasn't listening, despite his demand, because he interrupted, "Did you really think I'd buy that? And why did you drag me all the way out to that cemetery, anyway?"

Xander was frowning now, confused. He loosened his tie. "I thought ... you needed to see ... so you'd understand ... so you'd believe ... And when that fledge..."

Spike interrupted again, "Fledge?"

Xander glanced hopelessly at the front door, then back at Spike. "Yeah. A young vampire. One that hasn't been vamped very long." It was like Vampire 101 For Amnesiacs.

"And was I a 'fledge'?" Spike asked, apparently not noticing that he wasn't arguing the point anymore.

Xander blinked, and then walked into the living room and tentatively sat on the edge of his favorite chair. Gary was going to have to wait, even if he was the boss. He'd understand. Or something. Not about fledges, but about lateness. Xander was always on time, and everyone was late once in a while. Right?

He took a deep breath.

"No. You weren't a fledge, Spike."

"So how old was - am - I, then? Supposedly."

"I'm not sure. The books, I guess, said you were vamped in the 1800s."

Spike's eyebrows went up. Xander's eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, and he could see Spike's obvious disbelief and denial. "Books? You're trying to say there are books about me?"

"Well, not entirely about you, but about some of the older vamps."

"So I was supposedly one of these 'older' vampires?"

"I guess so. There were - are - lots older, though."

Spike's head tilted in annoyance. "Well, let's see one of these books, then."

Xander scratched his head nervously. "Um ... I don't have any. Giles has..."

"'Giles'? The school librarian?"

"Well, yeah..." Xander suddenly realized how absurd this all sounded. Was there any chance Spike was going to believe any of it? Maybe he really remembered something, bashing around in that blonde head? Maybe he would just magically decide that Xander was telling the truth, and they could dispense with the torturous grilling?

Spike's voice was nearly dripping with disbelief as he said, "So the school librarian believes in vampires."

"Yeah. We all do. The Scoobies, I mean. Vampires killed my best friend. The 'neighborhood watch' group ... we were fighting vampires."

"And I was fighting vampires, too. Despite being a vampire."

"Yeah. I mean, not at first. You were a pretty scary-ass vamp when we first met you - you were trying to kill Buffy - but at the end there, yeah, you were fighting the good fight. And then you got your soul..." Xander trailed off, knowing he was giving too much information and just making things sound even more like some kind of monster movie or tv show.

Spike was silent a long time, but then he said, "For argument's sake, let's say you're right. And I'm not saying that, not by a long shot, because I think you've gone completely crackers. But let's just say you're right. Let's say I was a vampire." He paused, and then continued in obvious confusion, "Then why am I not a vampire now?"

Xander watched Spike's face in the dim light. He looked lost. "I don't know," Xander admitted apologetically, wishing he had some kind of answer to give. "I'm sorry, Spike, but I just don't know."

Maybe Giles would have some answers. Maybe it was time to call him.

But somehow Xander couldn't make himself do it.

-o-o-o-

They didn't talk about the subject again, and the tension between them was palpable. The apartment was chock full of awkwardness and silence for a few weeks. But there's only so long that can continue when you're living in close quarters, and eventually they started to relax around each other again, doing small things like going out for a beer or simply watching "Charmed," which was one of their favorite ridiculously mockable shows. Second only to "Passions," in Spike's unspoken opinion.

Xander, of course, never commented on the fact that one of the reasons the show was ridiculous was because he happened to know that magic didn't work that way. He didn't think Spike was in a mood to hear about the fact that the nerdy computer whiz also happened to be a powerful witch. The high school librarian being a vampire expert had been quite enough, he figured.

Plus, he didn't want to bring the whole subject up again and send Spike storming out of the house for days on end.

Sometimes Spike even read his books - he was reading something gigantic in Russian right now - sitting on the couch in the living room, which Xander found somehow extremely cozy. He didn't pull out his comic books, because reading Shazam! next to Spike's Russian novels just felt embarrassing, but he still liked it, as if Spike was really making himself at home. It felt good.

They watched movie marathons every weekend with Frank and Luba ... and sometimes Xander pretended to himself that it was a double-date. He knew he was in trouble, that he was obsessed and that Spike most likely didn't feel the same way, especially now, but he liked how Spike filled a void in his life. It had been so long since he'd really cared about someone ... he'd forgotten what it was like.

This particular movie marathon was on the theme of werewolves, and Xander was once again forcefully holding his tongue - almost literally, once or twice - lest he make a fool of himself and cause awkwardness with Spike. Of course, he hadn't told Spike about Oz, but still. All "monsters" seemed like taboo.

Luba was popping Jiffy Pop over the stove - she was "an old-fashioned girl," she explained - while Frank was composing a plate of steamed dumplings, when Luba yelled from the kitchen, "So, how're the housemates? You guys have been living together for a few months now. How's it working out? You seem happy."

Spike and Xander exchanged a look and then both inexplicably burst out laughing. Trying to explain how complicated everything had been - and continued to be - was ludicrous to both of them.

"We're fine," Spike yelled back, making Xander look at him in curious surprise. "The flat is quite comfortable."

Luba came in with the popcorn in a big bowl and smiled. "That's good to know. I hope you get along with your landlords." She grinned.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Oh, they're so annoying! Always feeding us and showing us movies. Can't get rid of 'em!"

At that point, Frank entered the room and Xander exclaimed excitedly, "Oooh! Barbecue pork buns!", making Spike and Luba laugh.

They all sat together on Frank and Luba's large couch to start with An American Werewolf in London, and Xander noticed that his thigh was pressed up against Spike's. He didn't know if Spike noticed, but it was very distracting.

He didn't know how to recapture the easy camaraderie that they'd had before the vampire incident, but he wanted it. Badly.

He was going to have to figure out something or go insane.

To be continued ...