DISCLAIMER: So, Buffy is over and I am in mourning. "Joss," I said. "Joss, is there a reason you didn't explain that whole thing in season 7?" and he's all, "What thing? This thing or that thing? Or that other thing over there?" and I'm all, "THAT thing. Duh." And he shrugs and says, "Joyce was just fucking with Dawn's mind. Ghosts get bored every now and again. Ok? Can we drop it now?" So I smacked him in the head and went grocery shopping. AND I didn't buy him those tasty fudgey brownies he likes so much. HA!

THANKS: Well, first off, thanks to the true geniuses behind this work. I'm talking about the brains behind the operation, Dr. Dawn and Sisabet. They have this entire thing in their head and they tell me what to put down. Really, I am but a glorified typer here. Damn them and their clever ways! Secondly, thanks for nothing, Joss. Stupid all ending our show...*grumble grumble* Thirdly, thanks for reading! And last, but not in the least bit least, a big thanks to Devil Piglet for being our beta. Thanks DP, you sassy young thing, you!

LAST TIME ON THE ODD COUPLE, HELLMOUTH STYLE: Spike's clothes were dirty so he put on an old pair of leather pants. Damn straight! Whoo! Xander mocked him and his ass. Spike declared he could bounce pennies of his ass. Xander grew listless and took Spike out for dinner. Spike likes deep-fried ice cream and tequila. Xander drank. Spike drank. The two wore sombreros. They drank some more. After they left the restaurant Xander lost his dinner in the bushes and decided that he didn't like tequila or his girl-drink-drunk drink. But he did decide that Spike smelled good. Xander got pretty woozy and Spike tried to drunkenly carry him home. Cause, the two of them drank. Lots. And so we continue!

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"You're a souuul maaaaaannn....duh duh duh duh duh duh....sooooooooouuuuuuuuul maaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnn...you're a-"

"Stop singing." Spike fumbled down the hall, bumping into the walls as he walked. Harris was not being very helpful, moving about and singing off-key as he tried to cart him to the apartment. And that stupid song was driving him crazy...crazier. "I hate that song."

Xander snorted, mouth pressed against his back. "Ok. Whatever you want. Ha ha! You have a soul!"

Spike twisted around, hands patting blindly.

"Hey!" Xander wriggled as Spike's hands roamed. "What...stop it..." he giggled and pushed vainly. "Cut it out, that tickles! HEY!" Spike's hand was in a rather intimate spot.

"I need the keys." Spike jangled them in triumph.

"Oh," Xander said, feeling a little disappointed. "I mean. Ah. I see."

Unlocking the door proved to be rather difficult, what with the squirming, laughing Xander flung over his shoulder and the fact that the keyhole kept jumping about every time he got the key near it. Spike squinted, tongue half out, concentrating. Come on, dammit! The key seemed huge compared to the lock. Xander shifted again and he nearly dropped it. Maybe that last bottle of tequila was a mistake.

"Whatz the holdup?" Xander tried to push himself up, hands on Spike's ass as a lever. "Whatz goin' on? Oh! Hey! I know this place."

Spike sighed and jammed blindly at the handle, trying to ignore the fact that Xander's hands were not so much pushing against him but more squeezing experimentally. "Dammit Harris, can't you wait till we get inside?"

"Inside? Wait?" Xander let go, completely forgetting that he'd even touched. Yes, forgetting. He didn't want to touch Spike. Or boys. Or Spike. Nope. "Open the door! Why are we in the hall still?"

Eyes narrow, Spike peered over at Xander. "Because balancing you and trying to get the door open is so much fun that I never want it to end."

Apparently looking away was the secret, because suddenly the key slid in and the door was open. Thank God for small favors. Spike stumbled inside, making his way to the couch and only breaking two lamps on the way.

"Here we are," he said loudly, leaning over. Xander slid, grabbing at his shirt as he went, sending Spike down with him. "Hey!"

They landed in a heap, tangled. "This is my couch," Xander said fuzzily, pleased. "I like my couch. It's couch-erific!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the couch is great."

"The Soulinator thinks my couch is great! Go me!" Xander sat up, suddenly serious. "Do you know what you are?" he asked quietly, looking straight into Spike's eyes.

Spike swallowed, heart in throat. He didn't want Xander to say it. He knew what he was. "What?" he asked softly, face blank.

Xander peered at him gravely. "You're...Angel-lite. With half the fat!" He laughed hysterically, ignoring Spike's annoyed expression, face suddenly falling into Spike's lap.

Silence.

"Uh...Harris?"

Pause.

"Harris." Spike poked him. "Xander!" He pushed a bit, revealing a peacefully sleeping Xander, happy smile on his face. Well now, this was interesting.

Spike smiled a little himself, braving to touch Xander's hair, giving him little puppy-dog strokes, enjoying the contact. It had been so long since someone had touched him that is felt nice to hold someone, even if that someone was passed out. He pulled his hand away from Xander's hair and wiped it on his pants. The guy used a lot of hair product. And he kinda smelled like a wino still.

Despite that, and the fact that Harris was in desperate need of a haircut, Spike found his leather pants were getting a little tight. Arousal in leather seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. "No wonder the Poof wears them all the time," he mumbled, shifting in an attempt to get comfortable. "Even if he did manage to get a hard on, these things would punish him for his evil ways in no time." Xander frowned and clutched at his legs tightly, making Spike stop. Oh hell. Looked like he was spending the night.

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Xander rubbed his face. His pillow felt funny. Kinda smooth and not fluffy. And it had a manly scent to-wait.

He sat up slightly, ignoring the slight throbbing in his head, taking in the fact that he had just spent the night with Spike. With his head in his lap. Oh god! His head was in his lap all night long.

Xander looked at the lap in question, taking in the shape. Not only did his face lay there, it laid on Spike's rather hard bulge. He rubbed at his cheek, feeling creases. Gah! Spike creases! Creases of Spike! He had vampire erection creases!

Said vampire was resting peacefully, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. Xander sat up more, and his eyes opened immediately, looking straight at him. Ok, that was creepy. Time to play it cool. Brush this off as no big deal.

"Uh..." Xander said stupidly, trying not to look in the direction of The Bulge. "Uh...whu...ah..."

"Well said." Spike tilted his head, not looking one bit self-conscious. "Sleep well?"

Xander blinked. "Well?" he repeated, trying to think of something clever to say. Standing up, he said, "I'm going to take a shower." Spike looked intrigued and he was so not blushing. No, no blushing here. He resisted the urge to add, alone.

"You do that," Spike said dryly. He put his arms up, sighing, and suddenly paused in mid-stretch. "Ow."

Xander turned around. "Ow?"

Spike picked at the front of his pants, a pained expression on his face. "Yes ow. These pants chafe. And since I was stuck on the couch all night long I was stuck wearing them."

Xander pointed and laughed. "Chafed! Hahaha! You're chafed! Didn't hanging around with Angel teach you anything??"

Spike made a face at the mention of The Poof.

"Wait," Xander turned his head slightly, intrigued. "Was that a disturbed sexual remembering kind of face?"

Spike glowered. "No! Why does everyone keep thinking I'd do it with Peaches??"

He shuffled around uncomfortably, still plucking at the front of his waistband. "You're gonna have to help me with them," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to something more fun.

"Help?" Xander took a step back, face panicked. "Help? I uh, I have to get in the shower. Because I need to get to work. Yes, work. Can't 'help' you with your pants. That's crazy." He waved his arms around, ignoring the curious part of his brain that was wondering what Spike looked like under those leather pants. Shut up. You are not gay. You like women. Think about women. Naked women. Naked women with naked Spike...dammit!

"Stop being such a nancyboy, Harris." Spike grinned, enjoying screwing with him. As if he actually needed help taking his pants off. His vampire healing had him healing already. "Look, be reasonable. It's your fault I'm chafed. If you hadn't drank so much-"

Xander made a loud noise. "You're the one who bought the second bottle of tequila, and with my money!"

"-and then made me carry you all the way home, " Spike kept going, ignoring his outburst. "And then passed out on me I could have gone into my cozy little dungeon of a room and slept in the buff like I always do. Instead I was forced to sleep in the leather. Now, stop being such a baby and help me get these off, will you?" He gave a little nod. "Besides, it's Saturday. No work today."

Spike put just enough of a tilt to the word 'work' that Xander became suspicious. "You'd better not be screwing with me," he said, immediately regretting his choice of words.

"Wouldn't think of it," Spike said, hiding his smile. He motioned to his button. "Now, a little help?"

"Fine. I can help you with your pants to prove my hetero-ness. Hold on." Xander disappeared into the bathroom, coming out with a bottle of baby powder. "This will help get the pants off."

"I'm not putting that on me!" Spike protested. "That's for females and little ones!"

"Do you want my help or not?"

Spike shut up, watching as Xander carefully reached over to his waistband, his fingers avoiding contact with his skin as much as possible. He pulled the pants slightly and shook some powder inside, eyes flicking between the smooth exposed belly and the floor. The powder trailed down. It tickled.

Xander's fingers fumbled at his button like it was his first time unhooking a bra, hands shaking slightly. Spike watched as he struggled, finally placing his own hands over Xander's, slowing guiding him through the button and zipper.

Xander flushed nervously as he started to pull the pants down. More and more of Spike's belly was being exposed and he was growing more and more nervous. The fact that Spike was still hard wasn't helping matters. Not to mention that his own pants seemed to be getting a little snug themselves. Panicking, he moved behind Spike, hands sliding out from under his and around to Spike's back.

"What're you doing?" Spike asked softly, turning a bit to look at him, eyes sleepy.

"Uh..." Xander swallowed. "I think it'll be easier to get them off if I'm tugging at the back, " he lied, palms sweaty from touching. He wiped them on his shirt. "So, here I go. With the tugging."

The pants slid down rather easily, but Xander was too distracted by the sight of Spike's ass to notice. Commando, he thought. Why am I not surprised?

"Told you it was firm enough to bounce a quarter."

Startled, Xander looked up to see Spike smirking at him. Not breaking eye contact, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. "Will this do?"

Spike made his eyes go wide, challenging him. "I dare you."

"You dare me?" Xander asked, smiling.

Spike shrugged, not actually expecting him to toss it at him. As if he'd do it. As if Harris-

The quarter bounced off his ass and landed on the end table with a rattle.

Xander laughed, enjoying the surprised look on Spike's face. Their eyes met again and suddenly Xander realized that he was having fun with a half-dressed vampire. Who was male. "I've gotta go, " he blurted, moving around Spike and to the door.

"Where?" Spike asked, pants still down around his thighs.

"It's Saturday. I'm a man. Men wash their cars on Saturday. I have to do that." He paused at the door, flustered. "And possibly mow Buffy's lawn. And fix a broken window."

The door slammed, leaving Spike standing there, the smell of baby powder everywhere.

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The car sparkled, every speck of dirt washed, rinsed and repeated. Xander wiped at it, feeling better. Manly men washed their cars. And possibly changed the oil. He'd never changed oil, but, as a manly man himself, he assumed he could. Because he was all man.

Grabbing the Turtle Wax from his trunk, he began to rub it on furiously. Clear the mind Xander. Wax on. Wax off. Wax on. Wax off. Yes Mr. Miyagi, that's right. I'm waxing. I'm one with the wax.

I wonder if Spike waxes. Xander slowed his rubbing, pondering. His butt was rather smooth. And firm. That quarter bounced off it like a kid on a trampoline. I wonder if he does lunges.

A picture of a naked Spike doing lunges in his living room suddenly popped into his head. "Bloody hell! These lunges really firm up my firm, smooth ass! I must tell Harris all about it!"

"Gah!" Xander began waxing feverishly. "That never happened. I so did not imagine that."

He polished madly, sweat running into his eyes. Wax on! Wax off!