DISCLAIMER: The other night I was rummaging through Joss' personal effects when I hear the front door open and people come in. I freeze, then make a mad dash for the nearest hiding spot. So, there I am, trapped in Joss' closet, holding onto his GAP sweats and doing a little sweating myself, when I happen to actually look at the back of the door and find that Joss has hung a huge, blown-up picture of myself on it. Not only that, but there were like, all these little red hearts drawn over my chest, and the words 'Mr. and Mrs. mr. monkeybottoms' written all over the thing in girly writing. I dropped the sweats and ran for it.

THANKS: Thanks for reading! Thanks, as always, to sisabet and dr. dawn for the great plots. Thanks to Devil Piglet, the sweet sweet beta. And NO thanks go out to my internet provider, who did NOT provide internet, and then made me wait on hold for 20 minutes, only to tell me to reboot my computer. So, of course I did, and of course it starts working, despite the fact that I rebooted three times already, and of course now the guy from the Help department thinks I'm an idiot who doesn't think to reboot. Jackasses.

SUMMARY: When we last saw our heroes...let's see. Xander and Spike drank. Xander passed out on Spike's groin. Spike let him and then pretended to be chafed the next morning so Xander would help him take off his pants. Xander panicked and waxed the car.

************************************************************************

"Are you still sleeping? Get up, lazybones. It's time to patrol."

Spike opened one eye. Harris was silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, the light from the hall spilling inside. "Patrol? What about the Slayer? Does she actually slay anymore or just look sad all the time?" He sat up onto the side of the bed and rubbed at his hair groggily.

"We're all doing our part," Xander said. "You know, First Evil and all that. Remember? The thing that made you crazy in the basement?"

Spike narrowed his eyes at him.

"Anyways, Buffy just called and asked us to patrol the east side," Xander continued, ignoring the glaring. "Here."

Something soft was tossed at Spike's head. "What's this, then?" Spike held the fabric up and groaned.

"It's for you," Xander said.

"No. Forget it."

"You have a better idea?" Xander asked, arms crossed.

"Yes! I'll wear my leather, thank you very much."

Xander crossed his arms. "What about the chafing?"

Spike paused. "Ah yes. The chafing." He dropped the leather pants back onto the floor. "Harris, seriously. You can't expect me to wear these! I have an image to uphold!"

Xander shrugged. "They're all I have that would fit you."

Spike stared at it. "No self-respecting vampire would be caught dead wearing these...these..."

"Plaid jammie bottoms?" Xander supplied helpfully. "Just put them on and hurry up. It's already ten o'clock."

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't the one who had a peaceful sleep on someone else's member last night," Spike muttered but Xander had already left the room. Spike held the pajama bottoms in one hand like a dead animal and made a face. "Bugger this."

When Spike walked out of the bedroom a few minutes later, Xander kept his face perfectly blank...for about three seconds.

"Shut it," Spike snarled. He grabbed his duster out of Xander's hands and shrugged it on with a flourish. "Not one word out of you or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Xander grinned. "Have a sleepover party and not invite me?"

Spike ignored him and marched out of the apartment. He then ignored him for the next twenty minutes while the prat rattled on and on about his pants, his hair colour, and the fact that Spike still, somehow, smelled very strongly of baby powder.

That was the last straw. He whirled on him.

"Harris! Would you bloody shut your bloody mouth?" Spike snapped.

Xander tried to look contrite. "Sorry, Spike...I...uh...I" His face twisted. "I'm sorry, I just...can't...I can't not find this funny!" He burst into laughter.

"That's it." Spike ripped the cotton bottoms off, revealing his leather pants underneath.

"Hey!" Xander pointed, mouth open. "What the!"

Spike just looked at him.

"You! You're not chafed!" Xander accused.

"Oh, but I am." Spike took a few steps and winced. "See?" He walked ahead gingerly, legs spread out slightly like a cowboy. "Ooooh dear, the leather really rubs up against the raw areas." He waved his hands towards his groin dramatically.

Xander tried not to stare at said areas.

Spike smiled. The tables had turned. "My poor bits are still tender," he complained, plucking and gesturing. "Ow!"

Xander looked directly into the nearest patch of bushes. "Why didn't you wear the sweats then?" he demanded, concentrating on some very nice looking leaves. Pretty leaves. Not a hint of leather in the bunch. "And? You ripped Anya's favorite pair of sweats."

"You gave me the Shopgirl's pants?" Spike demanded.

Xander shrugged. "Well, it's all that I had in your size."

Spike glared. "I am not the same size as your Ex." He stormed off, forgetting to limp, and disappeared in the darkness.

"Spike..." Xander blindly followed him into the woods, stumbling over roots and fallen branches. "Hey, come on...I can't see like you can. Wait up! Spike...don't be such a baby...uh...Spike? It's very dark out here..."

"Shhh." Spike hissed in his ear, making him jump in surprise. "Look."

"Where?" Xander whispered, blinking uselessly in the dark. Spike took his head and turned it to the left, revealing a light blinking through the trees. "What is it?"

"Fire," Spike said softly. "And trouble."

Xander squinted, trying to see more. "Trouble is what we do best. We'll, it's what Buffy does best. I tag along for the ride."

"Come on," Spike hissed, pulling Xander's shoulder.

Xander grabbed a handful of duster and followed, trying not to fall flat on his face as they snuck closer. The sounds of fighting could be heard now, yelling and running and snarling. Ah yes, a sound he knew all too well.

Spike pulled the bushes apart to reveal a campfire. There was screaming and crying, legs and arms flailing, fangs flashing in the reflection of the flames as the teen boys struggled to escape from the monsters that had invaded their fun.

. "How many?" Xander gasped.

Spike's eyes flicked over the scene. "Five." He pressed a stake into Xander's hands. "We can take them." Spike looked at him, face sliding into bumps and ridges, mirroring the vamps they were about to kill. "We have to save the children," Spike said, voice slightly strained.

"Uh. Okay." Xander tightened his grip on the wood, hand sweaty. "Let's go be heroes then."

They burst out of the woods, catching the vamps completely by surprise. Xander dusted one before the vamp even knew they were there, its mouth hanging open in shock as it poofed away forever. The kid it'd been drinking slid to the dirt, stunned, a hand to his bloody neck.

"Wha-" he said, dazed, gazing at Xander in an almost reverent way. "Are you a superhero?"

Xander had already turned away to help Spike, but froze at the kid's words. "Superhero?" he said, grinning. "Well, not in the truest sense. But I do fight evil nightly. Why, just the other week I was in a huge argument with a vampire over what channel we were gonna watch on Must See T-"

"Harris!"

Spike's shout broke him out of his speech and he whipped around in time to see the tree branch being swung at him. He ducked and tackled the vamp, his momentum causing his to stake slip thorough its ribs and into it's heart, dusting it before they even hit the ground.

"Wow!" the kids said, still clutching at his neck. "You are a hero!"

Xander grinned and spun his stake jauntily. Well, he tried to, but it turned a half turn and then clattered to the ground. "Oops."

"A little help!" Spike yelled, struggling with the remaining two, the ashes of another floating around him.

"Coming!" Xander joined in, grabbing at the one holding Spike. Its grip loosened and Spike raised his arms and spun, twisting its head off as he went. Snarling, the last two let go of their humans who promptly ran for it in terror, and rounded on them, furious.

"Who are you?" the bigger one demanded, seeing Spike's gameface. "You're supposed to be one of us!"

"Yeah!" The other chimed in, upset at his dinner being interrupted.

"Oh please. Don't tell me you've never heard of me." Spike scoffed.

The two vamps waited stupidly.

Spike swept a hand over his outfit. "Leather coat? Bleached hair? Charming good looks?"

They blinked.

"Uh..." Bigger said, unsure. "Uh...Angel?"

"OH!" Spike reeled back as if he'd been struck. "Angel? Angel! Are you mad? Angel has perfectly stupid hair! Plus he mopes all the time and wears leather pants!"

"You're wearing leather pants," the smaller vampire pointed out. "See?"

Smaller nodded. "You are, you know."

"Maybe you should have stuck with the jammies," Xander suggested, getting a glare for his efforts. "Okay, just sayin'."

"These are only a temporary problem and hey! Why don't the two of you shut up!" Spike said, furious.

"You're the one who asked us," Bigger said, offended.

"Yeah and....hey...do you smell...baby?" Smaller asked, sniffing carefully.

"I love babies!" Bigger said excitedly. "So moist and plump and rich!" The two inhaled deeply, eyes closed, leaning in towards Spike as they breathed.

"This is so disturbing," Xander said.

Bigger's eyes opened, glowing evilly. "It's coming from you, Angel. Why do you smell like a baby? Are you hiding them on us?"

Smaller took a step closer, teeth gleaming as his grinned. "Yeah Angel, share. We're the same, the three of us." He shot a glace towards Xander who watched in a combination of amusement and horror. "And when we've finished the babies we'll eat your pal there. He looks easy enough to kill."

Three sets of yellow eyes slid over to Xander.

"Hey! Am not!" He raised his stake higher.

"Come on Angel, let's-" Bigger ran for it, escaping into the night, and flushing out another vamp who'd been hiding in the long grasses. It leapt up and followed him, running for it's life.

"What!" Smaller said, right before he dusted.

"Right then." Spike stepped away, brushing at his duster. "That's what you get for calling me Angel."

"And threatening me." Xander pointed out.

"Yeah. That too." Spike shrugged.

Xander walked over to the teenager who was still sprawled on the ground, holding his wounded neck. "It's okay now, they're gone. Come on, I'll help you up." He held his hand out but the kid shied away, terrified. "Hey, don't worry, they're gone. And mostly dead."

The kid raised a trembling hand and pointed to Spike, who was still all bumpy and staring into the fire, muttering 'Stupid Angel'. "He's one of them."

Xander turned. "Who him? No no, he's okay. He's as harmless as a kitten in a tree. Why, he couldn't hurt us if he tried. He couldn't bite us or snap our necks or even chop us into little bits of...wait! Where are you going!" The kid ran off through the woods. "He only kills evil things!" he shouted after him.

"Give it up Harris." Spike said. "There's more important things to be taken care of here."

"Oh yeah?" Xander came over and Spike opened the abandoned cooler. "Ooooh! Beer!"

Spike grabbed the bunch by the plastic rings and held up a bottle of amber liquid. "And a little something special."

"What is it?" Xander asked.

"Early Times." Spike informed him. "The cheapest bourbon around."

The two looked at each other and shrugged, plopping themselves down on top of the cooler and each popping a tallboy. They drank in comfortable silence, arms and legs touching, watching the fire snap and jump as they thought.

"Let's shoutgun," Xander said.

"Shotgun..." Spike shot him a look. "All right," he said, picking up two fresh ones when they'd finished their first beers. He pulled a switchblade out of nowhere and flicked it open, stabbing a hole in the bottoms of each can. "No spilling."

"No fair!" Xander said, taking his can and holding it to his mouth, ready to pop the top. "You don't have to breathe! But I'll still beat you, I'm a champion shotgunner."

"Wrong. I'm the champ. Dru taught me. Said the ghost of Janis Joplin showed her how to do it. She was a strange girl, my Dru." Spike held his beer up. "On the count of three. One...two...three!"

They opened their beers and drank madly, draining the cans in seconds. Xander let out a large belch, looking confused when Spike didn't.

"Don't breathe, remember? Means I don't burp."

"Mmm. Very refined," Xander said, stifling a hiccup. "Hey! Marshmallows!" He tore open the bag sitting beside the cooler and tossed one in his mouth. "Wan' wan?" he mumbled around the marshmallow, mouth full and sticky. Spike leaned away.

"No. Hate the things. So puffy and sugary. They remind me of The Poof." Spike took a deep drink of the bourbon, finishing off half of it.

Xander swallowed, looking around the cooler. "You really have issues with the guy," he said, picking up a stake and looking at it, thinking hard. "Do you think this would work for roasting?"

Spike grabbed the stake. "Yeah. That would be a great idea. Burn our weapons." He tucked it away safely into his duster. "And I do not have issues. You have issues."

"Me?" Xander looked up, clutching the branch he'd found sitting right beside them, three marshmallows already pushed on in a row. "Issues? What issues? I'm issue-free. Anti-issue. Issue-less is what I am."

Spike scoffed. "Right. That's why you left your bird at the altar."

"Hey!" Xander pulled his stick away from the fire, marshmallows aflame. "That was..."

Spike looked at him.

"That was...that was a really terrible thing for me to do. But I had to do it, because as much as it hurts now, it would hurt a lot more ten years from now when we hated each other." He blew on his charred marshmallows, forlorn.

"Here." Spike passed him the bottle and he took it, drinking deeply. "I thought you two would make it, actually. She's a nice enough gal, very classy, and.." he trailed off, suddenly realizing that Xander might not appreciate his thoughts on Anya, what with the whole having sex with her and it being watched live and so forth. He drank the rest of his beer quickly in an attempt to stall for time, noticing Xander was doing the same. Think. Think! Change the subject, dammit! "Uh..." He grabbed a few more beers. "Another round?"

"More shotgunning?" Xander asked. "Are you trying to get me drunk again, vampire?"

"Trying? Please, you are such a prancing lightweight. You're already drunk."

Xander did his best to look offended. "No...you're already drunk. I told you your soul makes you drunker faster."

Spike stabbed the two cans viciously. "Here. Drink, monkeyboy. Then we'll see who's the drunk one." He drained his quickly, ignoring how his head spun when he was done. Stupid Xander. The soul didn't make him drunk. Why, in his day he could drink a case of the best bourbon and then follow that up with a few party-goers...oh god...how awful of him...

Xander's eyes narrowed. "Did you just wipe a tear away?" he asked suspiciously.

Spike ducked his head. "What! No!" Stupid soul.

Xander stared at him. "How do you feel?"

Spike froze, not knowing what to say.

Xander looked at Spike's pants. "I mean, hey, Soulicious, how does your crotch feel?" he slurred a little, grinning.

Spike smirked and tilted his head. "Soulicious?" he said slowly, eyes warm.

"I meant the chafing!" Xander said, suddenly flustered. He jumped up, noticing for the first time how close they'd been sitting, how their bodies were touching, how it hadn't even occurred to him to feel uncomfortable sitting so close to Spike. He grabbed at the bottle of Early Times and chugged.

"Of course you meant the chafing." Spike kicked off his boots and stood up, hands on his belt. "Well now, let's see..." he said, pulling his leather pants off and tossing them to the side with a shrug.

Xander choked, sending cheap bourbon all over the place, eyes boggling at the naked Spike in front of him. What's with the no underwear. And...no pants. He's always taking the pants off. Okay, so maybe I helped him last time but seriously. It's like national Unpants Day. I should get paid time and a half.

Spike cupped himself thoughtfully. "No. Nothing wrong here. All healed up." He stroked slowly, making Xander gasp.

"Sweet Muscular Jesus!" Xander took another swig and almost lost his balance.

"Nooo, Spike. But you can call me 'Sweet Muscular William' if you like," Spike answered, eyes sleepy. Xander stared, unable to look away from his hands and the touching.

"Hey!" Spike slurred loudly, making Xander jump in surprise. "Look." He turned and ran towards the fire and jumped over it effortlessly, landing unscathed on the other side.

Xander doubled over, laughing. "You stupid-!" He fell to the ground, breathless from lack of air. "Dumbass! You're flammable! You stupid retarded vampire!"

Spike grinned.

"You can die, dummy!" Xander wiped at his eyes, still laughing.

"Yeah. But it's fun." Spike edged around the fire. "Flames licking your arse. They want your willie, but they can't if you're quick..." he jumped over again, still naked from the waist up.

"Can't...breathe..." Xander gasped, holding his sides. "Spike, you moron!"

"Try it," Spike said, doing it again. "It's fun."

Xander sat up. "Hell no! There's no way I'm exposing the Harris legacy to an open flame!"

Spike gave him an impatient look.

"No!" Xander said, firmly.

Spike raised his eyebrows, mocking.

"No!"

"I dare you."

"Nope. I like the boys right here where they belong."

Spike stepped close. "I double dog dare you."

Xander's eyes narrowed. "Fine," he said. Drinking the last of the bourbon he tossed the bottle aside. "Get ready." He pulled his pants down and tossed them over with the bottle.

Spike crossed his arms and waited, watching Xander fiddled with the front of his underwear nervously.

Xander swallowed. "Uh...can I uh...use a sock? For modesty's sake."

Spike scoffed.

Xander sighed and tugged at his boxers, pulling them off and tossing them with the rest. The two stood there, pantless, bottomless, and shoeless, staring at each other challengingly.

Spike looked towards the fire and then back at Xander, one eyebrow cocked.

"Alright then." Xander took a step back, readying himself. "Here I go." He ran towards the fire.

That's when the vampires attacked.