A/N: I am sooo sorry for the long wait. I lost my notebook. I didn't even find the already written chapter and had to write as I go because I only found my basic plot notes which, thankfully, I keep separated by chapter. So this is clearly not the best I could have done for chapter 2 but I figured after the long wait I should just get out what I could.

See chapter 1 for all the details like the disclaimer and pairings and crap. Thanks!

Previously in chapter 1:

Then he hung up the phone and turned to face Spike only to see that he wasn't there anymore. He wandered around the house until he heard Spike's voice mixing with two others. 'Oh shit.' Xander thought. 'This is all that I need.'

ON WITH THE STORY!

"Here he is" Xander's mother said, rushing in. Xander's father scowled and shoved Spike rudely out of the way as he walked in. "We decided to come for a visit, boy." He said as an explanation for their early morning visit.

"That's ok dad. Just wished you would have given me more warning. I would have been able to make the place nice for you." Xander replied, hoping that his parents didn't decide to do a house search like the last time. The last time they had come, Xander had gotten enough warning to mess up the guest room where Spike was supposed to be staying so that it looked lived in.

Xander's father walked closer to his son and it was then obvious that he had been drinking. 'Well that explains a lot.' Xander thought to himself. Then his father said the words Xander had been praying he wouldn't.

"Why don't you show us around the house, boy?" He said, glaring at Xander as though daring him to object.

"But dad, you saw the house last time you visited." Xander replied, hoping that in his father's drunken state that would be enough to satisfy him. But no such luck came. "Well I wanna see it again. Don't argue with me boy. I'm still your father." He took a step closer and raised his fist as though he was going to hit Xander. Spike, who had been quiet and unmoving through the whole thing growled low in his throat and took a step towards his boyfriend and his clearly drunk and abusive father.

"One Harris house tour, coming up." Xander spat out quickly, giving Spike a pleading look, silently begging him not to start up with his father. Mr. Harris backed down and put down his fist. "That's right boy. Now where are we starting?" Ms. Harris looked nosily around the house, wondering what they would see. "Uh…why don't you start in the kitchen?" Spike suggested quickly, hoping that would give him time to hide the things in their bedroom and move some clothes into the guest room.

"No. I can already see the kitchen Xander sweetie. I want to see the rest of the house." Xander's mother answered, clearly wanting to inspect her son's bedroom for signs that he was anything less than normal. Xander sighed. 'Damn. I just can't get a break can I?' he thought. Out loud he said, "Sure. Let's head into the living room."

The group walked slowly into the living room which, even though it wasn't disgusting, wasn't exactly a spotless room. DVD cases were scattered around the room and a couple dirty dishes sat on the coffee table, waiting to be taken into the kitchen and cleaned. All in all, though, it was a fairly normal room. Nothing sat out in the open that hinted that Xander and Spike were anything more than roommates or friends.

"Well as you can see, this is the living room. Needs a little bit of cleaning but it's still pretty good." Xander commented, secretly hoping that he didn't leave out his latest copy of Out. Xander's dad glared at the room as though it was offending him that he couldn't find anything seriously wrong with it. "A little bit of cleaning? Looks like a bomb blew up in this room. What are you a slob?" He asked, clearly having to find anything he could to criticize his son. "You're right dad. I'll clean it up as soon as possible." Xander found it was best not to argue with his father when he was drunk. It kept people from getting hurt. "Let's see your room Xander." His mother requested. Xander looked quickly at Spike, his eyes wide with panic. "What's the matter Xander? Don't have nothing to hide do you?" His father asked cruelly. Xander masked the look with a pleasant one and replied to his father, "No dad. Of course not. Let's go."

They walked down the hall and opened one of the doors. Spike and Xander's bedroom was, surprisingly, the cleanest room in the house. Other than a couple stray articles of clothing, which in a rush to "get to bed" were thrown on the floor, the floor was clear. Unfortunately, the clothing on the floor was not Xander's, which his mother was quick to notice. "Xander, whose clothes are those on the floor?" she asked nosily. The color drained from both Spike and Xander's faces as they both struggled in their minds for an excuse.

Xander's father stomped over to the clothing and picked up a small black t-shirt. "Looks like a MANS t-shirt Xander. And since you are so damn fat I'm guessing it's not yours. Whose is it?" He inquired angrily. Xander didn't answer, his panic growing and all excuses leaving his brain in that instant. "WELL XANDER? Who does this fucking t-shirt belong to?" Xander opened his mouth to answer his father but he wasn't allowed to get out a word before Mr. Harris flipped out and started yelling. "You wanna know what I think? I think that you and this asshole roommate of yours are fags and this is his t-shirt. I think you are fucking him. Are you a fucking fag Xander? Well? ANSWER ME BOY! Answer me or I swear to fucking god I'll fucking beat you into next week boy! Are you a fag Xander?" Xander's father stormed up to him and got in his face. Xander stuttered a reply to his father. "U-u-uh. W-Well you s-see…"

"Yes, you bloody dick. We are gay. And we are dating. Do you have a fucking problem with that?" Spike interrupted Xander and answered Mr. Harris. Ms. Harris's face adopted a look of utter disgust. "Xander, you're a FAG? How could you? I thought we raised you well? What did we do to deserve this?" she moaned.

Xander's father, however, had a different reaction. The look on his face turned from accusing to furious. If looks could kill his own son would have been on the floor, dead and gushing blood. He turned to Spike, who, while answering Mr. Harris had stepped up behind him, and looked at him with a mix of utter disgust and murderous rage. When Spike did not back down to the look he pulled back his fist and swung, hitting………………………

TO BE CONTINUED

Sorry folks. Had to do it. Want to make sure what's coming up is really good so I'm going to start writing ASAP. Please review! I promise to have the next part up ASAP! Luvvers you all.