B is for Birthdays, Banyans, and Balloons.

Xander watched Spike carefully out of the corner of his eye. The vampire was sitting on the steps in the Magic Box, looking as innocent and carefree as a vampire possibly could. He even went so far as to tilt his head back and stare at the ceiling, whistling cheerfully.

Xander knew something was up.

Well, okay, duh. This was Spike. Something was always up.

But this time he thought that something was more up than usual. Spike was acting so perfectly innocent and blameless that he just had to be doing something to be blamed for.

But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. So he sat there, watching Spike out of the corner of his eye, and worked his way through the pile of weapons that Giles had slapped down on the table and told him to clean.

Reminded of the ex-Watcher, Xander looked up and around. Giles was nowhere to be seen- which was odd, because ever since Anya had left him several months ago, Giles hadn't yet found a new sales assistant, and it was extremely unlike him to leave the register unoccupied, even if Xander was sitting there. What was going on?

Just then, Willow came running in, from the door that led to the training room. "Xander, come quick! There's some demon in the back, and I can't get ahold of Buffy, and I think it's going to kill Giles!"

Every bit of concern over Spike's faux innocence vanished in a surge of sheer adrenaline. He grabbed an axe out of the pile on the table and took over for the back door, just barely aware of Spike right on his heels.

He burst out of the door that led to the alley, axe already raised to strike down whatever evil fiend was after them this week, when he saw that there was no evil fiend. Instead, the alley was filled with three long tables, two covered with food and one with prettily wrapped presents, and people. Buffy was there, grinning, along with Giles, completely unharmed, as well as Willow, Tara, Dawn, Mrs. Summers, and a couple of guys from the site, the ones who knew exactly what kind of town Sunnydale was.

He was staring, dumbfounded, at the completely unexpected sight before him, when he heard Spike's voice behind him. "Happy Birthday, pet."

He spun around to face the vampire, who was standing there, smiling at him. "What?"

Willow bounced back over to him, grinning like a loon. "It was Spike's idea. I know we never threw you a party, because somehow most parties end up Hellmouthy, but Spike wanted to give you a party. He set the whole thing up- all we had to do was show up."

"He even called us," volunteered Joe, one of the guys he worked with. "Hell if I know how he got our numbers, but he called us up, told us there was gonna be a party for your birthday and when and where we were supposed to be."

He turned back around in a daze to face Spike. "You did this? But I didn't even know that you knew my birthday."

Spike looked at the grounded, looked at the sky, and finally looked back at Xander. "Angeltoldme," he muttered, very fast, but Xander understood him nonetheless.

"Angel told you?" He paused. "I wonder how Angel knew."

"Dunno, pet, but when I went up to LA last Saturday and ran into him we got to talking about you, and he told me your birthday was today." Spike was silent for a minute, then said, very softly, "Just wanted to do something nice for you, you know? You've been looking out for me for the past couple of months, so I figured I wanted to return the favor."

Xander smiled at him, and said, "Thank you, Spike," in such a heartfelt voice that Spike was dazzled by the intensity and sincerityHeHH in his dark brown eyes. There was a moment where they were locked in their own little bubble of reality, and they were just looking at each other, and there was something there, something Spike almost realized but not quite, and before he could grasp it Dawn had bounced forward to drag him over to the presents table, loudly proclaiming that he had to open hers first, and the moment was lost.

It had been a hell of a party. Not really Spike's style, with all the smiles and chatter and absolutely no blood and carnage, but Xander was enjoying it, and that was all Spike cared about.

Even if they had played Backstreet Boys for a solid hour. Spike shuddered at the very thought.

All the presents had been opened, and all the cake and ice cream had been consumed. Everyone was sprawled out in chairs, talking in the quiet, comfortable sort of way that happens when everyone has eaten far too much. Xander was laughing with Willow and Buffy, and Spike was sitting off to the side, on his own, watching the three best friends and smiling just a little to himself because his surprise worked out even better than he thought it would.

Someone sat down beside him, but he didn't turn around to face her till Tara said, "This was just what he needed, you know."

Spike gave her a sideways glance. "Is that right?"

She nodded. "You know that I can see auras, sometimes, right?"

"Yeah. What's your point?"

She ignored his rudeness and snark just like she always did. "He's been a little... off, the past few months. It got better for a while after you moved in, but after a while he started drifting again. There's something a little transparent about his aura, a little shadowed. It's always better when you're around, though. I think you're good for him."

Spike sat in silence for a moment, thinking about that. "I'm glad," he said finally. "He's good for me, too."

Tara sent him an impish grin, and he couldn't help but grin back. "Everyone knows that," she told him. "I'm just glad that you realize it." Pause. "I wonder if he does."

"Does what, pet?" Spike asked, as if he didn't know.

"Knows that he's good for you. I haven't seen him as happy as he is today for months. As I said, it's exactly what he needed. But you wanted to give him something special, didn't you? Something that he'd never think to get for himself?"

Spike whipped his head around to stare at her. "How did you-"

"The party was a good start," Tara continued, ignoring his question. "But that wasn't enough for you, was it? You wanted to give him something else. Only you couldn't think of anything."

Spike was staring at her now, completely silent and, very possibly, with his mouth hanging open.

"I think that if you really want to give him something special, you'd tell him."

"Tell him what? What am I supposed to tell him?"

"That he's good for you," Tara said softly, and then, even more softly, "Tell him what he means to you. The rest will come from that."

"The rest? What rest? What are you talking about?"

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "there's a type of tree in East India called a banyan that sends out shoots to grown down to the soil until it's formed a secondary trunk." She smiled at him, a tiny, mysterious smile that he didn't think he'd ever seen on her face before. "If you think about it, I think that you'll realize that you've done exactly the same thing with Xander."

While he was staring at her, she stood up, still smiling her mysterious little smile. "It's getting late," she said. "I better get Willow home, if she wants to be conscious for her class tomorrow."

"You do that, pet," he said distractedly, still watching her intensely as he tried to make sense of her words. She nodded, touched his cheek once, smiled, and then walked over to where Willow was still laughing with Buffy and Xander.

When Willow and Tara left, everyone decided to make their excuses as well, and within minutes the alley was empty of everyone except Spike and Xander. Xander was smiling, a happy, carefree smile that Spike hadn't seen in... longer than he could remember, really, and he thought that Tara was right about this, so maybe she was right about the rest of it? Should he tell Xander how much he cared about him, how glad he was that they'd somehow gotten over their mutual hatred and become friends? Spike hadn't had a friend before, not really, and he wasn't sure if he could really put into words what that friendship meant to him.

Xander came over to where Spike was still sitting. "Hey, Bleachboy," he said with an affectionate grin. "Party's over. Everyone's gone. Who's gonna clean up?"

"I hired somehow to come in soon as the sun's up and take care of it," Spike said absently, still wondering how to say what Tara had told him to say. "All we gotta do is take the presents."

"Man, you're actually paying for someone to clean this up? You sure went all-out on this," Xander said. He touched Spike's shoulder with three careful fingertips. "I can't thank you enough for tonight," he said more seriously. "I didn't know how much I needed this till I got it. I owed you big."

"You don't owe me anything, pet," he said, and was just about to try to tell Xander what he meant, when Xander abruptly switched gears and grinned.

"C'mon, let's grab the presents and go home."

Home. The word touched something in Spike. It always did. Didn't matter that he'd been living with Xander for months, and Xander had been saying it for just as long. It still surprised him each and every time.

"Actually, the night's not over yet," Spike told him. "You might have noticed that I didn't get you a present."

Xander turned to look at him, surprised. "I thought that the party was my present."

"No, the party was a party. The present is waiting for us in LA."

Xander gave him an extremely confused look. "In LA? What's in LA?" Pause. "This doesn't have anything to do with Angel, does it?"

"Oh hell no," Spike said. "Well, only in that we might stay the night in one of his spare rooms. He's got a whole damn hotel, anyway. No, the present isn't Angel. It's a club."

"What?"

Oh, Spike loved that expression. It was the one that said that Xander's brain was running one step behind whatever was being said. It was too cute for words.

Wait. Cute? Since when did he think anything about Xander was cute? Jesus. He must be going insane.

"I said, we're going to a club. You had your evening of good clean fun. Now it's fun to get a little down-and-dirty."

What did that expression on Xander's face mean? His eyes had darkened at those last words, and Xander's mouth had turned down a little at the corners. What, did Xander have an objection to clubs?

"Problem?"

"Can't dance," Xander said shortly. "I don't think clubbing would really be my thing."

Oh, for the love of- "Of course you can dance," Spike said, his exasperation evident in his voice. "I've seen you fight, haven't I?"

"What that got to do with anything?"

"It's the same thing, pet," Spike explained. "It's all in knowing your body. And you do. And even if you can't dance, well, I'll just have to show you how, won't I?"

Another flash of something unhappy in his expression, and Spike decided that he was going to have to break out his last resort, if only to get a smile. "Oh, and there's one other thing," he said, very casually. When Xander looked back at him, the question plain in his eyes, Spike grinned at him and bent to rummage in the large black bag he'd kept near his chair, for just such a moment.

He emerged triumphant with three red balloons, and held them out to Xander with a grin. "These," he said. "I have it on good authority that you can't have a proper birthday without balloons."

"Whose authority?" Xander said absently, looking at the balloons as if he was hypnotized by the things.
"Dawn," Spike said. "You gonna take 'em or not?"

Whatever thoughts were holding Xander captive seemed to let go then, and the grin was back when he looked up at Spike. "Yeah, I'm gonna take them," he said, suiting action to word. "So, we gonna go clubbing, or what?"

Spike breathed an internal sigh of relief. Whatever sore spot he'd touched seemed to be gone for the time being, and the Xander he was used to was back. "Yeah, we're going," he said. "C'mon, you're gonna die of old age before we get to LA, at this rate."

"Yeah, yeah," Xander said, and slung a friendly arm over his shoulders. "We taking your car or mine?"

"Oh, definitely yours," Spike said, thinking of Xander's uncle's convertible that Spike had repaired recently. "And I'm driving."

"Like hell you are," Xander said, but it was a laughing protested. They bickered amicably as they loaded up the presents in the trunk, and Spike thought that things were back to normal. Well, as normal as things ever got with them, anyway.

He'd talk to Xander later. But before he did, he wanted to think about what Tara said some more, and decided exactly what he wanted to say. It was important, and he didn't want to get it wrong.

And maybe later he'd figure out what was wrong with Xander, for in the last ten minutes, he'd become certain that something definitely was. They'd talk eventually, and he'd pry it out of Xander. He always did.

Xander never could hide anything from him.