Spike grimaced as he looked out at the cemetery ahead of him, inhaling for a long minute to get a sense of the place. The moonlight bounced off the very few working streetlights on the other side of the street, leaving most of the cemetery in darkness. The Slayer wasn't here, that he was certain of. Probably still with her gang at this hour or maybe just patrolling, without her two besties. He scowled and ambled deeper into the dark cemetery, keeping an eye out for new risers and other monsters.

It had been an hour since he had left Willy's bar and his stomach growled, curling in thirst. Of course the orgasm had been pretty good, had distracted him for a few minutes, but his hunger had come back with a vengeance. He snorted at the thought and kept walking, glancing up at the moon and the stars, idly wondering if he could dig up anything on the guy who had given him a hand. Maybe literally. The guy had said he wasn't a demon, wasn't a necromancer, but he smelled like… death. And Harry wasn't a vampire.

His demon had outright began to purr when Harry had touched him, both to look over his bruises and to get him off. And Spike had never felt anything like that, not with Drusilla and not with Angelus. Any sex with Harry had been better than what Angelus had given him. Or not given him.

His duster swayed with his movements as he stalked over long overgrown graves, past cracked stones that were long indecipherable. He stopped at one of the bigger mausoleums and dug into his pocket for a smoke, idly lighting up. The growl that echoed from inside made him grin as he reached for his dagger, almost aching for a good fight.

He'd gone and picked a fight with another demon the minute he realized he could, a week ago, after that pathetic attempt at an apocalypse by those demons. Another growl coiled past the stone and huge thudding footsteps followed it. The door of the mausoleum opened up and a giant version of the demons he had fought with came out, all giant, scaly, a huge tail twined around its legs.

"Well look at you," Spike remarked, dipping his head in a nod, already pinpointing the spots that might be a weak point. Throat, knees, what might have possibly been a huge reptilian cock, a tail that was twitching rapidly.

The demon bared its fangs at him, its three purple eyes flashing and roared angrily. His stomach curled and rumbled and in the minute before the demon charged, power rippled through the air. The demon froze, like a bug caught in a spider's web, paralyzed and Spike growled, turning around to face…

Harry stood in front of him, his messy black hair windblown, his green eyes intent on him and the demon behind him. Harry smelled of anger, a hot scent that filled the air, strong and loud. Though Spike could see just the faintest hint of amusement in his bright green eyes and maybe that anger wasn't directed at him. Fuck knows where it was directed to and Spike didn't care.

"Can't a man get proper dinner without being interrupted?" Spike hissed, throwing his cigarette off to the side.

"You really want to take that on?" Harry asked, faint amusement in his voice. "That? I'd even think twice about facing that. Though it's not like I wouldn't be able to."

Spike could see the demon's eyes flick between the two of them, eyes a little wide. "Yeah, cause you're human, mate. I'm not."

"I can see that. Even with you all bumpy like that," Harry retorted, gesturing at him.

"Hey! I'm taking offense!"

Harry shrugged and winked at him. "If you wanted blood, all you had to do was ask. I'm human."

Spike glanced at the demon between them and took a step towards Harry, tucking his dagger back in a pocket. Harry followed his gaze and then flicked his wrist. The demon howled, newly freed from whatever Harry had done to it, and hissed at them, showing a forked red tongue and sharp teeth and… Harry hurriedly hissed back, low rough noises that sounded like a snake. Spike shivered at the sound, as Harry's voice went straight to his dick, swallowing against arousal.

He wasn't a newborn vamp, damnit.

After a minute or two the demon growled and then retreated back into the mausoleum, its tail twitching angrily. Harry waved back cheerfully, an amused grin on his face, and then turned back to Spike, lifting an eyebrow.

"I know about what the Initiative did to you," Harry remarked, meeting his eyes.

"Fuck off. I can handle getting blood on my own," Spike retorted, sweeping his duster tighter around his shoulders.

"The chip won't activate with me. I'm human but I'm not… you know… 100% human. My blood will still taste good, still taste human."

Spike looked at the man in front of him, glaring at him. "Who told you? I bet it was Giles, that bastard. And I helped him when he turned into a demon too."

"Buffy told me you had been chipped."

"The Slayer again! I'm gonna kill her," Spike muttered, shaking his head. "For good this time."

"I can remove it," Harry offered quietly. "Never done brain surgery before but I've done everything else. Magically speaking of course."

Spike stilled before rocking back on the heels of his feet. He narrowed his eyes even as he took a step towards Harry, who stayed right where he was. "Really."

"Yep."

"What's the catch?"

Harry blinked before shaking his head. "There's no catch. You can't defend yourself or feed. And humans are the majority species. Then there's the Initiative and they're all human. You need to be 100% here. Besides, this can't have made you very popular with the other local vampires."

Harry made a hand wavy gesture, as if he was meaning all of this planet, and Spike twitched, looking the man over. "You were gone for two months except at Willie's."

"I was looking for any traces of…" Harry trailed off, taking a deep breath before sighing, his eyes darkening. "Look. Do you want me to remove that chip or not?"

"For traces of what?" Spike questioned, taking another step towards Harry, stalking towards him. Harry continued to stay right where he was, shoulders loose, totally uncaring, and Spike hissed.

"For the record, you'd totally be scary if it wasn't me," Harry remarked, shrugging. "As it is… Well."

"Could you just pretend then? For my pride? Cause…" Spike paused, smirking at the man. "It's all this vampire has."

Harry snorted and then put his hand over his heart like it was beating fast in fright. "Ahhh! A vampire! I'm gonna die! Oh, woe is me. He's gonna drink my blood and get away with it! I'm seeing my whole life flash before my eyes!"

Spike laughed and then took another step, closing the distance. He inhaled sharply, trying to get Harry's scent, smelling that delicious scent that attracted so many vampires. His eyes zeroed in on the pulse point at Harry's neck, seeing it beat steadily. Harry's eyes were full of amusement, lit up, and half sparking with interest.

Harry smelled good and he smelled obviously of alcohol, though not like he himself had been drinking. Harry worked at Willie's, for fuck's sake, so of course he smelled like that. He smelled like wood, a kind of older wood that Spike hadn't scented before, and like something else too, something like what that magic shop in downtown Sunnydale smelled like. Full of fake potion ingredients for fake witches and wizards and then that basement full of real ingredients.

Harry held out his hand and lifted an eyebrow. "Best do this in private, I think."

Spike leered at the guy, winking at him and took his hand. Harry snorted in amusement, half a challenge in his eyes, and curled his warm fingers over his before something, some power, curled around him and tugged. Spike yelped and stopped breathing, closing his eyes, one minute in the cemetery and the next they were in an apartment.

Harry's fingers tightened in his before pulling away, his footsteps striding away. "You can open your eyes now. We're just at my apartment."

Spike opened his eyes and purposefully inhaled sharply, breathing just so that Harry wouldn't… He felt Harry's power shiver around him before withdrawing, flowing back into the walls of the apartment. Spike's eyes widened at the amount of power that radiated from the walls, from the rooms around him. It was a nice looking apartment, modern furniture filling it, from a comfortable looking couch that faced a television to shiny new appliances in the kitchen. There was a spiral staircase in the corner of the living room, one that looked like it led up to a loft.

"I'm not gonna freak out at the non breathing," Harry offered, as he walked into the kitchen across from him. There were floor to ceiling windows behind him that let him look out at downtown Sunnydale, let him see the stars up in the sky and the bright moon. It was a cloudy night, with stars trying to shine through the clouds and mostly succeeding. "Hey, does this world have werewolves too?"

"You looking to fuck one?" Spike asked, watching as Harry walked over to the counter across from him and leaned against it, his arms tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "Cause let me tell you, mate. They're hairier than you think."

Harry snorted, his lips twitching in amusement, and shook his head. "You speaking from experience?"

"Nah. Red dated a werewolf," Spike muttered, grinning at the memory. "Didn't end well. You gonna stand just stand there?"

Harry's eyes flashed darkly before he beckoned with a finger. "If you want blood, feel free. You gonna answer my previous question?"

"Now what previous question would that be?"

"You want me to remove that chip or not?"

Spike hissed and stalked forward, pushed his duster off and threw it onto the couch. Harry just watched him, heat making his eyes dark, arousal tainting the air with heat. Spike stepped up close and crowded Harry into the counter, watching as Harry tipped his chin up, baring pale skin and a beating pulse and…

He struck right as one of Harry's arms curled around his waist, sliding his fangs in, slipping through skin and tasting that first drop of blood. And waited. Waited for a blinding headache but none came and Spike growled happily, drinking up more blood. Harry sucked in a deep breath before his arm tightened around his waist, not pushing him away, not freezing in fear.

"Slow," Harry whispered rough, low with desire and Spike grinned, feeling the other man's cock harden against him. "I'm gonna… Fuck."

It was delicious and everything that cold bagged blood wasn't. Full of emotion and life and Spike nearly purred at the taste of it, swallowing one mouthful after another. Harry's other arm curled around him, holding him in place as he tasted the spicy flavor of desire. He drank for another minute, reveling in the taste of it, the warmth of it, before he slowed down and pulled out. Spike stayed in the crook of Harry's neck for a moment, inhaling and memorizing his scent as he licked at the wound once, twice. Harry shivered at the movement, fingers flexing on his hip. The bite wound slowly healed under his eyes, skin knitting together.

He hadn't tasted anything that he didn't like but… Harry's blood was a heady mixture of power and desire, hot and full of confidence. There was no evidence of fear, either in Harry's blood or his scent, and it made something loosen beneath his ribs. Not his heart cause that had stopped beating the night he had died but something.

"You good?" Harry finally asked on what sounded like a dry throat.

Spike grinned as Harry licked his lips and stared at him, his green eyes wide.

"You got a little something," Harry muttered, reaching out with a thumb and swiping away his own blood from Spike's mouth.

Spike winked at the man and swiped his tongue out to lick at Harry's finger, hearing the man's heart skip several beats. Harry groaned and looked at him, searching for something, before tugging him straight into a kiss. Spike whined and arched into Harry, as Harry's tongue brushed against his mouth, asking without words.

In answer, Spike opened his mouth and brushed his own tongue against Harry's, as sparks brushed against his vision. His own heart beat loudly and thumped against his ribcage hard, making him gasp, even as Harry deepened the kiss. It was hot and wet and bloody and Harry wasn't at all scared off.

Harry was the one to pull back after a minute, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his forehead and his back, judging by the scent. His pupils were now full blown, black edging out the green, and he swore. Spike grinned back.

"Don't need oxygen," Spike remarked, swallowing the last remnants of blood and licking his lips.

"Apparently," Harry muttered, taking in a deep mouthful of air and running a hand through his hair. "Okay. We're gonna remove that chip of yours before this… thing goes any further."

"What if I want it to go further?" Spike asked, grinning at him. "You taste good."

"Oh, well thanks," Harry said, shrugging and then rolling his eyes. "I guess. Come on."

"Oooh. You keep the witch stuff up there?"

"No. The bed's up there," Harry retorted, already backing Spike up and walking back over to the spiral staircase. "I'm gonna knock you out."

"Kinky."

Harry snorted. "You know… Xander said that you had been roommates. Care to share?"

"Nah. I like my privacy."

Spike watched as Harry's shoulders lifted in a small shrug, hearing him make a small noise under his breath. He followed him up the staircase and crossed his arms at the top, taking in the loft in front of him. The bed that lay in the center of the room was big and comfortable looking, with quality sheets and quilt.

"Not gonna do anything you don't want done, okay?" Harry said, his green eyes gone soft and at least a little glowy. He stood beside the bed, his arms at his sides, casual, like he wasn't about to perform magical brain surgery.

Spike nodded, swallowing, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Just don't experiment on me, yeah?"

"You have my blood in you, Spike. What did I taste like?"

"Didn't taste any lies."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You can taste that?"

"Yeah. What do you think makes blood taste good? The actual flavor of it?" Spike retorted, gesturing to Harry's neck and chest, where his heart beat steadily. Or rapidly. It was almost intoxicating, scenting the blood running through Harry's body and being able to taste life again. Taste emotions again.

Harry grinned at him and then took a step towards him, padding over to slide onto the bed. Spike lay down and looked right up into Harry's eyes, watching as Harry reached out a finger, tapping his forehead.