Dumped, alone, wasted, and cold, Xander wandered through town. He had way too much whisky in his system but it wasn't nearly enough to keep his mind off the sore subject. Anya had left, gone, in the dead of night with all her stuff and a few of Xander's too, He stumbled around in self loathing, why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut? What was wrong with him? Whatever it was it had taken his life out of his control, sometimes he blamed buffy, his life wouldn't be so crazy if it wasn't for buffy, but it always occurs to him that if it wasn't for buffy he would be dead. Xander heaved a sigh and then proceed to make his way toward the Crypt. He was greeted by the resident's chiseled face as he tripped through the door. The vampire caught him and held him up for a moment. Xander could swear he saw a flash of concern on his face, but hey that was probably the alcohol talking. Spike let him go and he fell backward landing flat on his ass with an 'oof'

"So this is it then" Spike said walking towards the center of the morbid home. Xander gave him a confused look, which is to say he looked at him, a permanent confused face being a result of the whisky. "Always figured it'd be you" He said reaching into his coffin. "It seems you haven't come prepared"

"whada you taking about?" Xander slurred. Spike smirked as he brought a wooden stake into sight and rolled it toward where Xander sat on the floor.

"On with it then" Spike prompted as he closed his eyes and spread his arms leaving his chest vulnerable, his heart there for the staking. He stood a moment before opening his eyes. Xander was standing but the stake remained on the floor. "well" The vampire said expectantly.

"You think i'm gonna kill ya" Xander said.

"Well i bloody well can't" Spike retorted, motioning to the place where the chip lay concealed in his brain. "or what do you just want throw me around a little? Just a punching bag am i?" Spike took a few long strides toward the other man. He was right in front of his, tight jawed and giving his best intimidating glare. "Do your worst Harris" Xander was swaying a bit in front of him. He was hesitant, terrified even. The vampire was right there, right in front of him, ready to be hurt, killed even, standing at his mercy and accepting his apparent fate willingly.

Xander took in a breath, even with the amount of alcohol in his system this was terrifying, he tried and talk himself out of it but in the end pure instinct won over. He threw his hands around Spike neck and brought their lips together with an intensity even he didn't expect. Spike's eyes flew open, he glanced around the crypt for signs of the gang, this had to be a joke, this had to be a prank. When no one turned up he became overly aware of his hands then he felt a tongue slip in between his lips and he gave in. Closing his eyes he eased into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Xander's shoulders, the taste of whiskey was everywhere. Xander could taste the smoke on Spike's breath from his last cigerette which drove him to kiss him even deeper than before. Xander's head moved along in perfect time with Spike's. After a second Spike pulled away and took a step back.

"Whoa" he said smoothing his hair back. Xander took a step closer and leaned in for a second kiss but Spike side-stepped out of the way. "Boy are you gonna regret this in the morning" Spike said.

"Anya left" Xander blurted. Whiskey didn't leave much room for tact. Spike cocked a brow, encouraging him to proceed. "I toold her about the thing and she left"

"What thing? Actually you know what never mind" Spike took hold of Xander's shoulders and lead the man to the worn old couch in front of the small television. "Sit" Spike encouraged. Xander fell sloppy into the couch, which drooped slightly under his weight.

"She just took off without so much as a goodbye" Xander said with a sniffle. "Can't even blame 'er" he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Lie down" Spike commanded, laying a beat up pillow behind Xander's head. Xander obliged shifting his weight making the couch creak.

"Its all your fault" Xander accused with a yawn. "Damn cheekbones" he muttered closing his eyes and curling into the pillow.