Xander wonders if his parents got out of Sunnydale. He knows that most of the town was deserted, but he also knows that his father is stubborn, and wasn't going to leave the town he grew up in, even if it was a shit hole.
Xander suddenly wonders how his father survived. Forty-eight years of Hellmouth living, staying even when Xander's grandmother, Muriel, had the good sense to get out after her second husband died from the same barbeque-fork as the first. Forty-eight years without a demon-sighting, an inkling of the strange things that went down in the little town he'd live his whole life in. Forty-eight years with a generation of mayors from the same family, the same name, and the exact same look.
Xander wonders how his father could have been so stupid, and if he'd finally had the sense to get out of town before the whole thing imploded.
Xander wonders who else didn't get out. He's heard by now that Spike was in L.A., from Willow, who heard it from Fred, neither of them having the guts to tell Buffy just yet. Xander wonders how Spike managed to come back, if Spike knew what happened to the Sunnydale residents who didn't pack up and get the hell out of dodge.
Xander wonders if he should go to L.A. Tell the girls, the hundreds upon hundreds of girls, and Giles and Andrew, that he needs a little more testosterone, then going to see Angel and Wesley and Spike and the other people that Willow tells him live in Angel's city, running an evil law firm.
Xander wonders if he could be a security guard. He could probably do data entry, or something, too, if he wanted, though he wonders if the strain on his eye staring at a computer screen all day would bother him.
Xander wonders why Spike is the reason he wants to go.
Spike wonders when he won't have to worry about being sucked back into Hell anymore. Wonders how the Slayer groupies are doing, if Fred's getting enough sleep amidst the chaos in her lab. Wonders if she's going to find another answer soon.
He wonders if the scoobies know he's back, albeit only halfway. He wonders if they would come if they knew. He wonders why he's hurt that they're not here, when they didn't much care for him anyway.
Wonders why he still feels that way, after they treated him pretty decently, not counting Robin and Rupert.
Spike wonders why they haven't come.
He wonders if the rest of them got out all right. Wonders why he's afraid to ask Angel who's alive and who's dead. Wonders if Angel would think he was less heartless if he asked about more than just Buffy. Spike wonders why Angel thinking there's good in him after all bothers him.
Spike wonders if he can ask one of the others. Wonders if Fred knows, wonders if she cares. Way she talks, Spike knows she thinks fairly highly of Red, wonders if Fred even knows the others. Wonders if Fred ever wanted to know them.
Spike wonders if Willow and Kennedy both made it, and if they broke up yet. Wonders why he doesn't think they'll last.
Spike wonders if Xander's okay. If he and Anya finally got back together for good. Wonders if Xander would come, even just to see if he was really back.
Xander wonders how he got here. Wonders how he’d finally convinced himself to visit Angel’s city, wonders how Fred managed to figure out the secret to making Spike real again. Xander wonders why he deserves this. Xander wonders what made Spike look at him that way, what made him look at Spike that way.
Xander wonders how he got to be so fucking happy.
Xander wonders why he doesn’t miss his eye anymore, why it’s like a piece of him was missing and it wasn’t the blackness in that little socket, but now that emptiness, all of it, was full to bursting. Xander wonders how Spike did it.
Xander wonders why he didn’t do this before. Wonders how he could have hidden such a deep part of himself from himself, wonders how no one else saw it because when he looks back he can’t figure out how he didn’t know.
Xander wonders if this is going to last. He wonders if he wants it to. Wonders how he lived without it.
Xander wonders how Spike can sleep so deeply in his arms. Wonders why he’s so much more comfortable when the heat is being drained from him slowly, wonders how he ever thought an air conditioner could compare.
He wonders when Spike’s going to wake up, if he’ll feel the same as before when Spike kisses him, can’t wait to find out.
He wonders if this is the happiness he’s been craving, and why it’s taken so long to get here, and how long he can keep it. He wonders if Spike’s as happy right now, in sleep, as he is, watching him sleep.
Spike wakes and wonders why Xander’s mouth tastes so good. Wonders if Xander came specifically to see him, and why it took so long for them to tumble into bed together. He wonders if he can keep Xander here for very long.
Spike wonders why he could never see Xander, really see him, until he couldn’t see him anymore. Spike wonders how long Xander can go without air, decides not to test it and lets him breathe, or rather gasp for air, while he mouths gently at the hot skin of his new lover’s throat. Spike wonders if Xander can think clearly, since he certainly can’t at the moment.
Spike wonders if happiness is really fleeting, and when the ball’s going to drop or the other shoe’s going to hit the floor and all of this will end, all the happiness and the pleasure and the sudden aching need to taste Xander’s lips again are all going to disappear like smoke in the night, wonders why he hasn’t been able to hold onto happiness and if this time will be different.
Spike wonders why he doesn’t care, and slowly presses into his lover, astounded at the heat and this embodiment of joining, two souls, two bodies, two hearts, puzzle pieces and perfect, peaceful bliss. Spike’s mind is racing, raving, but completely unintelligible. He presses deeper, marveling at the sensations Xander can awaken in him, and Spike doesn’t have to wonder why he’s so gentle with this sweet, kind-hearted sable-haired man.
Spike wonders how he never knew perfect happiness until now.