Disclaimer: all characters belong to Joss. No money is being made, yadda yadda.

Author’s notes: set during season 6, although I haven’t seen too many of the season 6 episodes yet. Spike’s not in love with Buffy, because yak! Pleugh! It’s just not right people! Can’t you see that? Just goes to prove that Joss isn’t 100% infallible. Also, Xander didn’t fall in love with Anya, and still lives in the basement. So our little scene is set.

Spoilers: “Once More With Feeling”, complete with my own version of one or two of the songs. I didn’t go overboard with the whole musical thing though, coz who wants to read millions of songs? ('Course y'all could just sing aloooong.)

More author’s notes: Irrefutable proof that, with only two years of steeling yourself, you too can write dubious quality PalmostWP slash fic! I made a bet with myself that I couldn't do it. Well I couldn't lose a bet like that, could I? I even made it a little naughty. If anyone that knows me reads this... I'm sorry! *Blush* (And if you look closely, you may just spot my extraneous usage of the words ‘whelp’, ‘pet’ and ‘boy’.) Hurrah!

Even more author’s notes: whatever your own personal take is on the temperature of the vampire body and it’s relation to the heat of its surroundings, this is my universe, and the laws of physics and/or magic apply the way I want them to. (That’ll make sense when you read.)

Dedication: to all the slash writers in this fandom who wrote well enough to make me read in the first place - without you my mind would be a safer place to live. Much safer.

Rating: NC-17!!

Also: # italics # indicates a song and " " indicates dialogue from the show

~~~

Chapter 1

Spike: Like I'd bite you anyway.
Xander: Oh you would.
Spike: Not bloody likely.
Xander: I happen to be very biteable pal. I'm moist and delicious.
Spike: Alright, yeah, fine you're a nummy treat.
Xander: And don't you forget it.
~ Hush

Xander: Can you believe this!? Like I'm some sort of useless lunk. It happens I'm good at a lot of things. I help out with all kinds of... stuff. I have skills... and... stratagems. I'm very... (looks at Anya) Help me out.
Anya: (nonchalantly) He's Viking in the sack.
Spike: (not caring) Terrific.
~ the Yoko Factor

Xander ran a hand through damp, sweaty hair and sighed. In his humble opinion, Californian summers royally sucked. The temperature had been in the high 90s for over a week now, and he had been slowly going crazy. The crappy air conditioner he had installed in the basement had picked tonight of all nights to give up the ghost; wheezing and spluttering its dying breath over an hour ago.

So Xander, perhaps foolishly, had decided to go for a walk. Reasoning that it couldn’t be any hotter outside than it was in his oven of a basement, he grabbed a lightweight T-shirt, stuck his feet into some sneakers and ventured outdoors, sending a silent prayer to the kind and benevolent weather gods in the hope that they would send a cool breeze his way.

He was so sick, tired and grouchy from the heat that tonight any vampires who crossed his path had either better kill him straight away, or at least put up a good fight. He fingered the sharp stake he had tucked in one of his belt loops and wondered if the heat really was driving him nuts. On the odd and highly infrequent occasions that he actually went looking for a fight, it was good to know that Buffy was somewhere nearby, or he had a slightly better plan than just ‘Try and bite me. I have a stake’.

Tonight, he was on his own. No one knew he was here. No one at all.

A little lopsided grin appeared on his lips at the thought. All alone, left to his own devices. No one at his back. Tonight he was in a lone star state of mind. Or a crazy, suicidal state of mind. One or the other, but it still felt pretty good, despite the heat.

Although he wondered if he was worrying over nothing, for their deceptively innocent little town was exceptionally quiet for once. A good night to try and take your life in your hands he decided. A nice night for a walk. Perhaps creatures of the night didn’t like the heat either, and were hiding away inside marvellously air-conditioned crypts and lairs. He’d bet that they wouldn’t have crappy air conditioning that broke down on the hottest night of the year. Nope, the undead had it good.

Definitely.

‘Cause it was goddamn hot. Really, really fry-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk, melt-the-sole-off-your-shoe hot.

Good thing Angel’s not around. What with the sole melting. You know, sole/soul...

He sighed. You know it’s bad when you start explaining jokes to yourself, Harris.

Taking the battered plastic water bottle from his back pocket, Xander raised it to his lips, letting the last mouthful of warm water soothe his mouth. Shaking the last few drops from it, he tossed it towards the nearest garbage can.

Yes! Nothing but net, and the crowd goes wild!

His little victory dance was cut short by the fact that it was too damn hot to be strutting his stuff tonight, so he stopped and looked around him, realising for the first time just how far he’d walked from home. He ran his hand over his forehead wearily, and wasn’t surprised when his fingers touched the sheen of sweat there. Turning around lethargically, he set one hot, sneakered foot in front of the other and began to make his way home.

He sighed again. The journey home stretched out in front of him like a desert highway. He was starting to see visions of ice cold baths. Of relaxing in the gently lapping water while the nubile young house servants would bring him iced drinks and dab tenderly at his heated brow with moist cloths, straight from the ice box.

What? A man can dream, can’t he? Although he knew he would have to settle for an ice-cold coke and a lukewarm shower, but he could deal. He’d be home in what... half an hour? It had only taken him that long to come this far.

No problem.

~~~

Forty-seven minutes later, Xander leant heavily back against the surprisingly cool redbrick wall of the church which stood halfway between where he had been, and where he wanted to be. In other words, home.

He stretched his neck up and spread his arms back against the bricks, willing them to soak up some of his heat.

Okay Xander, here’s a little life lesson for you - don’t go out for a quick solo-slay when the temperature’s going to hit ninety-nine any second now. And how the hell can it still be so hot at night, anyway? Stupid hellmouth.

In his annoyance, he kicked the ground beneath his feet, hoping that somehow the shock waves would travel and grow in strength until they reached the hellmouth and gave it a good kick up whatever passed for its ass.

Yeah, way to beat up on the hellmouth, Xander.

With a groan, he grabbed the hem of his damp T-shirt and lifted it over his head. He then used the garment to wipe at his face and chest before dropping it to the ground and pressing himself back against the wall, trying to cool down. An absent hand ran over his chest, testing the difference in temperature between his own skin and the bricks he leant against. There was a little difference, but not much, and so as he trailed his fingers throught the damply curling hair he made the decision to remain firmly plastered against this wall for as long as it took him to cool down enought to make the journey home. Even if that meant staying all night. That was just fine with him.

So long as there was no more walking in the heat. One more minute and he would have dropped to his knees, crawling along like in those Bugs Bunny cartoons where they get stranded in the desert, begging for ‘Water.... water...’ or in Bugs’ case, ‘Carrots... carrots...’.

Huh-heh-hee ...carrots.

Wishing for the tenth time that he hadn’t worn his baggy cutoff denims (comfortable but just too damn hot) he leant back against the wall and blinked the sweat from his eyelashes. Letting his eyes fall closed, he undid the top button of the shorts and wiggled the material around, unsticking it from the damp skin of his waist. This done, he let his hand rest on his stomach, feeling the play of the muscles under his skin with each breath he took. Those hard earned muscles that he had ached for everyday on the various building sites around Sunnydale. The same muscles that were starting to earn him more than just the occasional admiring look from the ladies of the town, and one or two from the men as well.

Appreciative! Appreciative looks from the men, not admiring. You are not an object of lust to men. Ok? Alright? Good, glad we’ve got that straightened out. I have an evil, evil brain. Taking me places that I so do not want to go. I am not curious. I do not notice them looking. I do not need any more complications in my life.

A cool, clear and disobedient voice sounded in his head.

~ So why did you turn Anya down when she all but threw herself at you? ~

He answered it in a voice that was just as cool and calm.

I didn’t turn her down. We slept together, remember? Remember why she's the reason I still blush every single time the spin cycle starts up? I turned her down after that because she just wanted to get laid. Frequently. Continuously. After she’d got me “out of her system”, she was looking for orgasms, from anyone, and no one man can have that much energy.

She didn’t want me, and she didn’t lose too much sleep over it when I did turn her down. Remember? She’s off screwing some polgara demon now because they have more stamina. Or are fabulously well endowed, or something. I didn’t really want to know the details. What I did want was just somebody who wanted me. Who wanted me for me, and not just a warm body. I don’t think that’s so much to ask for.

The cool, clear little voice didn’t appear to have a reply to this, and left Xander alone once more.

Typical. Jiminy Cricket picks tonight to put in an appearance. Like he couldn’t speak up before I get myself into these predicaments. Nooo, he just comes back to taunt me afterwards. Why am I the one who gets the tardy conscience?

The night heavy around him, he swallowed and licked dry lips. Behind closed eyes he listened to the sounds of the night, these too changed by the oppressive heat. From his elevated position beside the old church, he could hear the constant low drone of the highway traffic in the distance. He could hear the cricket’s singing to him, at a seemingly lower pitch than usual, their playing less frenzied. Perhaps, he reasoned, they were feeling sluggish in the heat too. All the familiar sounds of the Sunnydale night laid out before him and around him now sounding muted and hazy.

Standing there, blind to the night, he felt the unsatisfactory cool on his back and a bead of sweat run slowly down his chest. It was a pleasant feeling standing there, completely alone. He felt like he was all at once everywhere and only within himself. This was his night, alone with the heat and sweat he could hear all things around him, and for just a moment he felt free.

The peaceful moment passed abruptly when the one thing he hadn’t heard in his omnipotent unity with the world arrived, and spoke to him.

‘Well, well, what’s this then? Out for a little midnight streak are we?’

Embarrassed that someone had found him in this position, Xander’s eyes snapped open and confirmed what his ears were telling him. Not six feet away, uncanny ability to show up at the worst possible moment intact, stood Spike.

The vampire had one eyebrow arched and was watching Xander complete with trademark sardonic expression. Xander had never met anyone, living or dead, who could be so completely patronising without having to say a word. Unfortunately, Spike didn’t stop at just a condescending look. He also liked to talk, and Xander had been insulted more times than he cared to remember by the now annoyingly familiar deep British voice.

Goddamn vampires. Sneaking around on their silent creature of the night tippy-toes. They should all be forced to wear bells.

It was safe to say that on the whole, Xander was not overjoyed to see him. Or to see him wearing leather in this heat. Leather and layers of cotton and denim. It was official; vampires had it good.

Xander glared at him. Sometimes he really envied the undead.

Sometimes.

It was remarkably unfair, in Xander’s humble opinion. Spike looked far too cool, temperature wise, standing there in the moonlight which, incidentally, always made him look the palest. And smoothest.

Smoothest? Well, ok, yeah, I guess he does look kind of smooth. If a person were to notice that kind of thing... which I obviously just have. Okaaay. The inner monologues with which to confuse yourself are wearing a little thin now, Xander.

Taking the last drag from one of his ever-present cigarettes, Spike threw it to the ground and stepped on it while he continued to smirk at the flushed human. He took another step or two forward, head tilted slightly to the side as the remains of the smoke drifted from his nose and mouth, and leisurely looked the boy up and down.

Xander watched as those mocking eyes travelled the length of him and just knew that he was thinking up some smart comment to make, to try and make Xander as uncomfortable as possible. But the strange thing was, instead of being irritated, or embarrassed, or any of the million negative emotions he should have been feeling, Xander simply relaxed against the wall.

And he *felt* something.

Something a little strange, but good. Definitely good. And it was getting stronger.

‘You out all by yourself, sport? Spike asked, a lazy smile on his face. ‘You know, prancing around half-dressed in a town like this at night is a sure way to call lots of unwanted attention to yourself.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Xander countered, feeling strangely sure of himself. He pushed himself lightly off the wall with his shoulders, relinquishing it’s coolness for just a moment to look Spike right in the eye.

‘Maybe I want the attention,’ he said in a low voice that made them both blink. He let his body fall back against the wall and realised that he was once again spread out against it like some sort of sacrificial offering, his neck bared, damp chest stretched out to allow all of his back contact with the wall, taut stomach pulled in firm, arms outstretched, palms pressed against the stones.

I must look ridiculous.

Xander almost laughed out loud when he realised he couldn’t have cared less.

Hearing the compelling tone of Xander’s voice, which was followed swiftly by the somewhat self-congratulatory smirk on the boy’s face, Spike’s jaw clenched in annoyance.

What the hell is the whelp playing at here?

It was Spike’s turn to glare. He didn’t like not knowing the rules to whatever game Xander was playing. He was the one who messed with the minds of the Scoobies, and not the other way around. True, Xander had managed to get in one or two good digs in the past, tying him to that chair and those oh-so-inventive fangless insults to name but a few, but while the boy had won the skirmishes - in the war of mind games, Spike was the Ultimate Fighting Champion.

So exactly what game were they playing at here? And why the hell was the kid still smiling at him?

Xander swallowed roughly as he watched the play of emotions over the vampire’s face. He saw confusion, anger, something that looked strangely like confident superiority, and then back to confusion. In this heat, that sort of thinking would have given Xander one hell of a headache. As it was, most of his higher motor skills were currently offline. “Fire bad. Tree pretty” was about the height of it, or in this case - Touch cold things. Grin at Spike.

Spike, meanwhile, was getting angrier by the second. He took another step forwards and took his glare up a notch or two.

‘Well, you’ve got my attention, boy. Question is, what are you going to do with it?’

Touch cold things. Grin at Spike.

Taking one of his hands from the wall, Xander closed the distance between them and gently pressed his fingers to the indentation at the base of Spike’s throat, visible above the first few open buttons of his dark blue shirt.

Blue, huh, Spike must be branching out.

The unnatural skin was blessedly cool beneath his touch, and Xander ran his callused fingertips gently downwards, watching them intently, until they caught on the first button of the shirt. Hooking his fingers loosely on the material there, Xander lifted his almost drowsy gaze from the pale skin to Spike’s face.

What the bloody. Fucking. Hell. Does he think he is doing?

Spike grabbed Xander’s hand as harshly as he could without setting off the chip, but the fury in his eyes spoke volumes about the pain he would have inflicted if he was able. Bending the offending arm backwards and away from him, Spike spoke in a harsh, angry whisper.

‘What are you playing at, Xander?’

The infuriatingly lazy grin didn’t falter as Xander looked at the scolding lips, then back to angry, clear blue eyes, complaining quietly - ‘I’m hot.’

‘And?!’ Spike asked, exasperated.

‘Cool me down.’ Xander replied in a longing whisper, wondering vaguely if he really had lost his mind. Somehow it didn’t seem so important at this precise moment if he had. Somehow he had just asked Spike to cool him down, which was crazy enough, but the really crazy thing was that now all he cared about was how the scowling vampire was going to answer him.

Spike, meanwhile, was trying to kick his brain into gear. It couldn’t just have happened, but he was pretty sure the boy had just asked Spike to cool him down. In a 'cool me down via the medium of some forbidden naughty touching' sort of way. He managed to coax his stalled brain into a shaky first gear just in time to notice that Xander’s face (...lips...) wasn’t very far away from him at all, and apparently he was completely serious.

Not far at all.

All at once he found himself with an armful of warm Xander. More than that, the boy was kissing him.

Kissing.

Him.

Slow at first. Uncertain. Tasting. Testing. The slide of a hot tongue along his lips. The salty sweet tang of sweat. Pausing. Waiting for a response. Spike opened his mouth to growl at the boy to get the hell off him, to stop playing this crazy game, but that proved to be a mistake. The wicked tongue was inside his mouth, running along his blunt teeth, lips being toyed with and kissed with growing intensity.

Xander’s kisses became deeper as he clung to Spike, letting the shocked vampire’s strength hold them both up as he happily tangled himself around the living statue of coolness and relief from the scorching heat.

Riiiiight. You’re making out with Spike because you’re warm.

Xander wasn’t foolish. He had had his heart stomped on too many times before to believe in romance and roses and love at first, and god knows he wasn’t looking for any of these things now. The lust part of this strangeness that was happening he understood. Sort of. So he was kissing a man for the first time ever. He’d evidently chosen Spike to bestow this honour upon. These were... strange things. Xander accepted that. He lived on a hellmouth. These things happened. He could deal with strange.

Everyone and their mother seemed to be schmooching with the non-human types these days. Hell, these days, practically all of even the human types he knew were magical. Or Slayers, ex-demons, werewolves, super-powered, you name it, we got it. Come one, come all to the hellmouth extravaganza of freaks, geeks... and Xander Harris.

So this? Perfectly acceptable. External stimulation and your body reacts.

Want. Take. Simple.

No life altering consequences to be dealt with here. Maybe tomorrow, and for the rest of his natural life... sure. But at the minute? Nope, nada, zip. Consequences, schmonsequences. Xander was simply doing what came naturally and he would deal with the consequences later.

Much later.

Romance? Love? With a man? With Spike!? Hardly. He just had to get his hot little hands on that coolness. That hard, muscular coolness. Like now. This second. He wanted something primitive, something he didn’t have to think about. Do it because it felt good. He was invoking his inner-Faith and it felt great.

It would feel even better if Spike would kiss him back.

At least he hasn’t pushed me away. ‘Cause that would be ever so slightly embarrassing. Plus, I’d have to let go of him and I’m still too warm. Oooh, lookie, I can think in whole sentences again... and yet I'm still pressed against Spike... and he still hasn't pushed me away. But that’d be okay if he did. I mean, I can’t see Spike making a big deal out of this. Nope, not at all, ‘cause me jumping on him and rubbing myself against him... rubbing? Oh god, I’m rubbing. There’s definite rubbing, and it’s of the full body kind. Oh boy. That one might have been a grind, maybe even a thrust. Oh boy. But that’s not a big deal at all, not something he’d hold over my head - ohh, just about forever, and besides...

Xander’s thoughts suddenly stopped dead, as Spike chose that particular moment to move. He didn’t push Xander away, but he did let go of the hand that had touched him so intimately only a moment ago. As shocked blue eyes drifted closed and his hands settled on the slightly damp denim covering the young man’s hips, Spike began to kiss him back.

... besides... um... beside... oh god. Touch cold things... Spike.

It had been a long, long time since Spike had done this. Too long. Painful memories of years long past flashed through his mind until he managed to swat them away from him and concentrate on the now. How long had it been since someone had touched him like this? Spells and Harmony notwithstanding. This was unexpected and quite delicious. It had also managed to shock the hell out of him and was something he could very well get himself staked over. In other words, something he would throw himself headlong into and worry about the consequences later.

Female lips and soft curves? Yes, he had tasted that. Passion like this?

Too long.

Through the haze of cool kisses, Xander slowed in his assault to match Spike’s kiss. Those beautifully curved, rapidly warming lips moved against his own, Xander mewled deep in his throat, pressing himself closer towards the vampire. In response to the needy sound, those lips parted for him, and a cool, oh so cool tongue came out to slide against his own.

The leather duster Spike wore seemed to want to envelop both of them as Xander’s eager arms wound themselves inside, searching out more of that delicious cool beneath. He felt the wall press up against his back once more as Spike took an unsteady step forwards, tripping slightly over a worn sneaker as he did so. Xander barely noticed.

He had to get closer. Now. Bringing his hands back to the front of the blue shirt, Xander undid the remainder of the buttons as quickly as he could, pulling the material apart, revealing that smooth muscled skin to his greedy touch. The skin he’d seen only glimpses of before, usually when Spike was injured and wanted them to patch him up, or had had his clothes ripped from one fight or another, or on that one occasion when they’d caught Spike doing his laundry in the basement and he’d had to wear Xander’s clothes.

It seemed so long ago. Not the same people. If only he’d known then. All those nights in the basement, tying Spike to that chair. If only...

If only he’d got to hear Spike’s growls of pleasure long before this. Growls of breath that made Xander’s gums (and other parts of his anatomy) tingle as the vampire’s kisses became hungry.

This was just... wow. Not soft like kissing a girl, rougher and more demanding, but could be tender as well. Xander’s head was spinning as he lost himself in the kiss. Spike knew exactly when to tease, and when to give Xander what he wanted. Xander put it down to all the years of practice, not to mention the mad monkey sex that vampires were supposed to have all the time.

Mad monkey sex...

Pulling his brain out of the gutter, which was much more difficult than usual at this particular moment in time, Xander realised that Spike’s hands had left the denim, and had slid around his bare waist, thumbs stroking gently at the base of his ribcage.

Their kiss slowed and Spike dropped his head softly onto Xander’s shoulder, and for just a moment, it felt to him as though Spike was shaking his head, before turning it slightly to nuzzle the boy’s throat with now heated lips. Opening his mouth, Spike slowly licked the salty skin there and scraped gently with his blunt teeth. A pang travelled sharply through Xander as the fear-filled pleasure hit him. Spike was a vampire, a vampire who was now orally attached to his neck, and while Xander knew... knew that he was safe, couldn’t be bitten, but somehow his body didn’t believe him.

He jerked his head back, bumping it slightly off the wall, and causing Spike to look up, and they stared at each other for the first time since the non-life-altering-no-consequences kiss had begun. Spike waited for a response. Kisses were well and good, but what did the boy really want? What exactly had been started here?

Wide eyes and shaky breaths through kiss-swollen lips made it obvious that they were both a little freaked out by what was happening. Xander knew he had been given a choice. This was the moment. They could stop now, and never speak of this again, or...

Spike lifted a hand to smooth back shaggy dark hair out of puppy dog eyes, and smiled. It was a wicked smile, and Spike being Spike just had to throw in a bit of a leer for good measure, Xander could see an honest question in his eyes.

He wanted this.

He wanted Xander.

Spike felt rather than saw the replying grin as Xander leant forward, lips colliding with lips once more. Cool hands snaked their way around Xander’s back to grab at his backside, pulling their bodies closer together, drawing moans from both of them. Disobedient fingers grabbed at Spike’s leather belt and fumbled with the buckle.

‘This is crazy,’ whispered Spike between kisses, more to himself than for the boy’s benefit.

‘I know. Shut up,’ Xander replied, surprising both of them for the second time that night as he grabbed the vampire’s shoulders and spun them both around to slam Spike up against the wall. Spike let out a happy grunt of approval at the action, then before Xander had time to draw breath, it was his turn to be attacked. Cold hands ran over hot, damp skin, mouths met hungrily as Spike pulled at lips and nipped gently with his blunt teeth.

The war with the belt buckle finally won, Xander paused, unsure of how to continue. Settling his hands on the slender hips in front of him, and tucking his fingers inside the denim, he kissed Spike once more.

‘Spike, I uh, I’ve never...’

In the limited space between the brick wall and Xander’s kisses, Spike pulled back with a knowing grin.

‘That’s alright, pet. I have.’

Placing a swift, yet surprisingly tender kiss on the tip of Xander’s nose, Spike dropped into a crouch in front of the boy. Xander looked down at the blonde hair in front of him and the white hands holding onto his thighs. Spike slowly raised his gaze from the crotch of Xander’s shorts to look upwards with another of those wicked smiles. Without looking away, he ran his tongue along the outline of Xander’s insistent erection through the denim, then leant forward to kiss the muscles of Xander’s stomach. The cool, teasing trail across his abdomen caused Xander to suck in a lung full of humid air as his head fell back and he had to bring his arms up to brace himself against the wall.

The kisses continued, working lower and lower as deft hands skimmed the length of his erection through the denim, teasing him mercilessly. More deep breaths were required, along with encouraging moans, as buttons were unfastened torturously slowly. One by one. The cursedly hot and sticky jean-shorts were then tugged over his hips and were abandoned around his knees.

For the briefest of moments, the night was still around Xander once more, until he let out a hoarse cry as a wicked cool tongue wound itself around his length and he felt his legs almost give way beneath him. Spike slid his hands up the boy’s thighs to grip his hips, holding him steady as he continued to run his lips and tongue over the eager cock in front of him.

Despite the iron grip holding him, Xander’s hips began to move of their own volition, only to be held more firmly in place as Spike worked his magic, bobbing his head faster and faster.

Magic... magic... it has to be magic... definitely a spell... nothing could feel this good... god... nothing...

Realising that he wasn’t going to last much longer, Xander tried in vain to pull away from the insistent mouth that was giving him so much pleasure, but Spike didn’t let go, and only sucked him harder as Xander felt that familiar, delicious tightening in his balls seconds before he emptied himself into Spike’s mouth.

Waiting a moment for Xander’s hips to stop rocking, Spike licked along the length of his rapidly softening penis one more time, eliciting a hiss from somewhere above his head, before releasing his hold on the boy’s hips, and standing upright once more, bringing him within the circle of Xander’s supporting arms. Xander lifted his head just in time to see Spike licking his lips with what could only be described as glee.

‘What are you grinning at?’

‘Nothing,’ Spike shrugged, not bothering to try and hide his smile. ‘Just didn’t exactly expect to end up spend the night like this, now did I?’

Xander couldn’t help but grin at him and lean forward for another kiss, groaning happily as his all but naked body brushed up against the cool skin of Spike’s chest and the soft denim of his jeans.

‘I’ll bet you didn’t,’ replied Xander softly as he reached in front of Spike and pulled at the button of his jeans. The well-worn material released the button easily allowing the zipper to slide down with a raspy sigh. Continuing to kiss the vampire excruciatingly softly, Xander tugged the jeans down and was rewarded with a hiss of pleasure when Spike’s hard, cool penis sprang out into his hand. Carefully, and slowly, very, very slowly, Xander wrapped his hand around the length, getting used to the feel of it in his hand. It was soft, and thinner than his own, but longer. He could feel Spike was bracing himself against the wall and pushing against him, but the boy refused to move any faster to give him the friction he craved.

Running his free hand from hips to the smooth, muscled chest before him, Xander palmed a pebbled nipple, rubbing it softly with the rough padding of his thumb.

‘God, Xander... so good,’ Spike murmured, drawing back from their kiss to let his head rest against the wall, giving himself over completely to the boy’s ministrations. As his head fell back, the white column of his neck was bared to Xander. A suggestive little grin appeared on Xander’s face as he leant forward to cover the exposed throat with kisses and long hard licks. As Spike pushed against him, Xander kissed harder as his hand moved swiftly, slipping and sliding along the length of Spike’s erection. He brought his other hand down to take hold of Spike’s balls to squeeze them, as from the vampire’s moans and murmurs he could tell he was close to the edge.

Xander ran his tongue down to where shoulder met the throat of the vampire, hesitated for the briefest of moments.. and then bit down as hard as he could.

Letting out a hoarse yell of fulfilment above Xander’s head, Spike spilt himself into the boy’s hands, waves of pleasure washing over him from his release and the sudden pain from the bite on his throat.

Oh fuck yeah. That Anya bird was right. He really is a Viking in the sack.

Spike let his head rest on the wall for a moment, and closed his eyes. His neck was still exposed and he felt a curious finger trail its way across his collarbone, stopping at the spot where he had been bitten.

Spike grinned to himself.

I bet the bugger’s given me quite a hicke.

Looking up from the dark bruise he had inflicted to stare curiously at Spike, Xander realised he was exhausted but surprisingly, considering the not insubstantial workout he had just had, felt much, much cooler. Not bothering to stop himself from leaning against both Spike or the wall, Xander waited for him to open his eyes and say something, silently daring Spike to piss him off now that this, whatever this was, was over.

‘So,’ Spike said without opening his eyes.

So what the hell do I say to the whelp now? ‘Thanks for the shag. Be a pet and don’t tell the Slayer so she doesn’t stake me through the heart?’ Yeah. Smooth.

‘So,’ Xander answered in the same tone.

I’m thinking the ‘I’m not really gay, or attracted to you in the slightest, I was just warm, honestly. Let’s never mention this again.’ approach isn’t going to cut it now we’ve done the nasty. Although... he might just go for the ‘Let’s never mention this again’ part.

‘That was uh...’

‘Yeah.’

‘So, uh, Xander.’ Spike finally opened his eyes and looked down at the boy with a slight smile. ‘Pet. I didn’t know you were a poof.’

Xander couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

‘Well that makes two of us.’

‘Two of us, yeah.’

Spike leant forward and kissed the rose-coloured lips in front of him.

He’d never done this before. I was his first.

Extracting himself gently from Xander’s embrace, Spike squatted down once more beside him. Taking hold of the waistband of the crumpled jeans, Spike gently tugged the material upwards and back over Xander’s hips, noticing as he did the pretty purple bruises there in the shape of handprints.

My hands. Huh. Little bit of pleasure with your pain and the chip doesn't seem to mind. Interesting.

Smiling again, he rose fluidly to his feet, standing just as Xander’s legs finally gave out, and the boy slid down the wall to sit at his feet.

~~~

Spike stuck the newly lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, and finished rebuttoning his shirt. He looked down at the boy who sat leaning on the redbrick wall before him; head slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees.

‘You ok, Xander?’ he asked around his cigarette.

A very sleepy Xander looked up at the man standing before him.

‘Yeah. Yeah, great,’ he answered honestly. ‘Just... really tired, th‘sall.’

'Lightweight,' Spike smirked. He looked at Xander for a second before rolling his eyes. ‘C’mon. I’ll help you home.’

‘You will? Thanks, Spike.’

‘Yeah, mate, no problem.’

He held out a hand and tugged Xander into a standing position, accidentally-on-purpose pulling the boy hard enough so that the momentum brought him bodily against Spike and into his embrace. Xander grinned sleepily at him for a second, yawned hugely and rested his head on Spike’s shoulder. Spike scowled in return to the sleepy smile, but allowed the boy to rest his head as they set off towards the Harris home.

Nancy boy. Can’t handle a good shag without falling asleep. He’s definitely cooled down a bit though...

Notes: OMWF song stylings ahead. Get ready to sing...

~~~

Chapter 2

I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and it’s black
Why can’t I feel?
My skin should crack and peel
I want the fire back.
Buffy ~ Once More With Feeling.

Xander: Does this mean that I have to... (gulp) be your queen?
~ Once More With Feeling

Xander opened his eyes and looked over at his alarm clock. Groaning, he flopped back into the bed and flung an arm over his face. Five a.m. It was five a.m. again, and he’d only been asleep since two. This wasn’t natural. He just wasn’t ever supposed to be awake at five a.m. unless he’d stayed up that late. He hadn’t been sleeping properly for the last couple of days, ever since...

No! No, we are not allowed to mention, ponder on, nor speak of that night, remember? Did not happen, has not effected me and my life will stumble along regardless. It’s been hard enough trying to look the guys in the eye without thinking they know. Every time they mention the heatwave I flinch!

The heat wave that had tormented the entire west coast had finally broken the day after The Night That Did Not Happen, and California now only had a regular hot summer to look forward to now, as opposed to the bake-you-where-you-stand weather they had been suffering lately. Reminded of the heat, Xander looked across to the ancient air conditioner positioned in his tiny window, which was now humming away merrily to itself.

I still don’t get it. I wouldn’t have thought Sp... old vampires would have know much about electrical stuff. I can’t believe he fixed it, and I slept through the whole thing. I guess I wore myself out doing, ah, absolutely nothing at all out of the ordinary. I've gone from super-sleepy to Mr. Wideawake. And it's really pissing me off! I wanna be asleep! I just haven't been able to sleep properly since...

He blushed and covered his face with his hands.

No, no, NO! That has nothing to do with it. I can’t believe I just thought that. *sigh* I can’t believe a lot of things.

Relaxing his arms, he let them fall out to his sides so he was spread-eagled over his rumpled bed.

What was I thinking? It had to be a spell. I really wish people would stop casting ‘do-the-wacky’ spells in dear little Sunnydale. They always backfire and hit me right in the kisser. Spells... yeah, that must have been it, ’cause ordinarily, no way. Not me. I mean, did it even really happen?

Xander cleared his throat and very clearly, but very quietly, said to himself, ‘You did not have sex with Spike. I did not have sex with Spike. I did not have... ewww... sex with Spike.’

Ignoring the deepening blush he could feel rising to his cheeks, and fighting the urge to touch his hips to see if the bruises were still there, he nodded once with finality.

See. It never happened, and certainly, most definitely, not with Spike.

Besides, you couldn't really class it as sex. It wasn't anything more than a couple of kisses, a blowjob and then a...

Sitting up in bed, tangling the sheets around his naked legs, Xander ran a hand over his face.

Then, to his complete and total surprise, he looked at a spot on the blank wall facing the foot of his bed, and began to sing.

(To the tune of ‘I’ll Never Tell’, the Xander/Anya number from ‘Once More With Feeling’.)

A look of sheer horror passed over his face, and he looked around desperately, hoping that no one had suddenly appeared in the room to hear his loud and very incriminating singing.

What!? No I don’t!

Knowing that he looked wistful, and hating himself for it, he pulled back the sheets and swung his legs out of bed. He stood up and walked into his tiny bathroom to stare into the mirror, quite sure that wherever this little refrain was coming from that it wasn’t over yet.

Tearing his guilty gaze away from his own eyes in the mirror, Xander strode purposefully back into his bedroom and pulled a T-shirt over his head with a very natty half turn and a little shuffle-step. Sliding to a stop with his arms outstretched, he found himself staring at another blank spot on the same wall as he continued.

Finished with dressing, Xander made his way towards the steps leading up into his house, hoping that his parents wouldn’t have chosen today to get up at this ungodly hour to witness him singing this particular song in their kitchen, because wouldn’t that make for some refreshing breakfast entertainment. To his relief, he paused halfway up the steps and spun dramatically around for another verse.

Spinning around on the narrow step and then leaping off to land back on the floor of the basement with a grace he didn’t know he possessed, the strange song with the words he didn’t want to hear continued to pour from his mouth.

Xander shuddered at the thought, and willed the song to end.

Soon.

Walking slowly back towards the steps, Xander’s body turned suddenly through 360 degrees and he got the impression that the song was finally, blessedly winding up.

In spite of himself, Xander blushed yet again. Thank god no one had seen those particular bruises. How on earth would he ever have explained them?

The blush deepened. He couldn’t help it. Every time he thought about that night, or thought about Spike in general, or even... saw someone with blonde hair in the distance, who could, possibly look like Spike if he squinted and pretended it was night time, little Xander stood proudly to attention. Every single time.

Yeah, refer to early point made about hips.

As he sang the last words, Xander threw himself through the air to land on his unmade bed with a flourish. Feeling the strange urge to sing fade from his body, he looked down at his 'God, I’m so stiff'-ness and sighed a world-weary sigh.

Watson, there is definitely magic afoot, possibly of the demony variety, and for some bizarre reason made me sing a song about wanting Spike.

Looked like the consequences were finally rearing their collective ugly heads.

This was so not good.

~~~

* Meanwhile, in a crypt on the other side of town... *

Spike paced up and down in his crypt, tossing an unopened bottle of scotch from one hand to the other, contemplating opening it and drowning his sorrows. What he would really like was a good vile kill to cleanse his system but, as per usual, alcohol would have to suffice.

He didn’t like the way he was feeling. The memories of the boy’s touch wouldn’t leave him alone. He should feel worse. Disgusted with himself or dirty even, but instead... he felt jumpy, restless, but definitely not dirty. God, not even a little bit used! A little touch of warm, mixed with a dash of elated, and was that... no, it couldn’t be... optimism? How long had it been since he had felt like that?

Again. Too bloody long.

Spike sighed, as he reached the end of his march along the length of his crypt, and turned to walk back in the other direction. He tried to think about something else. There was a new demon in town, so maybe he wouldn't have to wait too long before he got to kill somehting after all. Demons on the hellmouth. Probably out for a little Slayer blood. Nothing new there then. Except for the fact this one was an all-singing, all dancing drama queen of a demon. This whole living on a hellmouth deal was getting just a little too farcical for him. Sometimes it seemed as though most of the Big Bads that came to town were just placed here for someone else’s amusement as the Slayerettes struggled valiantly on with trying to kill them.

Well sod that.

It almost made him wish for the good old days when Angel was still in town. Almost. Singing and dancing indeed. He would put good money on all the braindead mortals not even noticing it was going on, either.

I mean, come on. Who the hell would actually let themselves sing and dance their pathetic little hearts out to one another?

~~~

# Except for bunnies... #

Anya lowered herself delicately into the last remaining free chair at the table in the magic shop as they all felt that now familiar feeling of being released from the urge to sing and dance.

Xander sat heavily in his seat. “See, okay, that was disturbing.”

But I’m not really complaining, because thank you dear lord, I didn’t sing about the “S” word.

“I thought it was neat,” said Willow with a smile.

“Well, is it just us?” asked Anya. “I mean, is it only happening to us?” At this, Buffy immediately turned away and walked toward the shop door. “’Cause that would probably mean a spell or...”

Hearing the jangle of the shop door opening, Xander turned in his seat and craned his neck to see out as loud singing from outside drifted into the store. Looking back in confusion at Willow as they listened, he mouthed the words, “They’ve got the mustard out?” to her. She answered him with a shrug as Buffy came back into the store, closing the door behind her, effectively blocking out the singing.

“It’s not just us,” she said with an almost bored tone. Xander knew the feeling. Living on the hellmouth, day in, day out, sometimes this stuff just didn’t phase you anymore. Especially not when you had naughty sex with the evil undead on continuous replay inside your head. Unless, of course, you were to start singing about the said naughty evil undead sex in front of your friends, because Xander thought that that might just phase him.

A lot.

A whole hell of a lot.

Standing by the table, Buffy folded her arms. “So, what is it? What’s causing it?’

“I thought it didn’t matter,” commented Giles.

“Well, I'm not exactly quaking in my stylish yet affordable boots, but there's definitely something unnatural going on here. And that doesn't usually lead to hugs and puppies.”

Giles nodded his agreement. ‘So we need information. Anyone have any suggestions?’

‘Spike.’

‘What was that, Xander?’ asked Giles.

‘What?’ Xander replied, looking up, startled.

Dear God, did I say that out loud? Don’t sing. Just whatever you do, don’t sing.

‘Did you have an idea?’

‘What, apart from the evil witches idea?’ That earned him another glare from Willow and Tara. ‘Which is ridiculous,’ he continued quickly. ‘Um, I was just thinking maybe we should ask Spike. Y’know?’ he said as they all looked at him like he’d just sprouted horns, which might just happen someday, so he tried not to jinx himself by thinking too hard about it. ‘He’s a vamp about town. He hears things. It might be worthwhile to ask.’

‘Why exactly would the Bleached Wonder help us?’ asked Buffy with distaste.

Xander thought for a moment. Why would Spike help? He imagined asking the vampire for information ‘for old times sake’ and the idea made him shudder. Besides, he knew that Spike would help him, and he knew exactly why.

‘Money.’

‘You know that’s crazy, but it just might work,’ Giles said with more than just a hint of sarcasm. He had supplied more of Spike’s spending money than he cared to remember. With a sigh, he reached into his back pocket to pull out a battered leather wallet, opened it and drew out some folded bills.

‘There should really be a Watcher’s fund for bribe money,’ he sighed. ‘Or perhaps we should just put Spike on the payroll of the Magic Box to save time.’

‘No. That’s a bad idea. I don’t like that idea at all,’ said Anya, looking up nervously. ‘See, then there’d be less money for me. I mean,’ she corrected herself with a bashful smile, ‘for us. Of course I meant more money for us. So, we’re all agreed the “put Spike on the payroll” idea is a bad one?’

She looked around the table expectantly. No one answered her.

‘Good,’ she said, and smiled brightly in the general direction of the cash register. 'That's settled then.'

Giles sighed wearily, and replaced the now empty wallet in his pocket, as he held out the money to Xander.

‘Here you go. And be sure not to give him any money until after he gives you information. The bastard’s ripped me off more times that I care to remember.’

‘What!?’ Xander asked with a panicked expression on his face. ‘You want me to go?’

‘Well, yes, if you don’t mind. I have a few sources I’d like to run through with Willow and Tara, and Buffy has training.’

‘Giiiiiles,’ came a simultaneous whine from three female voices.

‘Now, girls, this is important, I need you here.’

Three pairs of arms folded, and three lower lips stuck themselves out to pout at the Watcher.

Meanwhile, Xander continued to panic.

‘I can research! Really, I can. Send Anya! She’s not doing anything. Or Buffy! Send Buffy, she’s the Slayer! Make her go!’

‘Xander, please, there’s no need to make a fuss. I need Anya to run the shop, and I told you, Buffy needs to train. You know that Spike’s no danger to you, and it’s still daylight. Just go, ask, and then you can come straight back here and help research if you feel so strongly about it.’

Giles leant over and tucked the money into Xander’s shirt pocket.

Great. Now I have to go and see Spike, and then I get to research. What a simply wonderful day this is turning out to be.

As the Scoobies set to work with their various tasks, Xander got to his feet with a heavy heart and walked to the door of the shop, just in time to bump into an excited Dawn.

‘Hey Xander.’

‘Hey Dawnie.’

She frowned at his hangdog expression.

‘Why so sad?’

Xander looked down at her fondly and wondered what she’d say if he told her the truth. Then again, if he did, Buffy would probably stake him for corrupting her little sister. Willow and Tara doing spells was one thing, but him and Spike? Not really Dawn-conversation worthy.

‘‘Cause I hadn’t seen you yet today.’

Flashing him a brilliant smile, Dawn hugged him briefly before running excitedly into the store. As he walked away, Xander could just hear her parting words.

“Hey guys, you’ll never guess what happened at school today...”

Chapter 3

Nothing ever happens
Nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song
And we all sing along like before
And we’ll all be lonely tonight
And lonely tomorrow.
Del Amitri ~ Nothing Ever Happens

Xander: No one is judging you. It's understandable. Spike is strong and mysterious and sort of compact but well muscled.
Buffy: I am not having sex with Spike! But I'm starting to think that you might be.
~ Intervention

The night air was blissfully cool around him, ruffling lightly at the loose tails of his shirt as Xander stood nervously outside the crypt, his hand raised motionless in front of the single door.

I’ve never been here by myself before, he realised. Do I knock, or just barge in?

Deciding on a compromise, he put his shoulder against the stone and pushed hard at the door, eventually managing to move the heavy stone back enough to squeeze his body through. Standing just inside the door, he called out nervously, ‘Heelllo? Anybody home? Spike? Are you here?’

See? You even managed to say his name. Out loud. No stuttering. Well done. I think we just made a breakthrough in group.

‘The sun sets and he appears,’ a gruff voice replied. “You come to serenade me?”

‘Um, no?’ Xander said nervously as Spike climbed out of the lower level of his crypt. ‘I wasn’t planning on it, but I take it that you know what's going on.’

“Well, I've seen some damn funny things in the last two days. A 600 pound Chirago demon making like Yma Sumac, that one will stay with you. I remain immune, happy to say.”

He held up the bottle of whiskey he had been toying with in offering.

“Drink?”

Beer bad, Xander, remember? Oh boy, but I could sure use a drink.

‘Sure.’

Never taking his eyes from the boy, Spike twisted the top from the bottle and drank deeply from it, before passing the bottle to Xander who drank more hesitantly, and was very relieved when he actually managed not to choke on the burning liquid.

‘Um, so you know what’s causing the ‘Hey kids! Let’s do the show right here!’ vibe?’ he asked in a wheezy voice as he passed the bottle back to Spike, his eyes watering slightly from the alcohol.

Spike lips. Lips of Spike touched the bottle before I drank. I don’t know what Buffy was complaining about. Spike lips work pretty darn well if you ask me.

“Oh. So that's all,” Spike said with a sigh, leaning back against the wall. “You've just come to pump me for information.”

“What else would I...” Xander caught himself just in time.

Just how dumb would that make me if I had’ve finished that sentence?

‘Um, no, just thought you might be in the know. Y’know?’ he said with a nervous grin. ‘You bein’ a vamp about town an’ all.’

‘Yeah. I’m familiar with the concept. Spike to the rescue, yet again. Honestly, I don’t know what the hell you little munchkins did before I came along.’

‘Angel,’ Xander said with distaste.

‘Yeah,’ Spike retorted with just as much distaste. ‘Though I’m pretty sure it was just Buffy who did Angel,’ here Spike paused for what seemed to Xander like just a fraction of a second too long... ‘and look how well that all worked out.’

Xander automatically opened his mouth to argue; to defend his friend and her vampire lover, (a small part of him also wanting to profoundly deny the horrendous implication that he might have had anything but a strictly professional relationship with Angel... although there was that time he’d caught Angel staring at his neck... ) but instead he thought for moment.

He thought about all the things he could say right now, the million and one putdowns that Spike would be able to come up with if he did defend Angel. Last, but most definitely not least, he thought about just how much he hated Angel and how he’d always been against Buffy’s relationship with the vampire. Then he simply closed his mouth again and nodded his agreement.

Spike noted this with a disinterested scowl. ‘Yep, well, sorry to tell you... not all that sorry mind, but I don’t know a thing.’

‘Money,’ Xander blurted out as he remembered. ‘I have money. From Giles.’

Spike set the whiskey down and walked to the door of his crypt, easily pulled the heavy door open with one hand, and looked back at Xander.

‘Much as I’d like to take some more of the Watcher’s money, I really don’t know anything. I also don’t particularly want Buffy tracking me down to take it back again if I make something up. So, I don’t wanna bore you with the small talk. Buh’bye now. Don’t let the door hit you where the good lord split you, and all that.’

Leaving the door, Spike walked past Xander back to the lone whiskey bottle, grabbed it and hopped onto his coffin to sit, his legs dangling off the edge and reached into his pocket searching for a cigarette.

Xander turned to leave, annoyed that he had spent over two hours psyching himself up to come here just to be dismissed so easily. Obviously illicit late night rendezvous with sworn enemies, or their sidekicks, didn’t bother the vampire one bit.

Well it bothered the hell out of Xander.

Holding his head high, Xander strode towards the door and freedom, far, far away from Spike. He could go back to the Magic Box now with a clear conscience. He had done his duty, faced his demons - literally - asked him for help, offered him money, and was now free to go.

All he had to do was make it out the door without embarrassing himself, and that would be it. Done and dusted. Except not in the staking sense.

Just make it out the door.

That’s all.

‘Spike?’

Greeaat. You couldn’t even get that right, could you? Just walk out the door, that was all. Now you’re going to make a complete asshole of yourself in front of Spike. Spike who will be around to make fun of you until the day you die, and then still be around to tell amusing stories at your expense after you’re six feet under. Way to go me.

No answer. Xander didn’t look around.

‘I just wanted to... I mean, thanks for fixing the air conditioner for me. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without y... it. Without it. So, uh, thanks.’

He noticed. I’m such a poof.

‘Xander...’

‘Yeah?’ This time Xander half turned around to look back at the vampire.

Spike opened his mouth to say that he didn’t fix it. Wouldn’t bother even if he knew how. Didn’t care if the boy fried to death in the heat. One less pesky Scooby to worry about. Certainly didn’t fix the bloody thing because his basement room was like an oven, and while Xander did turn a cute shade of pink while he slept, it would have been more comfortable for him to be cooler.

No way. He had just shagged and left. Only helped the boy home because it was on his way to the crypt. His crypt on the opposite side of town, but Spike always went home via the scenic route anyway. Every night. Without fail.

Yeah.

He opened his mouth to tell him these things, maybe throw in a couple of well-timed and cutting insults about Xander’s manhood where appropriate, but instead, and to his untold horror, Spike began to sing.

Oh god, NO! No, no, no, PLEASE don’t make me bloody sing to the whelp, please! Anything but that, I’d rather kiss Buffy again!

Xander’s eyes opened in shock. Spike was singing to him. Singing! True, the vampire had hidden his face with his hands and was shaking his head in disbelief, looking as though he wanted to stake himself for doing it, but the fact remained, he was singing.

And it sounded pretty damn good.

Xander was frozen to the spot. He was unprepared for the wave of disappointment that hit him as Spike looked pointedly at him, giving in to the urge to sing.

He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want me. I should have known. Why would he? ...hold on, why does this feel bad? This is a good thing, you want to forget it too, remember? All those little chats you had with yourself? Spike shenanigans lead to bad Buffy talks. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and with a lot of her kicking my ass for the rest of my life for doing something as stupid as having sex with Spike!

Well, okay... Not quite sex. Just a couple of kisses, a blowjob and then a... Gnnngh.

Huh? Did he just say...

Well wasn’t that poetic. ‘Wearing far too many clothes’. Fantastic. I’m surprised he’s not rolling on the floor laughing at me by now. You’d think if you had to go through this humiliation, they’d at least let you write your own sodding lyrics!

Spike slid off the coffin and landed silently on the floor.

Xander’s ‘stiffness’ made a sudden and dramatic reappearance as the deep, melodic hum made his skin tingle.

No, no, no! Do not get turned on by his singing! Don’t do it, you fool! This way lies madness!

Spike stalked slowly towards the boy, smirking at him as Xander backed away.

Won’t do any good, pet. Looks like I’m gonna sing this little ditty whether I want to or not, and if I have to sing it, you’re bloody well going to listen to every single word I have to say.

Xander stared pointedly at his shoes, and tried to walk towards the door, only causing Spike to roll his eyes in annoyance and simply stepped into the boy’s path, blocking his exit.

Not getting away from me that easily, boy. Oh no. I know I’m getting to you. Little Xander standing to attention is he? I can hear your heart beat, smell your desire. It’s delicious.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Xander couldn’t move. He didn’t want to hear this. This was too hard, figuratively and literally. The implications of this were more than he could handle right now. He wanted away. Wanted to be far away from this place, not here, standing so close to the source of all this craziness.

So close that he could reach out and touch it.

Spike lowered his head a little, trying to catch Xander’s eye. He wanted to see a reaction, not be singing his heart out to the top of the dark head of hair. He reached out and cupped Xander’s chin, forcing the boy to look him in the eye. Angrily, Spike searched his face, looking for his answer.

He didn’t like what he saw.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want me. The little bastard was just playing. I should’ve known. Never trust the motherfucking good guys. They’ll screw you over. Every. Single. Time.

‘Fuck this,’ Spike whispered angrily, letting go of Xander’s chin, and shoving him lightly away. The shove didn’t really hurt Xander, but it was enough to set off the Initiative chip. Spike gritted his teeth, and flinched, drawing in an unnecessary breath against the pain. The brief stab of pain subsided, and Spike looked up once more, his eyes glittering.

Xander blinked as the song continued, the lyrics angrier than before. Spike stormed away from him, grabbing the half-empty whiskey bottle from the coffin.

* Smash! * Spike stood tall, not flinching away from the flying shards of broken glass, whereas Xander ducked reflexively at the sound of the bottle smashing off the far wall of the crypt where Spike had thrown it.

He turned and advanced again on Xander, glaring at him.

For just a moment, Spike’s face softened at the confusion evident on Xander’s face.

Maybe I was wrong. This whole thing must be scaring the hell out of the poor bugger.

Spike’s face hardened once more.

Don’t get suckered in. The whelp was playing with you. You! A fucking master vampire, and he’s barely out of nappies. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Spike might be my slave? Is it bad that I find that completely the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard?

Spike pointed at the door again, and glowered at Xander, making it clear that he wanted the boy to leave.

Xander took a step towards the door, and in the next instant found himself walking side by side with Spike in the graveyard outside.

Excuse me? Did I nod off there for a minute? How did we get out here?

The rapid scenery change didn’t seem to have phased Spike at all, if anything it appeared to Xander that the vampire had calmed a little as he sang the bridge of his song.

Here Spike stopped walking and turned to face Xander, holding his hand over his heart as he did so, and again searching the boy’s face.

As Spike growled and spun away from him, Xander saw that ahead of them was a group of men carrying a coffin towards a group of mourners.

Who the hell has a funeral in this town after dark? Don’t these people have brains? And exactly why is Spike running towards them?

Leaping gracefully into the air, Spike landed lightly onto the coffin being carried towards the mourners and the empty, open grave. Xander watched, quite impressed, as Spike didn’t miss a beat, the song fitting perfectly around his acrobatics.

Wondering who the hell had just jumped onto their dearly departed for a free ride, the pall-bearers tipped the coffin and Spike tumbled, bounced effortlessly to his feet as his demon emerged on his face. Shocked, Xander tried to shout out a warning, but found that he couldn’t speak.

I guess I’m not allowed to yell over his song, he thought surreally. What would I yell anyway? ‘Watch out for the singing vampire, but don’t worry ‘cause he can’t bite you’? Yeah, that’d work. No question whatsoever.

Tossing tacky folding chairs left and right, Spike tore his way through the unfortunate funeral gathering as the people scattered around him.

The horror-struck priest was unfortunate enough to be grabbed by this creature who was wilfully destroying the solemn ceremony.

What the hell am I going to do? Sing him to death?

With a grunt of annoyance, Spike shoved the priest away from him, and experienced a relatively mild shock from the chip for his trouble. He stood with his fists clenched at his sides, watching as the mourners ran from him in all directions. Even in his minor triumph over them he felt weak and pathetic. Singing his heart out to Xander, of all people, and the only thing that would have made him feel better (...the blood...) was denied to him. He couldn’t hurt these mortals. He was reduced, as always to scaring them and watching them run from him, unable to follow up with any of the sweet violence that he craved.

As he let his demon face melt away, he stood with his back to Xander, and dejectedly sang the last few bars of his song.

The song faded away. Xander looked around him. They were all alone again, the mourners scattered after playing their part in this ridiculous show.

‘Are you finished?’ he asked the back of Spike’s head.

‘I bloody well hope so,’ came the irate reply.

‘Huh. So you want me to, uh, bugger off and leave you alone, or help you find your sweet release? Your little song wasn’t all that clear.’

‘Ponce.’

‘Hey, don’t yell at me, buddy, it was your song.’

‘I know,’ Spike said between gritted teeth, finally turning around to glower at him. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you tell me what you sang about?’

Xander felt the burning blush rise to his cheeks almost immediately.

‘What makes you think I even sang a song?’ he asked, the nonchalant laugh he had been aiming for sounding a little more nervous than he would have liked.

‘Well, the delightful rosy hue of your cheeks at this moment in time gives me a pretty good clue. Sing about me, did you?’ Spike asked, letting his anger seep away as the boy’s discomfort grew.

‘No.’

‘Mm hmm.’ Spike’s smile was one of complete disbelief. ‘So what did it go like?’

‘I didn’t sing.’ Xander replied, and now it was his turn to talk through gritted teeth.

‘Are you sure it didn’t go a little something like... this?’ Spike asked, twisting his face into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as he leapt into the air with a grace that Xander had seldom seen him put into anything before except fighting, turning full circle in the air. He landed and immediately dipped into a low bow, his arms outstretched, never taking his eyes off Xander. As he raised his head, he sang his second song of the night, except this time, it sounded very much like the tune to ‘Pop goes the weasel.’

# Oh woe is me, ‘cause I snogged Spike,
I saw his knackers, too.
Oh woe is me, ‘cause I want more,
now my balls are blue #

Spike finished his song with a hand over his heart, a pseudo-serious look on his face and raised an eyebrow at Xander. ‘Tell me if I’m close here.’

Jesus, was he under the bed listening to me?

‘Don’t be ridiculous,' Xander glared. ‘I told you, I didn’t sing. And I don’t know what you’re so happy with yourself about. You’re the one who thinks I torment you by wearing too many clothes, remember?’

Spike’s eyes narrowed. ‘Touché.’

Xander took a step forward, and there they stood, three feet apart, examining one another, a definite sense of challenge in the air.

‘So.’

Spike wants me. He wants me, but he’s not too happy about having to admit it.

‘So.’

Why hasn’t the whelp run a mile? It’s obvious he can’t deal with this. What does he want? A few more rounds of ‘kick Spike while he’s down’?

‘So, how long has it been, exactly, since you felt this way?’ Xander asked, keeping his face deadpan.

(...Too long...)

The muscles in Spike’s cheeks visibly clenched.

Little bastard.

Not rising to the bait, Spike took a step forwards, and instead of defending, he attacked. ‘Tell me what you sang about, Xander.’

‘I didn’t sing.’

Another step forwards, bringing them almost nose to nose. Xander found that he couldn’t look Spike in the eye, but he didn’t move away. Instead he shoved his hands angrily into his pockets and stared pointedly at the trampled grass that they stood on.

‘Tell me.’

‘I. Didn’t. Sing.’

Ducking his head a little, Spike leant forward to try and catch the boy’s eye. He was close enough to feel Xander’s breath.

He’s afraid. And angry. And yet he’s still here. He hasn’t run away. Maybe I was wrong. God, either way this is just too tasty.

‘Tell me.’

Without lifting his head, Xander finally glanced up from under his eyelashes, and drew in a little shocked breath at the fire in Spike’s eyes.

‘Tell me.’

Xander licked his lips nervously, not missing how Spike watched the action, captivated.

‘You,’ he whispered. ‘I sang about you.’

Spike frowned. ‘You did?’

He hadn’t expected this admission from the boy. Denial? Arguments? Yes. A whispered confession that Xander had sang about him? No.

Spike smiled at the boy, cocky and completely sure of himself again.

‘I knew it.’

‘You did not know it!’