Chapter 22

Xander woke slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn’t want to open his eyes, wanted to stay wrapped in the warm blankets and cool arms and remember the extraordinary feelings from the night before. He let his mind wander over the roller coaster of emotions he’d felt in the past twenty-four hours. It seemed an apt metaphor. In the six months between Shari’s death and coming to Sunnydale, he had kept a tight hold, staying numb to avoid the vicious hurt. Since coming to Sunnydale and L.A. he’d gone from breathtaking joy to soul-crushing despair about a hundred times. The previous night was no exception. After the sparring match was over and all of his friends had gone, Xander’s heart had ached for Shari. It seemed so unfair that she was gone. He wondered when his mind would finally assimilate that she was never coming back; it hurt so much to have something happen and automatically think, “Where’s Shari? I’ve got to show her this,” and then remember. His heart broke again every time.

He had been outside, staring at the moon and just *hurting* when Spike had come to him. Somehow the vampire always knew what was needed, offering strength and silence, and just letting Xander be. It was a remarkable thing. He thought about the gentle way he’d been led upstairs and attended to, how Spike had merely taken care of his immediate needs without comment, letting him take the time he needed. Throughout the shower and getting dressed and having his hair dried so carefully, Xander had taken a little vacation from reality. He’d stopped thinking and just allowed himself to be in the moment and feel. Each gentle touch and small kindness had been a balm to his aching heart.

When Spike had finally broken the silence to let him talk, Xander had poured out his hurt. He was thankful that the vampire hadn’t given him platitudes, but had told him the truth. Xander knew that he’d never forget Shari and Lex, and that their memories would always be painful, but he believed Spike. He believed that all of the wonderful memories would ease that pain, and that someday he would be able to think about them and have it feel – what was Spike’s word? - bittersweet. He could live with bittersweet.

Rolling onto his back and resettling the sleeping vampire onto his chest, Xander smiled at the happy sound that came from Spike’s beautiful lips as he settled into the new position. When he’d asked to be taken to bed and loved, Spike had complied without question. From the first sweet kiss to a final sigh, their coming together had been almost perfect. Xander flinched at the thought of what his face must have looked like when Spike had looked up at him and panted, “Xander, want you inside me.” The vampire could not have known that he was unconsciously parroting a phrase that Shari had used so many times to signal Xander that she was ready for him. He knew that his face had frozen into a shocked expression, because he saw a flicker of hurt and sadness in the glittering blue eyes under him. Xander had tried to recover as quickly as possible, but, thankfully, Spike had glossed right over it, and had proceeded to make Xander forget all about it, too.

Spike had gently reversed their position, moving on top and had nibbled his way down his lover’s body and stroked and teased and licked and sucked at him until Xander had thrashed mindlessly and poured himself into the willing, cool mouth. As soon as Xander caught his breath, Spike was crawling up his body, giving him sweet kisses that were flavored with his own bitter fluids. Xander had pressed the tube of lubricant into the vampire’s hand and at Spike’s small frown begged, “Please, Will, love me”. With another searing kiss, Spike had complied. He had used his fingers to open and prepare Xander for what felt like an hour. Xander knew that he was being careful because of the human’s earlier soreness, but by the time he’d finished, Xander’s head was rolling on the pillow, and he was chanting, “love me, love me” mindlessly.

When the cool fingers left his body, Xander started to shift over onto his stomach. A hand on his hip stopped him. “Oh, no you don’t,” Spike said in a tone filled with laughter. “I saw you tonight – you’re flexible enough for face-to-face. Besides, I want to see your eyes, and I want you to see mine.” At that, Xander gasped and allowed the blond to arrange him into position, with one knee pulled up to his chest and the other wrapped around Spike’s waist. Xander felt the slick head of Spike’s cock pressing against his opening, and let out a long groan as he was slowly filled, inch by inch. Brown eyes met glittering blue ones, and Xander hoped that his eyes were showing Spike all the things he couldn’t say as the vampire began to make love to him.

It truly had been making love, Xander reflected. All of their previous encounters had been exciting and wonderful, but this was different. Xander knew that he was entering dangerous territory with Spike. Spike, who’d loved one woman for over a hundred years; Spike who made obsessive stalkers seem attention-deficit. Spike, who’d relentlessly pursued Buffy, to the point of attacking and nearly raping her to make her feel again. But, this was not the same man. This was Will - his Will. The one who comforted him and held him and woke him up by tugging on his toes; the one who chewed on the stem of his glasses and tucked his feet under a blanket on the couch. His Will, who dried his hair and held his hand and whose kisses could be blindingly sweet or crushingly erotic, who felt such pain at thinking that he’d hurt Xander, who wanted to protect him whether it was from nightmares or demons or just from being given a hard time when he was fragile.

This was his Will, his lover, his vampire who was poised above him, around him, inside him. Will’s fingers clutching his hair, Will’s hard body pressed against his, and Will’s cool cock inside him, stretching him, filling him to the point of pain, crashing against the small bundle of nerves that caused him to see stars on every stroke. Will’s hoarse voice that said, “Oh, God, Xan – love this …you feel so good, can’t get enough of you, love how you feel,” and trailed off to an inarticulate howling sob.

Xander was brought out of his reverie by three simultaneous realizations. He realized that thinking about last night had given him a raging erection, that Spike was awake, and that the vampire had noticed the aforementioned erection and was lightly grinding his hip against it. Xander rolled them over so he was on top. He smiled down into sleepy blue eyes. “Good morning, love,” he whispered. “Did you sleep well?” The vampire nodded and stretched his neck to rub his smooth cheek against Xander’s stubbled one. Xander held him close, not moving. Even without friction, Spike’s cock was starting to harden against his, and he thrust down slightly to feel the delicious tingle as their lengths came into contact.

Exchanging light touches and kisses and whispered words of nonsense, the two men moved together languidly. Their movements were not about seeking release, but about sharing and loving and learning about one another. They found each other’s ticklish spots and the spots that made them gasp and spots that made them move more urgently. Xander spent long minutes exploring the cool column of Spike’s pale neck, running his lips and tongue over every inch of its pale beauty. Spike’s fingers tangled in his lover’s sable hair and traced the contours of his skull, neck and ears with lightly scratching fingernails. They kissed endlessly; hot, slow kisses; light, fast kisses; deep, wet kisses; they lost themselves in the sensations of lips and tongues and teeth. Hands and mouths traced the contours of muscular chests and arms, dipping and sliding over ridges and swells.

Finally, they could stand it no longer. Spike’s hands came up to curl around Xander’s hard triceps muscles; in turn, Xander clasped the back of the vampire’s neck and one hard hip. They pressed their foreheads together and stared into one another’s eyes as their lower bodies moved, faster now, sliding, hot flesh on cool, crisp hair against smooth velvet-over-steel skin. The human found his release first, and the splash of hot semen between them sent Spike over the edge, too. Their motions slowed; both enjoying the slick slide against super-sensitive flesh. They stilled and held there, until Xander’s breathing returned to normal and Spike’s stopped. They rolled to one side, eyes and bodies still locked together, each unable to break either the gaze or the silence that hung between them; unwilling to interrupt the moment or to admit that something new was happening between them.

Xander leaned forward and kissed Spike deeply. “Thank you,” he whispered against cool lips. The vampire simply kissed him back and repeated the phrase.

Dressed casually, Spike and Xander walked into the kitchen, hand in hand. Cordelia was standing in front of the open refrigerator, drinking a diet soda and starring moodily at the food. When she noticed the men, she gave them a smile. “You guys want lunch?” she asked. Xander answered affirmatively. “Good,” she exclaimed. “While you’re at it will you make something for me and Willow?” She gave them a mischievous smile. They laughed together, and Spike offered to make lunch. He started pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator, tossing a bag of blood to his lover, who placed it in the microwave to heat. “I’m afraid it’s grilled cheese,” the vampire groused. “Don’t you people keep any food around here?” Cordelia let out an exaggerated sigh. “We eat out a lot. Nobody here can really cook.” Spike laughed at her sad face, and promised to cook her a real dinner. Cordelia brightened at the offer. Taking Xander by the hand, she led him through a door that led out of the kitchen, promising Spike that she would keep him occupied while the Master Vampire Chef was at work.

The door led to a suite of offices. It was nicely decorated and had all of the modern conveniences. Willow sat at the reception desk and frowned at the computer, typing away busily. She looked up when Xander pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey, Xander – how are you doing today?” He perched on the corner of the desk and smiled at her. “I’m good.” They chatted for a few minutes until Cordelia called to them. Following her voice, they found themselves in a dark, richly appointed office. From the abundance of leather-bound books, leather furniture, leather desk accessories and Irish whiskey, Xander determined that it belonged to Angel. The huge leather chair pulled up to an elaborately carved desk dwarfed Cordelia. She was pointing at the monitor before her.

“Check this out.” She motioned for the others to look over her shoulder. “This is a website for vampire groupies. It talks about whatever famous vamps are in the area and stuff like that.” Xander looked at the screen. “Did you do a search on Angel?” he asked. “Not yet, but I will.” They shared a grin. “I did a search on Drusilla, though – look at this.”

Xander leaned in to read aloud the information that was printed beneath a drawing of Drusilla. “Drusilla always seems to come back to Los Angeles. There are suspicions that her sire still lives in the city. Also of interest may be her wayward childe, Spike.” Spike’s name was underlined, showing that it was a link. Cordelia clicked on it and a new page opened. Xander was greeted with a large, color photo of himself and Spike, taken at the dance club. In it, Spike was sprawled on the club’s stairs, legs spread in a wanton pose. Xander was behind him, sitting with his arms wrapped around Spike’s chest and his face buried in his lover’s neck.

Cordelia read the text this time. “Master Spike, late of Sunnydale, has kept a low profile for a number of years. Seems like that profile has risen considerably, as he was spotted in a mixed group of demons and humans at Club 668 over the weekend. No one was naming names, but speculation is that one of his companions was the Slayer. Also no word on the brunet in the above photo … new Consort? Inquiring minds want to know….” Cordelia sat back in her chair and looked at Willow and Xander. “Terrible writing, but the photo is hot,” she commented. Xander pointed at the screen. “Save that for me, would you?” She complied. After a pause, Xander cleared his throat. “I don’t know what this means, exactly, but I’m hungry. Let’s move this discussion to the kitchen.” The girls agreed.

Back in the kitchen, Buffy, Angel, Dawn, Jase and Sara had gathered. Buffy was setting the table as Spike finished cooking. Xander and the two girls joined them, pulling up chairs. Over lunch they discussed the website. Spike, Dawn and Buffy wanted to see the picture; Angel brooded. None of them really knew what it could mean. Cordelia announced that if there was one vampire groupie website, there would be a hundred more, and that she and Willow would follow up on as many as they could. Jase offered to join the effort on his laptop, as did Xander and Dawn. Angel, Buffy and Spike decided that they would use the vast network of sewer tunnels to do some old-fashioned legwork in the demon bars and hangouts.

Throughout lunch, Xander and Spike held hands, shared lingering looks and generally acted like swanning newlyweds. Cordelia, Willow, Buffy and Dawn exchanged glances and covered broad smiles with their hands, happy to see their friends so besotted with one another. When it came time for the two groups to split up, Buffy and Angel practically had to pry Spike from Xander’s side. Finally, with a lingering kiss, the two men parted, each led away by their assigned group.

Xander went upstairs with Willow to retrieve both of their laptops, so Jase and Dawn could have Angel’s computer. In the elevator, the redhead sighed and looked closely at her oldest friend. “You and Spike seem pretty close this morning,” she observed. His smile was blinding as he replied, "Yeah, I've gotta say things are going well, despite all the impending revenge and murder parts.” She smiled, “Don’t worry, we’d never let that stuff get in the way.” They shared a smile. Hers turned wistful. “You seemed pretty upset last night. Grief thing?” Remembering that she was the one person who could actually understand his feelings, Xander clasped her hand and nodded. “Wills, does it get any easier?”

“Not anytime soon,” she replied. “I won’t lie to you. It sneaks in from time to time and sort of jerks the rug out from under you.” He squeezed her hand. “Even now? After so long?” His voice was soft. She squeezed back. “Yep, even now. I still remember every word she said to me that day; I can still see her face as she said them. I swear that sometimes I feel her, or smell her.” The door opened and they walked down the hall to Willow’s door in silence. Xander waited as she gathered her things, and they turned to go back down the hall. She hesitated, and then laid her hand on his arm. “Xander, I know I’m not exactly the poster child for emotional availability or moving on, but I have to say something. Don’t push Spike away. I think he needs you as much as you need him.”

Xander placed his hand over hers. “I think you’re right, Wills. I won’t push him away. You can count on it.” They continued to the elevator and boarded it to go to Xander’s room for his computer. They exited on the fifth floor and walked to 501. Xander let Willow in and went to the closet to retrieve his laptop bag. Willow had seated herself on the sofa, and she motioned for him to join her. Xander settled himself beside her and took her hand.

“You look serious, Wills,” he observed. She smiled, but her eyes were worried. “Xander, I want to tell you something,” she looked down at their clasped hands, then back up to his face, stalling. He gave her a gentle smile and waited. She began to speak haltingly. “I … I don’t want you to do what I did. I don’t want you to make the mistakes I made… when Tara died.” Xander smiled at her. “No offense, but I’m pretty unlikely to go all dark and veiny and try to destroy the world.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t mean that. I mean after the after, Doofus. I was so afraid to be hurt again that I didn’t let anyone get really close, not Kennedy, not Oz, not anybody.” She looked down at their hands again and whispered, “I still haven’t.” Xander wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “It’s not too late, Willow. Oz has waited for you all this time. He loves you.” She squeezed him back and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

They separated, and she looked at him with eyes bright with unshed tears. Willow looked into Xander’s brown eyes and decided that she would take a chance and say the rest of what she was thinking, come what may. She drew in a deep breath and spoke. “Xander, you do know that being with Spike doesn’t take anything away from what you had with Shari, don’t you? What you and she had stays frozen in time – it will always be there for you when you need it.” She paused, and he looked at her. Comprehension dawned in his eyes, and he smiled and blushed at the same time. “That’s where he went last night!” he exclaimed. “Oh, God. He told you …. He told you … Willow, what did he tell you?” Her face flushed, and he groaned out loud. “Do I really want to know what he told you?” he asked. “Let’s just say he needed a little insight into grief and what it does to you and leave it at that, OK?” she begged. Xander decided to let her (and himself) off the hook. He paused, and then said, “Thank you, Willow. Thanks for helping him understand. It means a lot to me.”

They left the suite and headed back downstairs. Dawn and Jase worked in Angel’s office, Cordelia manned her desk, and Xander and Willow shared a large table in the conference room. Sara happily toddled between all of the adults, finally winding up asleep in one of the conference room chairs as the afternoon wore on. The pile of pages on the printer grew as the searchers cataloged any mention of Drusilla, Spike or Angel that they found.

Spike was happy. He held the scaly, blue-green demon still so that Buffy could deliver a smash kick to its knee. She danced back five feet, and the vampire slung the demon after her. Buffy caught its not-inconsiderable bulk easily and wrenched it around to allow Spike to pummel it with a blindingly fast series of jabs to its body and head. He stepped back, and the Slayer shoved the demon toward her mate. Angel clotheslined his adversary with one arm, causing it to slam down onto the ground with a muttered curse. He picked it back up and spun it around as Buffy and Spike moved in to each smash a knee into its midsection.

The unfortunate creature went around the circle two more times before Angel allowed it to fall, semi-conscious against the wall. Buffy panted and wiped her hands on her jacket. Giving a chortling Spike an arch look, she asked, “What’s so funny, Bleachy?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s sorta the pot calling the kettle blonde, innit Miss Clairol?” He gestured to the unmoving demon. “I was just thinking that our friend here didn’t enjoy our little game of demented Red Rover.” Buffy raised a hand to her hair and frowned, then relented and laughed. Angel joined in as the demon started to stir on the floor.

Spike rubbed his hands together gleefully. Kicking the crap out of this demon was great fun, and he was enjoying the fact that he wasn’t getting any obnoxious guilty feelings from doing it. The big blue asshole had info about Dru that he was reluctant to share. Spike needed the info to help Xander; therefore, no big heavy guilt trip, just ass-kicking. He walked over to the demon and crouched down in front of it. He poked it in the chest to punctuate his words. “Now, let’s hear what you know about Drusilla. Remember her? Tall, dark, thin and loony as a treebird?” Spike was dearly hoping that the demon would resist so they could play with it some more. To his great disappointment, it muttered a few phrases in its native language. Buffy and Angel looked to Spike expectantly for the translation. He waved them off and spoke a short phrase back to the demon in the language that Buffy thought sounded like a cat with a hairball problem. The demon answered with a longer hacking-coughing-barfing series of noises. Spike stood and gestured for the others to follow.

They stalked out the alley door of the small bookshop and returned to the sewer tunnels without encountering any deadly sunlight. Once in the darkness, Spike leaned against the wall and wished for a cigarette. “OK” he sighed, “Same as the last one. She was here over the weekend; she talked to a number of demons, all of which think she was just babbling daftly at them. Which probably means she did one of her mind-fucks on them. Last guy there, his species isn’t all that susceptible to hypnosis, but all he’s saying is that she was asking about us.” Buffy asked, “How did he know she was asking about us? Did she ask for us by name?” Spike smiled at her. “Specifically, she asked about two vampires who ‘stink of souls and Slayer’. I think that was us.” Spike and Angel shared a grimace at the description, and Buffy tried to discreetly sniff herself.

Angel pushed off from his leaning position at the wall and straightened his long leather coat. “Well,” he said, “Do you want to go beat up some more demons for fun, or just go home and see what the Technology Club has come up with?” Spike and Buffy carefully weighed the options, and then looked at each other and both shook their heads. “Not much more to be gained from the beating,“ the Slayer said, “however much fun it is. Besides, my hand hurts, and I’ve got demon blood on my pants.” Spike shoved his hands in the pockets of his duster. “Home, then.” The three turned and made their way back through the dark.

The sun was almost down by the time they entered the office. Cordelia looked up with a bright smile of welcome, which immediately dropped off her face when she saw that they were not paying customers. “Any luck?” she asked, turning back to her monitor. Buffy waggled her hand in a “so-so” gesture. “You?” she asked. “We found some stuff – don’t know how useful it will be. Why don’t you guys go get drinks for everyone and we can sit down in the conference room and compare notes?” Buffy and Angel nodded and turned toward the door to the kitchen. Spike sniffed the air and followed Xander’s scent to the conference room.

He had to laugh as he entered the room. Xander was perched on the edge of a large leather chair trying to read what was on his laptop screen while dangling a happy Sara from his foot and bouncing his knee to give her a “horsey ride”. Every time he stopped to scroll the page or make an adjustment, she smacked him on the knee and said “Giddyap!” Seeing Spike in the doorway, she shouted, “Whoa, horsey!” and ran to her beloved Uncle Will. The vampire scooped her up and accepted Xander’s silent look of thanks, walking over behind him to claim a chaste kiss, ruffling Willow’s hair as he crossed behind her chair.

“We’re all meeting in here in a few minutes,” Spike told the others. “Want to get Jase and the Bit?” Willow nodded and punched a few buttons on the large phone in the center of the table. When Dawn answered, she told the younger woman to gather her husband and all the printouts and come to the conference room. Dawn and Jase arrived at the same time as Angel, Buffy and Cordelia. Everyone settled around the table and drinks were handed around.

Buffy filled everyone in on their not-very-productive experiences, and Cordelia distributed pages printed from the various websites. She launched into a synopsis of their findings. “OK, there seem to be three types of these ‘vamp groupie’ websites. There are gossip/ news ones that have sightings, histories, that sort of thing. Most of those knew about you guys being at 668 on Saturday, a couple had pictures. A few of them mentioned Dru, but it was always that she was seen briefly in some vamp hangout or other.” She paused and threw a page onto the table. It was a photograph of Drusilla standing in a doorway. The camera had caught her profile, and she had an evil smirk on her face.

Xander reached out and pulled the paper toward him. He traced a finger down the line of her profile, but did not comment. He felt the reassuring weight of Spike’s hand on his shoulder and dipped his head to rest his cheek against it for a moment. Cordelia resumed speaking. “The second kind of site was more trashy, supermarket-tabloid kind of stuff. They had a lot of wild speculation and some stuff I think they just made up. Those were the ones most likely to mention the agency by name, though, so hey – free advertising. You guys can read this stuff at your leisure, but the best lie I found was that I’m carrying Angel’s love child and that Buffy has turned to seeking the comfort of Ignath demons to cope with her heartbreak over it.” Amid laughter, Buffy squeaked indignantly, “Hey! Ignath demons are nasty – they have that mucous.”

Cordelia shook her head. “The third type of site was just plain disturbing. They had tributes to specific vampires, with all these weird manipulated photos and they even had fiction stories written about different vamps, er, doing stuff with other vamps and non-vamps and well, everybody. Um, Spike – you’re very popular on those. I think you may have a cult.” Spike looked interested at that tidbit. “And I’m hoping that some of the pictures I saw are fakes. Just out of curiosity, are there really photos in existence of you wearing nothing but handcuffs and leather chaps?” Spike met her eyes and smiled broadly. “Photos? Hmmm, not that I remember, but ….” He trailed off and everyone laughed. Xander shot him a questioning look and gave his lover an exaggerated pout when the vampire shook his head.

They all sat quietly for a moment. “So, we’ve got nothing, right?” Xander asked. “We know she’s around, but that’s not getting us any closer.” Spike rubbed his arm reassuringly. “Pet, I don’t think finding her is going to be a problem. If she’s here, then she’s planning something. I have a feeling she’ll find us. We just have to make sure we’re ready.” There were grim nods all around the table. Sighing, Xander stood and stretched. “Is it dinner time yet?” he asked plaintively. Spike reached out to rub the human’s flat belly, and then hoisted Sara higher on his shoulder. “Let’s see what we can come up with,” he suggested as he led the group back to the kitchen.