Chapter 35
Spike kicked the back of Buffy’s seat one last time, and then ducked the magazine that was tossed at him over its high back. Leaning forward, he reached between the seats and pulled her ponytail. She popped up onto her knees in the seat and glared at him. “Why aren’t you asleep?” she whispered, glancing pointedly at Xander, who was sleeping peacefully in his fully reclined seat with a cashmere throw draped over him. Angel was asleep in his seat also. “Wired,” Spike explained. She smiled, “Me, too.” Spike stood up from his seat and gestured to the other side of the small private jet they’d chartered for the flight, where two seats stood opposite a small table. The chairs were made of cream-colored leather and the shade of lamp attached to the table was Tiffany glass. As they slid into the comfortable chairs, the door to the cabin opened and a steward entered.
By the blue tone of the demon’s skin, not to mention the short horns on its forehead, Spike knew it was a Mithrasil. The race was known to be mildly prescient, so it figured that they would be useful in service industries – they’d pretty much always know when you were ready to order, if not what. The steward bustled to the back of the cabin to access the small kitchen, and then returned with cups of coffee for both of them, pointedly announcing, “Decaf,” as he placed them on the table. Spike snorted and reached for the sugar, while Buffy poured enough cream into hers to make it light brown. They sipped in silence for a moment.
“You love him,” Buffy stated baldly, watching Spike over the rim of her cup. He nodded, looking across the aisle at Xander’s sleeping form. When his eyes met hers again, she asked, “Does he love you?” Spike smiled, and it was a pure, open smile, with no guile or smugness in it. “He will.” She nodded. “That’s good,” she said. “I think it’s your natural state – both of you – being in love.” At Spike’s open-mouthed look she smirked. “What, I can’t be insightful?” He closed his mouth and then took another sip of his coffee. “I never said you couldn’t, Slayer, but it still gives me the wiggins, to quote you – and him.” They shared a smile.
They sipped quietly for a few moments, and then Buffy said, “You know, Dawn and Jase are going to try to have a sibling for Sara.” She blinked as the brilliant smile lit up the vampire’s face again. “That’s great,” he said. “When are you and Angel going to make a baby?” She spluttered, “Us? We can’t … vampire …” He laughed softly. “Well, I was thinking that with Red in town, you could get her to invoke the mojo and actually make one.” Her eyes widened. “You mean, like, in the kitchen with the herbs and chanting and the mortar and pestle kind of making?” He nodded. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She tried again. “I don’t know if he wants … if we’re ready … um … I have to think about that, a lot.” She grimaced at Spike. “Now I’ll never get to sleep.” He sipped his coffee and grinned. The steward reappeared and started clearing their cups, telling them to return to their seats for the descent into Atlanta.
Xander flopped backward onto the king-sized bed as Spike pressed a bill into the bellhop’s hand and slammed the door behind him. The vampire noted that his lover had already kicked off his shoes and untucked his black shirt so that it rode up over his lean belly. Xander had one forearm draped over his eyes as he sprawled bonelessly on the huge bed amid a dozen throw pillows. “I’m really digging the whole you being rich thing, Spike,” he said. “Does that make me shallow?” Spike kicked off his boots, stripped off his sweater and joined his lover on the bed, mimicking his pose. “I dunno. Would it make you feel any better if I told you that Angel is paying?” Xander rolled onto his side to gape at Spike, who peeked out from under his forearm, blue eyes twinkling merrily. “You made him pay? For the flight and the hotel? Classic,” he pronounced. “Limo, too,” Spike reminded him, and Xander flopped back down on the bed, giggling. “Let’s order a whole shitload of room service, then.” He reached for the phone.
“OK, you win – that’s grosser than me dipping French fries in my milkshake,” Xander conceded, watching Spike eat a slice of apple pie drenched in blood. “What?” the vampire replied, “It’s All-American, innit?” Xander merely shuddered. Spike happily munched his pie and watched Xander alternately eat bites of chocolate mousse and key lime pie, sometimes mixing the two together before shoving the whole green and brown spoonful into his mouth. Reaching over, the vampire snared the maraschino cherry that decorated the dollop of whipped cream topping the mousse. Xander deftly snatched it out of his hand and popped it into his mouth, stem and all. He chewed happily, and then smiled at Spike’s outraged look. “Mine,” he explained. “’Sides, I have to show you my one and only bar trick.” Spike watched as Xander contorted his face for a couple of minutes, and then grinned broadly when the human stuck out on his tongue. The cherry stem rested there, tied in a neat knot. Spike swooped in and kissed Xander, then broke the kiss to spit the knotted cherry stem across the room.
They fell back onto the bed; travel-weary and full, happy to simply lay side by side, hands lightly touching. Spike was loath to break the mood, but needed to ask Xander a question. Rubbing his hand lightly up the human’s tanned arm, he looked up at the ceiling and asked, “How do you want me to play this with your in-laws, Xan?” Xander covered Spike’s hand with his own and pressed down. “I’m thinking partial truth. I’ll just introduce you and Angel and Buffy as my friends and leave it at that. It’s not really any of their business, and it would be cruel to rub their faces in it.” Spike remained quiet for a moment, and then spoke. “Which d’you think would bother them more, that you’ve got somebody new, or that the somebody is male?” Xander leaned his head against Spike’s shoulder. “I dunno,” he sighed. “Does it matter?” He shrugged, and then turned to lay a light kiss on the vampire’s neck.
“So, you’re saying I’ve got you?” he asked. Spike’s eyes opened sleepily. “Huh?” Xander met his eyes. “You said I’ve got somebody new. That’s you. So I’ve got you, right?” Spike’s eyes closed and he sighed. “Do we have to be all soft and fluffy and talk about feelings now?” he mock-whined. Xander lightly bumped their heads together. “Yes,” he laughed. “Yes, we do – my soft and fluffy little heart needs it. Spill.” Spike hauled himself up on one elbow so he could look down into Xander’s face. “You had me at ‘hello’,” he quoted. Xander giggled. “Except I never said ‘hello’. You opened the door before I could knock and you growled at me and I said ‘Spike, it’s me, Xander.’”
“That’s true,” Spike conceded. “Actually, Xan, you had me from the moment you told me that you burned for me – in my kitchen, against the refrigerator. You’ve got me – as much as you want for as long as you want.” He watched as Xander’s eyes darkened, and heard the human’s heartbeat speed up slightly. “That was hot,” he rasped, tongue darting out to moisten suddenly dry lips as he savored the memory of the kiss. “Stopping you was so hard; I didn’t want to, but I needed to.” Spike nodded. “I know, pet, I understood. Besides, you were worth waiting for. That fluffy enough for ya?” Xander’s smile softened and the bright flare of lust mellowed. He leaned up and placed a soft kiss on Spike’s cheek, then rubbed his own cheek over the spot he’d just kissed. They both shifted their weight so that they could wrap their arms around one another, with Xander lying half on top of Spike, their faces still pressed together.
With cool fingers carding through his hair, Xander tried to put a name to the way he was feeling. Safe came to mind, and warm, and loved, but none of those words seemed to cover the entire concept. He tightened his arms a little more, and smiled at the answering pressure from Spike’s. Home, he thought. I’m home. Not Atlanta – Spike. Glancing at the window to make sure the blackout drapes were in place, Spike flipped the corner of the bedspread up to cover them and drifted off to sleep.