Chapter Eight

After the phone calls were made, Xander had gone back to bed. Once there, he had relived the kiss a hundred times, and had looked blindly up at the ceiling and asked Shari for her forgiveness or her blessing or something to help him not feel awful. His heart ached at the thought that hers were no longer the last lips his had kissed. At the same time, it soared at the joy that little kiss had brought him. Kissing Spike had been so much better than he had ever imagined it. Still struggling with his emotions, he had finally slept.

When he awoke the next afternoon, he had found all the arrangements finalized. Xander, Spike, Jase, Dawn and Sara would leave Sunnydale at sundown on Friday, two days hence, to meet the L.A. contingent at Angel's hotel. Willow would fly into LAX that same night. Then Xander would take the floor and tell the story he’d been carrying around for six months.

He’d been a little embarrassed to face Spike the next morning, but the awkwardness had passed as soon as he’d realized that Spike was still treating him the same way. They had eaten, and then cleaned the kitchen. Xander had asked about the changes in Sunnydale over the years, so they had watched TV until full dark and then headed out in Xander’s car to take a tour.

Xander had enjoyed pointing out some of the places he’d worked and sites where he’d gotten his ass kicked repeatedly. Spike had dredged up at least one spectacularly implausible demon-killing story for each of the seven cemeteries they had passed. At the eighth, Xander had parked the car and they had exited the vehicle in silence. Spike reached into the backseat for the bag they’d gotten earlier, and they had moved grimly up the path. They stopped in front of a beautifully carved headstone – each pausing to read the words there: "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends." As one they had stooped to pull a few weeds from around the grave’s perimeter. Once finished, they had carefully unpacked the flowers and placed them reverently on Tara Maclay’s grave. They’d stood in silence for a moment, and then Xander had begun to speak.

“Hey, Tara. I’ve kinda been a long time gone, but, then again, so have you. I’ve missed you. We brought you some flowers.” He smiled down at the slender white blooms he’d placed in the vase attached to the headstone. “The calla lilies are from Willow. She misses you the most, I think. She’s going to come see you herself, soon. Next week.” He grinned and looked over at Spike, who raised his eyebrow at him. “The roses are from me and Spike. He wanted red and I wanted white, so we compromised and got some of each.” Xander chuckled. “You’re probably spinning in there to hear that Spike and I have compromised, but, hey – times change, people change, vampires change.” Xander cleared his throat against the lump that was forming. “Tara, I need to ask you to do something for me. You were always so good – the best of all of us, so I know you’re in whatever place the good people go to.” His voice roughened and became more urgent. “There’s somebody new there, somebody who’s very special to me.” He laughed again and it almost sounded like a sob. “You can’t miss her – tiny little Asian girl, she’s probably kicking everybody’s ass. Her name is Shari Harris and she’s either pregnant or has a little baby with her; I’m not sure how things work there. That little baby is my son, Lex. If…if you could watch out for them, I’d really appreciate it. I know if it can be done, you’ll do it. And I promise that I’ll do a better job of taking care of Willow for you from now on.” He paused, tears streaming unheeded down his face as he bowed his head. On a deep, shuddering breath he whispered, “Tell them I love them.”

Spike touched his elbow and stepped past him to lay his hand on the top of Tara’s headstone, standing silently with his head bowed for a moment. He then turned and stood directly in front of Xander, offering comfort, if the taller man needed it. Xander lifted his head and met Spike’s eyes, which were bright with unshed tears. He leaned his forehead against Spike’s and closed his eyes. Each man’s hand came up to rest at the nape of the other’s neck, and they stood silently for a long time.

After visiting Tara’s grave they had stopped at the convenience store for ice cream. On returning to Spike’s Victorian they had each eaten an enormous hot fudge sundae and then had settled onto the couch to watch a movie. By halfway through the most recent remake of “Dracula” they had moved slowly but surely from their spots at either end of the couch toward the middle and each other. Finally Spike had simply used his superior strength to manhandle Xander into position so that they were spooned together with Xander’s back pressed against his chest, Spike’s hand draped over Xander’s side with their fingers loosely intertwined, a blanket thrown over them. By the end of the movie they were both asleep, Xander’s head pillowed on Spike’s bicep and one of Spike’s legs caught between Xander’s, the other following the curve of the human’s backside; Spike’s nose buried in the wavy, silken hair at the back of Xander’s neck.

Sometime during the night, Spike had woken to the exquisite feel of Xander pressing a warm, soft kiss to his palm and closing his hand around it. He had been unable to stop himself from returning the kiss to the back of the human’s neck. He’d then waited, holding an unneeded breath as Xander had murmured in his sleep. When he’d made out the words, “Mmmmmmm … Spike” he had sighed with relief and slipped back to sleep.



In the early afternoon, Spike had awoken very glad that he didn’t need to breathe. Somehow, Xander had managed to reverse their positions and was now lying almost directly on top of Spike, who was face down on the couch. Xander’s chin was hooked over the vampire’s shoulder, one arm was hanging off the edge of the couch and the other was curled around Spike so that they were both lying on top of it. Spike could feel Xander’s warm hand covering his chest and wondered how it could still be warm with the circulation cut off by their combined weight. The other thing Spike had noticed was what felt like a very substantial morning erection pressed against his ass.

He was having an “angel on one shoulder, devil on the other” conversation with himself when the human began to stir. The devil was all for wiggling around a bit to see what kind of wonderful things they could do with Xander’s morning wood; the angel was concerned with how embarrassed the boy was going to be when he woke up in this position. Xander’s returning consciousness dictated a quick decision, so Spike decided to take the chicken’s way out. He pretended to be asleep until the boy hauled himself off of the smaller body, making hissing noises about the “pins and needles” sensation in his arm. He had then leaned down and given Spike a short, hard kiss on the cheek and wandered off to the bathroom.

The rest of the day had been peaceful. They had moved about the house, straightening up and dealing with normal domestic chores. In the late afternoon Xander had gone outside to mow the lawn, a job usually handled by Jase. Xander enjoyed the physical labor and the feeling of the afternoon sun on his bare shoulders. Since arriving in Sunnydale, he really had been keeping vampire hours, so this was one of the few times he’d been out in the daylight. He carefully worked his way around Spike’s lawn, and then spent another hour trimming the bushes and weeding the plantings. Upon returning to the house at sunset, he’d found Spike in the kitchen, sitting at the table wearing his glasses and flipping through a cookbook. Xander helped himself to a beer and stood in front of the open refrigerator door to cool off. He turned to find crystal blue eyes on him, and Spike’s head tilted as he scented the air.

“Sorry,” Xander had ducked his head, embarrassed at his smell. “I’m sure I reek.”

The blue eyes had swiveled to his face. “You smell like sunshine.” The vampire’s tone was wistful.

“You miss it, don’t you?” Xander asked, in a sudden burst of perceptiveness.

The glasses were removed, the earpiece slipping between pink lips. “I do,” Spike said slowly. “I loved the sunlight when I was human – I loved the warmth, the way it soaked into my bones.” He barked a short laugh. “Did you know about the Gem of Amarra?” He looked at Xander, who nodded. “I had it for a little while. I wasted it. I used my time to try and kick the Slayer’s ass. I should have left town. I could have been on the beach, but I just had to use it to try and beat Buffy. I was so stupid then.” He sighed. “I should have known that she’d stomp me and take it away, she usually did.”

Xander closed the door of the refrigerator and sat down across from Spike. He tapped his finger on the cover of the cookbook to draw the vampire out of his reflective mood. “Hey, why don’t I cook tonight? I’ll give you a taste of what little Southern cooking I learned in Atlanta.” Spike grinned at him and nodded enthusiastically. “Cool. I’ll get a shower and then get started – you go … do whatever you do when I’m not here.” He made a vague waving gesture with his hand. “Whatever that is.”

Spike grinned at him. “OK, that sounds good to me. Anything special you want to do tonight?”

Xander thought for a moment. “Nah, let’s just hang. I think we would both appreciate some downtime before we get thrown into the big L.A. slumber party. I need to make some calls and stuff anyway.”

Rising from his seat Spike nodded. “Sounds good to me – I’ll be in the library if you want me.” He left the room, still chewing on his glasses absently.

Oh, I’m pretty sure I want you, Xander thought, watching the vampire walk out the door. Pulling on his beer Xander thought about how he’d woken up that morning. He had played it cool, but waking up with his hard on pressed tightly against the cleft of Spike’s ass was a memory that was sticking in his head like a burr in a hiking sock. The body under his had been so hard, not soft and yielding like Shari’s. Shari had been strong, but so tiny and feminine – Spike was all hard muscle and sinew. He fought down the urge to run into the library and jump the blond. With a sigh he headed up to the shower.

Xander wiped his hand on the dishtowel draped over his shoulder and slapped Spike’s hand away from the lid of the frying pan. “No you don’t – you’ll screw it up.” Xander’s eyes darkened as the vampire raised the hand to his mouth, sucking at the red spot the tap had made. He pulled the hand away from Spike’s mouth with a small, wet sound. Never taking his eyes off of the blue ones before him, he gently kissed the spot, then licked it, then, on impulse, bit it lightly. Xander felt himself become instantly erect when Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head and a low growl emanated from him. When the blue eyes met his again, they were cloudy with passion.

Xander suddenly found himself pinned against the door of the refrigerator. Spike’s hands were on either side of his head, his own arms hanging at his sides. The vampire’s hard body was sealed against his from breastbone to groin, and there was no mistaking his intent, as their erections pressed firmly together, each fitting into the curve of the other’s hip. Their faces were barely an inch apart. Xander sucked in a shaky breath and shifted his hips experimentally against Spike; they both hissed at the contact and Spike stretched his neck to close the distance between their lips. This was not the gentle exploration of the previous night; Xander could feel the stainless steel behind his head, cool and hard. The mouth against his was also cool and hard, and Spike was plundering his mouth, sweeping his tongue around Xander’s and tangling them together. Xander moaned into the mouth on his and brought his hands up to wind into the surprisingly soft blond waves.

As Xander’s fists closed in his hair, Spike opened his mouth even wider and thrust his lower body against Xander’s in a long, taut stroke that sent Xander’s senses spinning. Spike broke the kiss and started speaking, stopping to kiss and lick Xander’s neck between phrases. Xander’s head rolled against the barrier behind him as he tried desperately to make sense of the vampire’s words over the rush of blood in his head. “God, Xan – you’re so hot. You feel so good. Want you so much.” Xander gasped as blunt teeth nibbled over his jugular, followed by the slick rasp of his tongue. “Stop me, luv – if you don’t want me stop me now.” Xander couldn’t believe the naked, begging tone against his neck. Tightening his hands in the blond’s hair until he knew it had to hurt, he reluctantly dragged Spike’s mouth away from his neck, putting a couple of inches between their faces, but not moving their bodies apart at all.

He stared into Spike’s face until the blue eyes opened and looked back at him, and he winced at the pain he saw there. “Oh, God” Spike groaned. “I’m sorry, luv” he gritted out. “It was just that you bit me, and, well – vampire.” He tried to smile, but fell short, looking down. Using the hands still coiled in the blond hair, Xander forced Spike to meet his eyes. Making sure that the other man was looking at him, he moved his own hips against Spike in a lazy thrust once, and then again. When the blue eyes started to cloud again with passion, he stopped, and they both panted harshly for a moment. Xander tilted his head and brushed his mouth against the kiss-bruised lips before him.

“I stopped you for a reason, and it’s not that I don’t want you.” He shifted his hips again for emphasis. “I think you can feel how much I want you, Will. I burn for you.” He paused, and kissed those beautiful lips again lightly. “I stopped you because this has to wait until you know the whole story of why I’m here. I can’t risk this going too far until you know everything.”

Blue eyes searched his face, and then the vampire nodded once. He kissed Xander lightly and peeled his body away from the wonderfully warm one against him, forcing himself to push off from the refrigerator with both hands. Once he was standing in his own space, he laid his hand flat on Xander’s chest to feel his heartbeat. He smiled as he felt it thud quickly under his palm. “OK, Xan. I’ve waited this long; I can wait another day or so. You can tell me in your own time and in your own way.” He sighed and removed his hand from the brunet, running that same hand through his hair. “But I don’t think there’s anything you can tell me that will make me not want you.” He pretended not to hear when Xander whispered, “I hope that’s true” as he turned back to the stove just in time to save the fried chicken.

Grunts and moans filled the air in the kitchen as mouths worked feverishly and hands became slick. Spike and Xander devoured the pieces of fried chicken like starving men, pausing only to add to the growing pile of soiled paper napkins on the table between them. Once they had each reduced several pieces of chicken to small piles of bones, they feasted on the rice and cream gravy, green beans, creamed corn and fluffy biscuits Xander had prepared. Xander drained his glass of iced tea and Spike thumped his empty blood mug down on the table. Both men reached under the table and unbuttoned the top buttons of their jeans to ease the pain of overfull stomachs.

“Bloody hell, that was good!” Spike exclaimed. “How’d you get so skinny if they feed you like that all the time, whelp?”

Xander grinned and smothered a belch in yet another napkin. “Spike, my wife was Japanese – we were much more likely to have sushi than fried chicken. I got this stuff maybe once a month – if I was lucky.” He smiled across the table. “And I’m not skinny – I’m trim.” Xander tried in vain to suck in his distended belly. He groaned with the effort. “OK, I’m fat.”

“Not fat – you’re fluffy.” Spike howled with laughter at the expression that comment caused on Xander’s face. “I’m sorry – it’s something we told Dawn when she was preggers with the Littlest Bit. Come to think of it, she didn’t like it either.” He ducked as a crumpled napkin soared toward him, still chuckling.

“I’m glad you enjoyed dinner – I haven’t cooked in a while. Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

They were still sitting in companionable silence when the phone rang. They looked at one another for a moment and automatically dropped into a game of “Rock, Paper, Scissors” to see who had to get up and answer it. Xander lost. He sighed deeply and dragged himself to his feet. Spike watched him lean against the wall to answer the phone, one hand rubbing at the soft hair on his lower abdomen.

“Hello?” he paused, listening. “This is he. Hello, sir. Is anything wrong?” Spike tensed to cross the room to Xander, but relaxed when the other man did the same, slumping back into his position against the wall. “Oh, good. I was scared for a minute.” Xander laughed sheepishly. “I forgot I left you this number when I called last night – I thought there was some kind of emergency. Paranoia – it’s not a pretty thing, I know.” Another long pause, then Xander laughed. “Really? That’s awesome. I’ll be in L.A. for a week or so starting Saturday. We should get together.” Another pause. “You really want to do that? For me? I’m, well, I’m honored, sir. Sunday? Well, I’ll be with some friends, and we’re pretty booked during the day – would evening work?” Xander turned a brilliant smile on Spike, and the vampire wondered what had his human so excited. “That’s awesome! Thank you, sir. Hey – the friends I’m staying with have a great gym – do you want to come to us? Great – I’ll call you with details when we get into L.A.” Xander concluded his phone call and practically bounced back to his seat at the table.

Spike raised an eyebrow in question. “What’s got you so Tigger-ish, pet?”

“Number one – you with the Disney references? Big wiggins.” Xander smiled at Spike’s scowl. “Number two – that was my master. Down vampire!” he squeaked. “Not that kind of master – my martial arts teacher – head guy – master! It’s a rank!” Spike’s eyes had flashed yellow, his nostrils had flared and he’d snarled almost inaudibly when the word “master” had left Xander’s lips. Spike shook his head and smiled apologetically as Xander’s hand came up to rest flat against his face, under the sharp cheekbone. He covered the hand with his own.

“Sorry, luv. Don’t like you calling anyone master.” He bit his tongue to avoid adding “Anyone but me.”

Xander considered that for a moment, and then shrugged, mentally filing his questions about the demon away for another time. He looked into Spike’s eyes again, pleased to see that they were clear blue once again. Both men dropped their hands to the table, and Xander began to speak again, carefully.

“My … teacher is going to be in L.A. this weekend working with some of his private students. He wanted to know if I’d be interested in sparring with them. It’s a big honor to be asked. I figured you and Buffy, and maybe Angel would like to play. You think Angel will care that I offered up his facilities? Martial arts schools are full of mirrors – I thought that would be a dead giveaway, pardon the pun. You interested?”

“Yeah, pet, that would be fun. And don’t worry about Angel – I think he’ll be game to play host. Any of these fellas as good as you?” Spike smirked.

“Some of them are better” Xander replied.

“Yeah, “Spike remarked airily, “But can they cook fried chicken?”