Spoon 

by Hannah

A spoon.

Why was he looking at a spoon?

"Why am I looking at a spoon?" Xander stood up quickly, frowning at the metal object thrust in his face moments ago.

"Cause I'm *tryin'* to prove somethin'." Spike said matter-of-factly, waving the spoon again, dangerously near the boy's nose.

"Watch the face!" Xander said, stepping back again. He tripped over the edge of the laundry basket and was suddenly thankful he'd never got around to doing it, because he promptly landed on a pile of dirty clothes and *not* an empty platic basket.

Spike took no notice, and flailed his arm again. "This spoon will not do."

Xander blinked. "Spike, I think you've finally followed in Drusilla's footsteps. Put the spoon down and step away from the cutlery..."

Spike glared at him. "I'm not crazy, thank you very much. I am just tired of *this*." The spoon was shown again. Before Xander could comment on his sanity - or lack of, therefore - Spike continued. "This is all I own. *All* I bloody own is this spoon!"

Xander gave him a 'so what's your point?' look.

"This isn't what I fancy! I own a mansion, minions, *Dru*, and a sense o' pride. Not this soddin' spoon!" Spike fumed, yelling more at the unfortunate utensil than Xander.

Xander stood up, feeling a pang of sympathy. Just a pang though. Nothing big. "Well nothing *I* can do about that."

"Oh but that's not true..." Spike said, his eyes glinting in almost a mad manner. Crazy mad, not angry mad. Xander took another step back, carefully over the little pile of clothes. "See, I could own a *lot* of things." Spike whispered, his eyes locked on the man's brown ones. "But there's only one thing I really want to - mmph!"

Xander stared in disbelief and amusement as the advancing vampire tripped and fell face-first into the dirty clothes. Seeing the pair of boxers buried under the peroxide blond's head finally set Xander off and he launched into a fit of laughter.

He was only vaguely aware of Spike sitting up, but when his laughter died away Xander was suprised to see the vampire sitting slouched over his knees, *not* fixing him with a deadly stare. In fact, he was looking at him with big blue eyes, softer than they'd ever been. And he looked really, really sad.

"Spike?" Xander asked, sitting down on the floor so he could see him better. And also because he had a feeling that having your head facig the ground but your eyes gazing up must hurt. Why was he suddenly caring what hurt Spike?

"What." The vampire grumbled.

"What" Don't say it! "is" Stop now! "wrong?" Ahh! Bad Xander! Don't care! You can't care! Xander only hoped he *looked* like how Spike felt meant nothing to him.

Spike saw right through the dead-set face. The sod cared. How sweet. Spike wanted to strangle Xander for caring, but decided that maybe actually telling him what was wrong might be worse punishment.

"What's wrong?" Spike asked the floor dejectedly. It didn't respond. "My life, that's what. My whole life is wrong. None of it is right!"

Xander wanted to state that if it was wrong, it quite obviously couldn't be right, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I 'ave nothing." Spike said, looking up and pinning Xander with that miserable gaze again. "Not a soddin' thing to my name. Not *even* my name! Some new bloke from the Crescent Way cemetary called 'imself Spike and now everyone's ravin' about 'ow great 'e is. Just 'cause 'e can 'urt 'umans..."

"Not gonna get much sympathy from me there." Xander said, letting him know he cared, but not enough to forget his role as slayerette extordinaire.

"Yah, well the worst part isn't 'avin' anythin'. And now I can't even try to bloody seduce someone without falling into a tombstone or onto a pile of dirty underwear!" Spike was staring down again, focused on a lone sock that had tumbled out of the pile he was sitting on.

Xander was sure that if he was capable of raising one eyebrow, he would have. But unfortunately he wasn't blessed with the talent, so he simpy raised both. "Seduce? You were trying to seduce me?"

Spike looked up at him again, eyes glistening but unhappy, and Xander just wanted to laugh again because *Spike* had been trying to seduce *him*. He held it in for the vampire's sake.

"Well... I mean..." What the hell could say he for comfort? 'You didn't need to, I already think you're hot?'. Yes, that's right Xander, confess your lusty feelings for the mocking dead guy and see how long he laughs before he spreads the word. "You don't have to." He settled on. Could be interpreted either way.

"Why not?" Spike said, still miserable. So Xander didn't want him. Surprise, surprise. He should have seen it coming.

"Because... well..." Xander was about to fabricate something when on an impulse he looked up and caught the vampire staring at him. Urging him with every curve of his lips, with every angle of his face, and every wave in his hair to tell the truth.

How could he lie to that?

"Because you do it every day." Xander said, looking down but still feeling Spike's eyes on him. "In everything you do or say. And you don't know it, but you do."

Spike blinked. What? "I do?"

"Spike." Xander said slowly, as if what he was about to say was very imprtant. "You are a hopeless flirt."

Spike grinned despite his pain. "Well thanks, pet." But he knew what was coming. 'So why should I let it affect me?'

"And I've got an addiction to hopless flirts."

Okay, maybe Spike *didn't* know what was coming.

"So that means I've got an addiction to you, because-"

"I *get* it, you wanker!" Spike said angrily. Xander looked hurt, and he immediately sighed. "No, I mean... you don't 'ave to explain'."

"Oh." Xander said. "So."

"So?"

"So... I don't know!"

"I don't either, pet."

They stared at eachother for a moment, usure what to do.

"So, do we 'ave to talk or somethin'?" Spike asked, his voice edged with a bit of a whine.

"Uh... I'm not much good at that. But I mean, if you want to." Xander said, uncomfortable. Dating Anya had accustomed him to less talk and more action.

"Well, only if you want to." Spike said.

"What if I... didn't?"

"Well then that'd be fine with me."

More akward silence.

"So..."

Xander glared at Spike.

"What?" The vampire asked defensively.

"No. Uh..." Xander stared at Spike's mouth for a moment. "Okay, say flo."

"Flo?"

"Say it!"

Spike shook his head but said it anyway. "Flo."

Xander grasped his shoulders, now kneeling in front of the blond vampire. "No. Say it but hold the o."

Spike gave him an incredulous look but the look Xander gave him could melt glass. "Okay. Floooooohhhhh..." His o turned into a moan as Xander swiftly leaned in and caught his lips.

Spike quickly responded, moving his mouth in time with the dark-haired mortal's. Within minutes, Xander's tongue was exploring his mouth and Spike surrendered himself to his ministrations. They were both equally surprised that Xander had taken the lead, but neither minded a great deal.

Spike was pushed back against the laundry and he stretched his legs out, Xander lying down flush against the cool body. Finally the dark-eyes man pulled back, a huge dopey grin on his face that contradicted the boldness he'd just used.

"Spike?" He said, resting his forehead against the vampire's pale one.

"Mhmm?" Spike murmered drunkenly, dazed with pleasure.

"You were wrong about this." Xander lifted his head and reached past Spike to pick up something. A spoon suddenly appeared inches from Spike's nose. "It's not the only thing you own."

"Really?"

"Really." Xander said, his eyes focused on Spike's lips hungrily.

"What else is it that I got, then, luv?"

Chocolatey-brown eyes lifted slowly up from the supple lips to meet sparkling blue ones. "Me."

***********

The End