Welcome to Valhalla 
by Kaz 
Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten  Part Eleven  Part Twelve  Part Thirteen  Part Fourteen 

Part One

Two months. Two months of fighting night after night at Buffy's side, had
left Xander so exhausted that he fell onto his bed still fully clothed.

It would have stood to reason that any sane demon {{What the *heck* was I
thinking?}} after their incarceration by the Initiative, would have left
Sunnydale in a mad rush of horns, tentacles and slime. Unfortunately, this
had not been the case. 

Buffy and the Scooby Gang had spent the last eight weeks fighting just
about every pissed off demon on the Hellmouth. Xander was almost certain
that some had even telephoned their friends to come and join the party. 
{{And my, aren't there a lot of them. Thank you soooo much, soldier boys.
You slam them all into cells then run out of time and chips to 'de-tooth'
them}}.

The stress and constant need to protect Sunnydale was beginning to tell on
all of them. Which had left one Xander Harris, tired, horny and pissed
off. 

The anger came from the little 'dreamscape' curtesy of the first Slayer. 
It was bad enough to have a vague inkling that your life was going nowhere.
But when some 'primal slayer' holds it up in your face and rips your heart
out in the process... Suffice {{Oooh, a Giles word, I *must* be tired}}.
Suffice to say, Xander could feel the anger and frustration boiling up
within him like a volcano with the lid screwed down tight.

When the phone rang, he just lay there and glared. If the instrument had
been combustible in any form, it would have been cinders by now.

He groaned as he rolled over, every muscle ached as he sat and picked up
the receiver. "Go away Giles. Wrong number. Xander has moved to Alaska and
is now making a fantastic living organising snowball fights for the Playboy
organisation. Please leave a message after the sound of naked flesh and
snow angels. Beeep."

"Oh, ah, Xan..Xander?" Tara's slight stutter down through the earpiece
caused him to flop back onto the bed and attempt to smother himself with a
pillow.

With a deep sigh, Xander acknowledged the question. "Yeah, it me. What's up
Tara? Is Willow okay?"

"She's asleep," the blonde witch whispered quietly. "I..I'm sorry to bother
you Xander, but on the way home I saw a Vankerluuw demon."

"A Wank demon?" Xander asked {{ Note to self Harris. See Anya tomorrow
afternoon}}

"Vankerluuw," Tara corrected. "It was heading towards the new nightclub
that just opened on the other side of town. I've tried calling Buffy and
Giles but I can't get through. And Willow can't go out again tonight, that
last spell drained her. I'm..I'm afraid if I wake her up and she tries
to.."

Brain dead with exhaustion as he was, Xander could hear the anxiety in
Tara's voice. "It's okay Tara," he hurried to reassure her. "I'll take care
of it."

The relief expressed by Tara before she hung up thoroughly showed just how
tired everyone was. Which left Xander in something of a dilemma. 

He knew for a fact that Buffy had quietly but effectively disconnected her
Watchers phone just before leaving with Riley. He also knew, that
unbeknownst to the Slayer, Giles had pulled Riley aside and told him to
take Buffy home and make sure she didn't get up before noon.

"Oh, shit," Xander buried his head back under the pillow. He hadn't even
bothered to ask Tara what a Vankerview? demon *was*.

{{Okay, think Xander, think. Who knows demons? Who would know how to fight
a..a.., oh fuck it, a Wank demon? Who wasn't drop dead exhausted? No one.
Crap!}} 

It started off as a sluggish vague thought, then slipped into an idea. He
sat bolt upright on the bed, a wide grin forming.

{{Ooh, but I know someone who's dead. I know someone who has been sitting
back in their cosy little crypt for the last eight weeks doing jack shit
about all the trouble they helped cause. I know a Spike!}} he finished in
triumph.

Pleased and not to mention a little proud at the chance to get some measure
of pay back on the bleached wonder, Xander quickly changed clothes. He felt
somehow that the iridescent green blood from a demonic encounter earlier
that night clashed with his electric blue Hawaiian shirt. He chuckled,
{{Cordy would be so proud}}. 

The only clothes reasonably clean were some black jeans and a matching
t-shirt, {{I wonder if that's why vamps wear black?}} he mused silently.
{{It really does hide the blood stains}}. He shook his head, he was *not*
going there.

Xander was halfway out of the basement before he remembered the bag of
weapons Giles had asked, nay pleaded, for Xander to clean. He hefted them
up, opened the door and staggered into the night. {{Time to visit Spikey}}
he thought.

He made it to the cemetary unmolested before it even crossed his mind that
Spike might not be home. {{Oh shit!!! What will I do then?}} 
***********

Part Two

"So tell me, mate. What would you 'ave done if I wasn't 'ome?" Spike
drawled sarcastically to the back Xander Harris. Who was currently stomping
about four paces ahead of him. "And might I say, pet. That the new wardrobe
does wonders for you. Black really is your color."

Xander didn't even turn around. "Fuck off, Spike."

Spike laughed. "Your language gets all manly when the bints aren't around.
Have you noticed that?"

Face hard and eyes blazing, Xander turned round and spat out, "What I've
noticed, is you sitting in your crypt doing nothing while the rest of us
clean up your mess. *That's* what I've noticed."

"Turns out my plan wasn't so bad after all," Spike retorted. Then stood
back and waited for the explosion. He was more than a little surprised and
disappointed when the whelp just started sniggering.

"Plan?" Xander asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

Spike frowned, it had been a bleedin' *good* plan. One he was proud of,
{{It would 'ave bloody worked except 'jigsaw' man stuffed it up totally}}.
But Xander's next comment floored him. Xander's next comment insulted Spike
and everything he stood for.

"You...you and Angelus are the undead version of 'Pinky and The Brain'!!"
The boy went on incredulously, and Spike began to growl. Xander's sniggers
turned into full blown laughter. 

"You've tried *how* many times to kill us, Spike? And Deadboy? He goes to
open Hell and ends up getting sucked right in!!" Xander had managed to gain
some kind of control and was now glaring at Spike. 

Toe to toe they stood on a deserted street in Sunnydale. If someone had
told Spike a year ago he'd be laughed at by a mortal he would have killed
them, slowly. Now? Now he was a cripple reduced to frightening,
*frightening* mortals for enough money to get blood.

What rankled most was that the boy was right. He and Angelus had
underestimated the Slayer and her friends, and paid the price. {{Bleedin'
hell!. These are children who can't even legally *drink* yet! And I didn't
come with you to be insulted like a fuckin' fledge, boy!}}.

Spike regretfully acknowledged why he had said yes when Xander had turned
up at his crypt, half panicked out of his mind. Because, in some twisted,
freaked out, Hellmouthy way, {{And that chip. It must 'ave a friggin' wire
loose or somethin'}}. The vampire had developed a fixation on the boy.

Ever since that night he'd messed with the whelps head. Ever since that
chance off the cuff remark from the ex-vengeance demon chit. {{Ever since
you wanked off imagining the boy as a Viking. Shit, 'e's right! I *am* a
bloody moron}}.

Unseen by Buffy and her friends, Spike had been watching for the last eight
weeks. He'd looked on from a distance as time after time Xander dove
heedlessly into situations that would have sent anyone else screaming in
the other direction. 

At one point, after watching Xander get flung at least eight feet through
the air then pick himself back up again like a rubber doll. Spike had even
admired the whelp, thinking {{ You must 'ave balls the size of South
America, kid....and a brain the size of a peanut.}}

Yet as the weeks rolled on, that view had changed. Spike had snapped the
neck of some demon that had foolishly come too close during one of his
little spying sessions on Xander. Though Spike preferred to think of these
moments as 'gathering info on the enemy', he knew he was only fooling
himself.

Upon hearing the approach of the 'Scooby Gang', the vampire had ducked out
of sight and waited for them to go past. The others had stepped over the
body of the demon without a second glance, all of them except Xander that
is.

Xander had stopped, looked down, back to battle area, then back down at the
corpse.

"Xander," the Slayer's exasperation had been plain to hear. "C'mon, I want
to get home *sometime* before dawn. For a change."

Frowning, Xander had remained still then begun to glance furtively about.
"How did this one get here?" he'd asked.

Hidden in the bushes, Spike had nearly ground his teeth into dust. {{Oh for
Christ's sake! Now is *not* the time for you to start bleedin' thinkin',
nummy}}.

"Maybe it ran into a tree," Willow said helpfully.

Spike had rolled his eyes at that one. {{Oh, sure, pet. Got to watch out
for those tree's. What the bloody hell do you think it is? A demonic
'George of the Jungle'? Shit, I've been watchin' *way* too much telly
lately}}.

Xander had waved his arms about, saying. "But, *how* did it get here?"
Except no one was listening, the group had already turned around and walked
on. With one last hard stare at the surrounding area, Xander had
reluctantly followed.

Through speculative, narrowed eyes, Spike had watched him leave and
muttered to himself. "Do you 'ave any idea how 'e watches your back Slayer?
'ow he watches *all* your backs?" 

******

"Er, Spike?"

The panicked tone in Xander's voice brought Spike back to the present.

"What?" Spike glared at the whelp then followed Xander's wide eyed look.
"Shit. I thought the witch said there was only one of 'em," he growled

Xander was backing up rapidly but stopped to stand at Spike's side. A Spike
who was currently going through the bag Xander had dropped when they had
begun their earlier argument.

He pulled out a small curved Japanese sword for himself, then an axe and
shoved it into Xander's hand. "How many?" he asked brusquely

Spike could smell the fear rolling off the boy as Xander squeaked out
"Seven?"

Another two stepped out from behind some tree's. "Nine," Spike corrected. A
glance told him they were in for it, {{Well this is just bloody *great*!!}}

He grabbed hold of Xander's arm, wheeling the startled boy around and
snarled. "Next time you speak to the witch? Tell her to get some *fuckin'*
glasses, will you?."

"There's going be a next time?" Xander said in amazement, clearly certain
he was a dead man.

"I don't intend to let any scummy demon kill me tonight, pet." Spike said,
fully aware that Xander was in need of some confidence. 

Xander took a deep breath. He looked down at the axe, twisting the handle
slightly in his hand as if getting the feel of it, then his face settled
into an almost calm acceptance.

If Spike had had any breath he would have lost it in admiration. {{Damn,
you are some piece of work Xander Harris!!}}

In full vamp mode and his eyes glowing golden bright in the dark, Spike
commented cheerfully. "Think on the bright side, luv. When a Viking dies in
battle he goes to Valhalla."

Xander's look indicated that he thought Spike had finally 'lost it'. "A
Viking? We're about to be turned into ground beef by a horde of demons and
you're thinking about *Vikings*?"

Laughing wildly, Spike turned so that he was back to back with Xander. As
the demons edged ever closer he said, "I suggest you forget about your
feminine side for tonight, pet. Find the Viking and you might just live."

When the demons finally rushed, all Spike could hear above the howls was
Xander chanting, "Find the Viking, find the Viking..." Closely followed by
a caustic. "Well that's just peachy, Spike. Except I'd look like a fucking
idiot in one of those stupid hats." 
***********
Part Three

Life sucked when fate has cursed you with living on a Hellmouth. It was an
opinion Xander had formed long ago. But to leave him with sweet f.a.
abilities to defend himself against the assorted nasties? That was just
downright spiteful.

Oh sure, his friends were capable of kicking major butt, yet that didn't
help at all when said friends were not around. Xander was so pathetic even
the enemy, a.k.a Spike, wouldn't let him wonder around in the dark. {{I'm
beginning to grasp why the Vikings wore those stupid hats. Okay, sure, not
the easiest fashion accessory to match. But hey, a pair of horns, even
borrowed ones, would at least give me *something*.}}

"Its just not fair!" he muttered to himself. Everyone had some super-duper
power thing going and all he had was his brains and courage. Xander felt
his eyes widen and knew he'd just gone pale,{{Oh God, I am *so* gonna die
tonight}}.

Did his friends think like this when they fought demons six foot high with
bad breath and claws? {{I don't think so!}}. Were they reduced to fighting
companions in the form of a bleached blonde soulless vampire and damned
happy to have them? {{Not a chance! Speaking of which..}}

"I *hope* you're not insulting them?" Xander cried out over his shoulder,
then ducked to avoid a clawed hand the size of a dinner plate. "'Cause, God
forbid, we wouldn't want to get them more pissed off than what they already
are!!."

"Of *course* I'm bleedin' well insulting 'em," Spike snarled. "What did you
want me to do? Invite them back to your place for crumpet and scones?"

Xander grunted and swiped at the head of one demon, the sharpened blade of
his axe took off an ear and clipped a descent portion of its skull. It was
disheartening to know he'd only succeeded in pissing it off.

Almost abruptly as the attack had started, the demons pulled back and just
stood there, watching.

"So, Harris?" 

"WHAT?" Xander yelled back. {{Geez, Spike! I'm kinda busy here at the
moment}}

"Just wonderin' if you've found the Viking yet?" 

Xander frowned. Was he just imagining things or did the vampire sound
almost...wistful?

"NO, Spike," Xander ground out sarcastically. "I have *not* found your
fucking Viking. {{ And why do I get the feeling I should be concerned at
Spike laughing?}}.

"Why couldn't you have asked me to find a 'fluffy bunny'?" Xander moaned.
"I can *do* fluffy bunnies. {{Oooh, Anya dressed in that rabbit
costume!!}}.

Xander felt the smile slip from his face and was mortally offended when
Spike said thoughtfully. "To be honest kid, I always pictured you as the
Elmer Fudd type." 

Spike kept his eyes on the demons. He didn't look too happy nor did he look
psychic but the vampire just snorted in disgust, saying. "I want you to
*kill* the demons, Harris. Not fuck 'em to death. Do you think you can get
your dick into gear long enough to do that?" There was a short silence
before Spike added. "But 'old that thought for later."

{{Huh?}}

Xander felt bile rise up in the back of his throat as he saw the demons
preparing for another attack. Up until now it had been a game with them -
he knew it, they knew it and Spike definitley knew it. The vampires hurried
comment of, "Oh fuck, 'ang on pet, things are about to get interesting,"
was *not* calming in any shape or form.

As the second attack began, Xander took a clumsy swing, completely missing
his target and almost fell over in the process. He jerked himself upright
and found his gaze met by the intended victim. The creatures lips were
curled back revealing crooked broken teeth and it was making a whimpering
noise. Xander was looking for the wound he'd imagined he must have
inflicted before it occurred that he was being laughed at.

It cut to his very core.

It was like another meeting with the primal slayer all over again. Xander
saw himself as the demon saw him and all he could think was, {{FUCK
YOU!!}}.

He felt his face tighten, gripped the axe so hard his knuckles were turning
white. Xander knew he was gripping the axe hard 'cause his hand hurt, and
still, he and the demon were locked in this 'mystic eye holding thingie'.
As if from far away, Xander could hear Spike battling behind him.

{{You think you can laugh at *me*, you bastard?}} came the scream from
within Xander's own mind. {{You think I want to die here alone, away from
my friends? Oh, sorry Spike, forgot about you for a moment}}. He couldn't
help the startled look of shock that came over his face at that last
thought.

With a quick shake of his head, Xander resumed his staring contest with the
demon, and spat in its face, "My name is Xander Harris you useless piece of
shit. I was born and raised on this fucking Hellmouth and I'm pretty
certain that sometime in the future, its gonna kill me. But I'm not ready,
not yet. Not here, not now and definitley not by *you*."

And with a viscous snarl, Xander found the Viking-and the demon found an
axe blade buried in its skull. 

On later recollection- Xander couldn't actually recollect much.

The lid on that volcano inside his head had gone bye bye, along with much
of his common sense. It was an excuse he would cling to long after these
events had passed.

Red mist settled over his eyes. He swung the axe again and again, so much
so, that his arms ached and his back felt like it was being stretched by a
giant.

The crunch of splintered bone and the splatter of blood and brain tissue,
{{Eeeww. The black t-shirt ain't gonna hide that stuff!!}}. Xander was also
aware that he was *hyper* aware.

Hyper aware of exactly where Spike was, hyper conscious that the vampire
could have left him here to die, and hadn't. At one time during the battle,
their positions changed and he and Spike were standing side by side. The
vampire also bore testament of the fight, the once silver blade of Spike's
sword was bloody from tip to hilt. So was Spike for that matter.

Xander chanced a quick glance and let out a harsh chuckle. "When they
called you 'William the Bloody' Spike? I had no idea they meant it
literally."

His face marred by concern Spike looked at Xander, his whole body tense. 
Then he *really* looked and despite the situation, or because of it, the
vampire grinned. Xander's stomach did a really weird twisty turny thing,
and he grinned back.

Pivoting, the vampire cleaved a demon from neck to crotch. "I see you found
'im, pet," and Xander couldn't quite fathom why Spike sounded so smug.

Xander's axe ripped the throat out of another attacker as it went past
before he replied. "Oh, yeah. He and I are having a blast. We've had a chat
though and decided that Valhalla isn't any place we want to visit soon."

"The nights still young, luv." Spike swiftly shot back, golden eyes shining
brightly. "Give me time and maybe I'll change your mind."

The fight went on and on, Xander lost track of pretty much everything, but
strangely enough, not who he was with. {{Spooky!}}.

A scuffle from behind, Xander panicked {{Spike!!}}. In defence of the
vampire his axe whistled through the air, and stopped. Xander's vision
cleared, standing in front of him was Spike, sword in one hand and the
shaft of Xander's axe held firmly in the other.

Spike seemed almost amused. " I didn't spend half the night fighting
demons only to 'ave you kill me when it was all over over,pet!"

Xander blinked, looking around wildly. "Its over?" he asked, not believing
it was so until he heard confirmation.

"Yes, its over."

Raising his eyes to the starry night sky, Xander gasped out. "Thank you,
Odin," then his knees began to buckle.

Spike must have seen it coming. The vampire dropped his sword and reached
out swiftly. Xander found himself in a cold embrace and pondered why
neither of them were screaming. 

He felt strange, almost disconnected, numb, but..not?

Cringing when he heard a low growl, Xander shut his eyes. {{Err, Odin? You
haven't forgotten me yet have you? Might need a little divine assistance
here buddy???}} 

Xander realised he wasn't numb, oh no, not numb at *all*. Not when you're
sporting a boner the size of Kansas. Not when your draped like the heroine
from some bad romance novel in the arms of a vampire who's tried to kill
you more than once.

It still didn't explain why. Why he just stood there and sighed when the
cold tongue of Spike began to trace a slow path from his jaw up to his
scalp. 

It didn't explain why the rush of blood to his dick got faster not slower,
and it didn't explain this strange feeling of rejection when Spike halted
and stepped away.

**********
Part Four

Having never been a poster child for self-control, Spike was surprised he'd
managed to step away. 

A blood covered Xander was a temptation no vampire could resist. Strictly
speaking, a blood covered *anything* would have made Spike happy, and he
could have stayed licking away for some time yet. 

But the vampire had other plans for tonight-namely, seduce and bed the
whelp as quickly as possible and with luck, that would get him out of
Spike's system.

Xander's expression of confusion coupled with the hesitant beginning of
desire convinced the vampire that he'd made the right decision. {{Keep the
whelp off balance, back to his place for a clean up and before he knows
what's happening... }}

So intent was he on the forthcoming fun, that the incandescent assault of a
blazing spotlight sent him shying away in pain.

A disembodied voice called out. "HALT. STAY WHERE YOU ARE. THIS IS THE
SUNNYDALE POLICE. DROP YOUR WEAPONS OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO OPEN FIRE."

{{Noooooo}}

***************


Xander was frozen, doing his best imitation of a statue for the local
police force and trying to look as inoffensive as possible. Although, he'd
never actually *seen* any statue's covered in blood and trying hard not to
piss in their pants, but hey, sometimes you just gotta wing it.

There was savage snarl to his left and Spike cried out, "I don't fuckin'
believe it. I do NOT fuckin' believe it."

Again the voice demanded, "Drop your weapons."

{{Weapons?}}

With arms stretched high, Xander let his eyes drift upwards -to the axe
still clutched in his hand. {{Ooopsie, *that* weapon}}. The axe hit the
grass and it was kinda depressing to see it lying there all alone. He'd
grown rather attached to it over the last hour or so.

Spike was now spitting forth a vitriolic avalanche of insults that Xander
was pretty certain were anatomically impossible. But with vampires, who
knew? 

"Spike!" he hissed.

When the vampire seemed not to hear and the insults slipped into languages
he didn't understand, he began to panic.

"SPIKE!"

Eyes of molten gold so angry they were almost spinning with rage turned
towards him.

"Whoa," Xander took a step back. "Listen, I think I've shed enough blood
for tonight, especially mine. But if you don't drop that sword these guys
are gonna send me on a one way trip to the morgue. I've *seen* the morgue,
not a place I want to *not* see, if you get my drift."

Xander held his breath, eyes pleading. {{C'mon Spike, don't get me killed
by the Sunnydale police. After all the shit I've just gone through, that
would be...well,okay, painfully dead sort of heads the list, but I don't
even wanna think what Giles would say when he finds out}}. 

He was still trying to comprehend which scared him more. The police
shooting him or Giles discovering what he'd been up to and who he'd been
with, when Spike muttered another round of flaming oaths then flung the
sword to the ground.

While the cops started to frisk them, Xander focused his attention on
Spike. There was a faint feeling of compassion, and some semblance of
understanding as he realised just how helpless the other was in situations
like this. 

It was scary to acknowledge that in some instances, he, Xander Harris,
normal guy-was more capable of handling a threat than Spike was. {{Geez, I
bet that scares the shit out of him...it sure as hell scares the shit out
of *me*}}.

He remained curiously indifferent to the barrage of questions fired at him,
until the last one. Then the total stupidity of it all hit, and he started
to snigger. He tried to hold it in, however one glance at a deeply amused
Spike and Xander lost it completely, collapsing into gales of laughter.

********

"Are you guys on drugs? PCP?" 

Spike knew the cops were stupid here, but with the body parts of nine
demons less than twenty feet away this was unbelievable. His head snapped
up when he heard Xander make a gurgling noise. Spike saw he wasn't the only
one who found it amusing, raised his eyebrows, and watched Xander begin to
laugh his guts out.

Ignoring the cops, Spike addressed the near prostrate boy with mock
gravity. "Tell me, pet. Do you know what PCP *really* stands for?"

It took the whelp a few seconds but he finally managed to stand up 
straight. Spike almost nodded with respect at the sight of a carefully
controlled innocent face and wide brown eyes sparkling with contained
mirth. 

Xander leaned forward, replying in a whispered awe struck tone. "No, Spike.
I don't. Do tell."

"PCP, oh innocent one," Spike drawled. "Stands for, 'Procreation cancelled
for Police'." He nodded in the direction of the uniformed officers behind
them. "Once word got out about these dopey bastards, action had to be taken
immediately so they didn't breed."

It appeared that not only are the police in Sunnydale stupid, they also
have a shitty sense of humour. Spike twisted his face into a snarl as both
he and a near hysterically laughing Xander, were slammed up against the
side of the cruiser.

*******


"Hey," Xander growled. "C'mon guys, lighten up." 

<SNICK>

The cold metal bracelet encircling his left wrist doused the remainder of
Xander's amusement. He heard one cop shout but a scream of pain told him
all he needed to know. Spike had decided it was time to fight back.

Xander stepped across to assist the blonde vampire, only to be thrown on
the ground next to the stricken vampire for his trouble. Spitting out a
mouthful of grass, his eyes scanned the pain racked features of Spike and
Xander was suddenly struck with the inherent 'wrongness' of it all.

{{This is unfair. We're the good guys. Okay, yeah, Spike was only one by
default but geez. You cops should be *thanking* not arresting us.}} 

Going on his instincts had kept Xander alive so far this night. After a
steadying breath he swiftly thrust his right elbow back and felt a
satisfying crunch as it struck bone. 

One good thing about getting your arse kicked on a regular basis was the by
product that struggling to your feet as quickly as possible became a habit.
He muttered a muted, insincere apology to the cop holding a bloody, broken
nose, then flattened him.

Pain bloomed across his knuckles. {{Ouch! Shit that hurt}}.

Seeing that his partner was in trouble, the other policeman brought his gun
round but was disadvantaged by the fact that he was still sitting on top of
the struggling Spike. 

Xander lashed out with his foot, connecting with a jaw, hopping up and down
holding his abused toes as the mans eyes rolled up and he sprawled over. 

Despite the incident with the demons, Xander was shocked by his own
violence {{I just took out the *police*}}. And for some unfathomable
reason, his brain was desperately trying to figure out if he had any unpaid
parking tickets.

An accented voice piped up cheerfully," Guess the Vikings has stuck around,
'eh pet?"

With his last meal still curdling in his stomach, Xander grinned weakly at
the vampire and said "We're still bonding, but I'm getting to like the
guy."

Spike threw back his head, roaring with laughter.


********

God dammit, Spike thought. Where the hell has *this* Xander Harris been for
the last couple of years?

{{Or maybe he's always been here and no-one ever noticed?}}

Opening his mouth to make another pithy comment, Spike lost his enjoyment
to the discordant noise of sirens irritating sensitive ears.

Punching a hole in the side of the police cruiser with as much venom as he
could muster didn't help matters at all. He swore, got to his feet and
addressed a nervous Xander. "When this chip comes out? Remind me to pay a
visit to the local precinct will you, pet? I owe these bastards, *big*
time." 

Two police cruisers screamed round opposite corners of the street. Spike
took that in with a narrowed glance, grabbed Xander's arm and yelled,
"RUN."


**********

Deep within the glades of Wilkins Park being hunted by the local police, a
vampire pulling you along in one hand, and your trusty battle axe gripped
tightly in the other. Isn't exactly how Xander thought this night would
end. 

His mental ruminations petered out as he recognised a land mark or two. {{I
know this place}}. 

Golden orbs glared at him eerily in the darkness. Spike hissed, "What the
fuck is it now?" 

Recognition finally dawned. With a "Follow me," he grinned wildly and took
off into some bushes. The vampire trailed behind, swearing.

Xander explained as they went. "Wills and I used to come here all the time.
It as a special place all the local kids knew about, but a couple of years
ago someone got hurt and they pulled down the ladder."

Stopping underneath a huge old oak tree, he turned triumphantly to Spike,
pointed upwards and asked. "Can you climb?" In the pitch black darkness
Xander couldn't see the treehouse, but he knew the vampire would.

After one calculating look, Spike didn't waste anytime. Xander uttered an
"Ooof" when he was flung over a shoulder before scrunching terrified eyes
shut during the climbed upwards. In a matter of seconds they were both
safely ensconced within the treehouse confines.

Which would have been just dandy, except here he was, face down on the
floor, with a Spike lying on top showing absolutely no inclination to move.

"Get off," he gruffly ordered.

"Can't, pet," Spike replied lazily, the laughter in his voice was easy to
discern.

Xander closed his eyes and groaned. "Why the hell not?"

"Well," came the slow reply. "It's not really that I *can't*." 

Xander held his breath as Spike shifted about on top of him.

Once Spike was settled, the vampire continued by saying, "Maybe, I just
don't want to. After all, I'm gettin' on in years, luv. And all this
runnin' about tonight has fair tuckered me out. Besides, I'm comfy," the
vampire concluded casually, as if Xander had just asked him to move his
feet off the sofa.

Silence reined as Xander tried ineffectively to shift the vampire. It took
some time for the futility of the gesture to sink in, in the end all he had
to show for it were some splinters and a cramp. {{Vampires give a whole new
meaning to 'dead weight'}}, came the morose thought. {{And what was..?}}

"Spike?"

"Yes, pet?"

"That had better be a tree branch I'm feeling right now," Xander muttered
darkly. 

Breath hitched in his throat as low, rich laughter seemed to bounce off the
treehouse walls.
************
Part Five

An esctatic Spike was trying to discern if this could have worked out any
better than if he'd actually planned it. {{'ang on a mo', I did plan this!
Sort of.}}

Alone with Xander, and there was no way in hell the boys 'skirt brigade'
could intervene. {{Those flamin' women of 'is are worse than a friggin'
cross}}, the vampire groused silently.

Turning his attention to the silently hyperventilating mortal beneath him,
the vampire smiled, then lay like a cat along Xander's back. Spike's lips
sought out the curve of Xander's neck, ignoring the squeak of fear uttered
by his prey, and left behind a soft caress of delicate kisses until they
reached an ear.

He traced the delicate curves with his tongue and scolded soothingly.
"Relax, you stupid git. I still have the chip. I can't hurt you, I can't
rape you. Can't even fucking *pinch* you without my brain getting fried.
Why are you so squeamish all of a sudden?"

"Well, gee Spike. Please excuse my girlie screams," a sarcastic voice
uttered into the floorboards. "Its not every day a male *vampire* lies on
top of me with a hard on."

Xander's voice took on his best 'we're all buds together tone'. "What d'ya
say we go down to Willy's place and you can try your luck there? I'll even
spring for the first bottle of blood so you can impress her, or him - quite
frankly at this moment, I'll even settle for an it."

Spike frowned. The whelp had such an expressive face and he wasn't seeing
any of it. "I say," he began, neatly flipping Xander over then settled
himself between the boys legs. Wide brown eyes stared up at him and Spike's
mouth twitched as full lips suddenly formed an 'Oh' of surprise as their
lengths met through denim. {{Much better.}}

"I say that at the moment, luv. I'm enjoying meself right here." He leaned
down, ignoring Xander's failed attempts to disappear through the
floorboards, then whispered silkily. "And you know what, pet? I think that
if you really wanted to, you could enjoy yourself as well."

The sound of tramping and cursing from their pursuers below caught Xander
with his mouth open, about to begin another plea. Spike was a blur of
motion and sealed Xander's lips shut with his own. 


*************


Cool, was Xander's first thought. Spike's lips weren't cold, just cool.
{{Not that it matters 'cause I'm kinda frozen here at the moment.}}

He braced himself for some sort of oral assault, none came, and managed to
squeeze his mouth shut. His ears could hear the noise from the police
searching for them, but all Xander could concentrate on was Spike. 

How he wasn't really all that uncomfortable. How Spike's lips were soft but
the rest of him...wasn't. Blue eyes inches from his own, staring intently,
looking for what exactly Xander wasn't certain.

Then his bottom lip was gently sucked and a tongue moved slowly back and
forth across it. Xander's traitorous mouth opened and this time the tongue
moved inside, then out. No rush, no pressure, just a taste, a tease, it
wasn't even really a kiss Xander told himself.

A mouth isn't all that big, you can't hide your tongue forever. {{So our
tongue's touched, no biggie.}} But the tease continued, a touch, for a
split second no more, again and again.

Spike's tongue was velvety soft and {{ Goddammit! Where the hell did it go?
Ah, there it is}}. After a while this whole tease thing began to give him
the shits, it wasn't enough. Spike was having a taste of him, it seemed
only fair he have a taste of Spike.

So when their tongue's met and duelled for the first time that wasn't a
groan coming from him, no sir. Xander Harris did not kiss vampires and
groan. Xander Harris didn't groan because it felt good. Xander Harris
didn't tilt his head for better access and Xander Harris definitely did
*not* hook his leg around one of Spike's to bring their bodies closer
together.

**********

As a master vampire Spike was used to being in charge, but as a human male,
so was Xander. Their kiss soon turned into a battle and it was pleasantly
surprising how aggressive the boy was. 

Now Spike found himself facing another battle. God, the smell of blood and
feel of a live mortal against him was sooo good. He wanted to fuck him and
drain him, he could practically taste the rich red flow in his mouth. 

One slight twitch from the chip was all Spike needed to convince himself
that he'd just have to settle with fucking, for now. {{Speakin' of which}}.
Utilising his lips and tongue, Spike cleaned the splatters of blood from
Xander's face, while his hips set a slow circular rythm. A low growl
rumbled forth as he felt the boys response.

{{Time to up the stake a little bit, pet}}. 

Licks and nibbles became light kisses as he said, "You're so used to almost
dieing that you've forgotten how to live. But you remembered tonight didn't
you, luv? And it felt good to be alive, just like it feels good now. Don't
think, pet. Just feel," then tipped back his head in delight as warm hands
snuck underneath his shirt, obeying his command.

************


Just feel, Spike had said, and suddenly Xander couldn't do anything else
but. He wanted to feel Spike against him, feel Spike all over him.

Mouths and hands continued to explore. Xander barely registered the feel of
the night air against bare skin when Spike removed his t-shirt. He heard
the vampire mutter an oath, then watched through lowered lids as Spike
impatiently divested himself of the vest and shirt.

A breathy moan was all Xander was capable of as their upper bodies touched.
{{Yessss, feels good. Different, but sooo good.}}

While his fingers kneaded taunt muscles along Spike's back, his tongue and
mouth explored the vampires chest. Felt the thrill surge straight to his
groin as he found a nipple and tugged it into hardness. 

Spike's siblant hiss of pleasure accompanied by cool hands burying
themselves in Xander's hair, tugging him even closer. Long fingers lay a
trail of sensation along his back and every part of Spike's skin where it
touched his own was like cold fire, it burned, it marked and he wanted to
crawl inside.

To not lose contact with that cold fire became Xander's only objective, he
needed more.

His jeans were so tight that he needed out of them, needed out of them
*now.

Hadn't even realised he'd uttered the request out loud until a throaty
chuckle trickled down his spine and Spike pushed him back down on the
floor. {{Oh, we'd been sitting up?}}

********


{{Dear God, I don't believe it! The little demon chit was right!!!}}

The vampire had never expected reality to win over fantasy, but the boy was
responsive, aggressive and endearingly demanding. He flicked a tongue out
at Xander's nipple, teasing the nub into hardness and was rewarded with a
gasp.

Spike was astride Xander's legs, hands caressing the boys chest. Unable to
resist, he used his thumbs to tease hardened nubs, then gently raked his
fingernails over Xander's chest. The swift intake of breath and whispered
plea for more convinced the vampire that further action was required.

Gazing at the flushed face and writhing body underneath him, Spike lost
control. Features rippled as he changed into 'game face' and ripped the
boys jeans off. All he received was a sigh of relief from Xander as
straining flesh was released from its denim prison.

Spike's jeans swiftly joined Xander's, now flung into some distant corner
of the treehouse. Twin moans echoed in the vampires ears as their naked
bodies wound around one another, rubbing, skin against skin.

{{Too much excitement for *you* tonight, my pet}}. It was obvious Xander
wasn't going to last, and neither was Spike. It had been way too long since
he'd had a body this hot, this delicious.

Xander uttered an "Oh, God," when Spike reached out his hand and brought
their cocks together. They were both gyrating against each other madly now,
seeking to increase the pace, seeking more flesh to caress.

Latching onto a deep gash left by the demons on Xander's collarbone, Spike
sucked hungrily as the blood welled out of the re-opened wound. 

A muted cry from Xander and Spike felt warm cum spray between their bodies.
Eager for his own release he used it to slide all over the body underneath
him, and with Xander's blood trickling warmly down his throat, Spike soon
added his own cool seed to the mix.


***********

Xander lay staring at the gap in the roof of the treehouse, gasping for
breath. The smell of sex, blood and sweat so strong even he could smell
it.

{{What the fuck have I done?}}

He twitched as he felt a cool touch play along his stomach, Spike was
swirling his finger's in the sticky aftermath of their..their..{{Can't even
think it. Don't hafta think it if I don't want to}}, came the babbling
within his head.

And that soft purring noise? The one that sent little trickles down his
back and tied his innards into knots? Not having any effect at all. Nope,
not at all.

Xander closed his eyes and groaned, the back of his head hit the
floorboards with a thump. He lay there, covered in more bodily fluids than
he'd ever been in his whole life and thought.
{{Sweet Jesus. I am in shit so deep I'm gonna need a fucking crane to get
me out of this one.}}
*********
Part Six

The fledgling couldn't believe her luck as the mad man approached. As he
was a mortal, she knew he was nuts. 'Cause only a lunatic would stalk down
the middle of a road in pre-dawn Sunnydale, their hair and clothes matted
with blood.

Hunger gnawed in her belly as the figure drew closer, and a correction was
made, boy not man. Soon the fools words became clear. It amused her no end
that each sentence was punctuated by a wildly gesticulating arm-or two.

"....'ing *idiot*!!! Do the words 'suicide by dick' mean nothing? Of course
not!"

There was a moments silence, before the raving started up once more.

"Find the *Viking*, he says. Just *feel*, he says. What he *really* meant
was, 'totally ruin your life Xander, so I can piss myself laughing'.
*That's* what he meant. An ex-vengeance demon on one side of the bed and
one soulless Master vampire on the other. Oh no, let's not complicate our
existence any further shall we Harris? 'Cause we wouldn't want to get bored
now, would we?" 

{{Vampire?}} The fledgling sniffed, eyebrows rose in shock accompanied by a
smirk. {{Well, well. Someone's been a naughty little mortal haven't they?}}

The figure hesitated briefly upon her approach, dark eyes narrowed briefly
in recognition but he kept on coming, and talking.

"Get the fuck out of my way 'fang girl'," he growled. "I'm in the middle of
a major 'wiggins' attack here, and I don't need your shit."

She laughed, moving in swiftly for the kill...

WHACK.

....and died forever.

Without breaking step, Xander tucked the axe back under his jacket. He
didn't even bother to watch the dust settle, just continued towards his
home. 

Holding a non-existent telephone up to an ear, he muttered. "Hey, Calvin?
Got a new cologne for you, buddy. I call it, 'Vampire come hither'. Pitch
it towards the suicidally inclined and the 'I wanna be young forever'
brigade, I guarantee we'll make a fortune."

"And by the way, Calvin?" Xander's tone slid from conversational into
borderline hysteria. "Did I forget to mention I just did the slippery with
a dead guy? That it was the hottest thing *ever*? And, I MUST BE OUT OF MY
FUCKING MIND!!!!"


********************

Hissing in pain as he sluiced dried blood and cum of his body, Xander 
stood under the shower with the water temperature slightly above that of
boiling peel your skin off hot. Every part of him ached.

Head tipped back in exhausted bliss, he let the water cascade over him. 
Kept his eyes closed, 'cause the color of the water disappearing down the
drain was freaking him out big time.

Didn't want to know how much of it was from the demon's, and how much was
his-but he could hazard a guess. He was also rapidly heading for another
major wiggins.

"Want a hand scrubbing your back, pet?"

And FUCK, the 'wiggins' had decided to take on corporeal form.

"Spike!" Xander winced at the high quotient girlie sound in his own voice. 
Projecting an image of false bravado is difficult when your back is to the
wall and the only thing covering your private danglies is a clenched fist
holding a small sponge.

For the first time, Xander noticed how Spike could *look* at you. The
vampires thin face was immobile, but his eyes? {{Oh man, those eyes just
look right at you. Right *into* you.}}

The next thought came unbidden. {{I wonder what he sees?}}. As unnerving
as it was to be the object of that icy blue stare, Xander couldn't prevent
his own orbs from gathering information.

His mouth opened to make some sort of scathing remark, only to find that
sound was impossible. Spike, who never broke eye contact, slowly shed his
clothes.

Steam ebbed and flowed about the tiny room, and within it stood Spike. 
Xander gulped. It had been so dark in the treehouse, and quite frankly his
mind had been occupied on other things. To see the blond vampire standing
naked before him was...an experience.

Alabaster skin, so pale. Blue veins easily visible, the slight frame unable
to hide the inherent power that came with being a Master vampire. Yet
somehow, Spike still seemed to be almost...ethereal, beautiful.

Xander felt his body react immediately. A hot coil of lust burnt through
him. He cursed it, he savoured it, knew this had to be the craziest
attraction he'd ever felt in his whole life. 

Knew they had barely scratched the surface of what they could do to, and
with, each other. That knowledge called up something dark within him, the
need to posses and be possessed, by a creature that could not, would not be
owned.

And when Spike walked into the shower? When the water trailed over that
body and the vampire sighed in sensual delight? Xander knew he was a goner.


The Viking came out to play once more in this infant new day. Xander
discovered that his closet Scandinavian was a simple man with simple needs.
{{Want, take, NOW.}}

The sponge hit the floor with soft splat, and he stepped forward.

***********


It was a chance Spike knew he had to take. The frenzied slap and tickle
encounter with Xander in the treehouse had been briefly relieving, but not
wholly satisfying.

{{If I give 'im time to think I'm dust}}.

One glance at the lithe body before him and Spike knew he'd made the right
decision. Deep cuts, gouges and the beginning of bruises that would shame
a rainbow with their lovely shades did little to hide the perfection of
Xander's physique.

Carefully feigned indifference won. Xander's increased respiration coupled
with the heavy scent of arousal and Spike knew it was only a matter of
time.

{{C'mon, Xan pet. Make the move}}

Spike did not want or desire the babbling fool. He was after bigger game,
that dark haired stranger who had wielded the axe with brutal efficiency.
He wanted the Viking, and by Christ, he was going to get him. If it meant
temporarily giving up control so be it, the reward would be worth it.

A warm hand threaded its fingers through his hair, gripped and wrenched his
head back. Spike found himself gazing into eyes that contained almost
nothing but lust. 

He smiled coyly, "'Allo my lovely, fancy meeting you 'ere."

Then his lips were crushed under the ferocious assault of Xander's 
bruising kiss. 

There was nothing shy, or even remotely hesitant about *this* mortals
touch. Hand's skimmed over his body, gripping, pinching. The vampire
growled low in his throat with pleasure.

The kiss was deep, brutal, as if Xander were trying to consume him from the
inside out, and Spike loved it. Their tongues played, tangled, fought,
separated then dived back in for another round. 

One shove from Xander, and Spike was up against the wall, sandwiched
between tiles and hot, sizzling flesh. 

Xander ripped his lips away, buried his mouth in the crook of the vampires
neck and gasped hoarsely. "Want all of you, Spike. Outside, inside and the
parts I don't know about. All of you. NOW."

Spike wrapped his arms around his new lover, brought him even closer then
rimmed Xander's ear with his tongue, whispering seductively. "You can have
me, luv. But you'll have to take it, if you can." 

Xander drove against him, grinding their cocks against one another, growled
vehemently. "I can take you, blondie. Here, there, anywhere I want. Any
*how* I want." 

Xander's eyes were hard, his breathing ragged as he ordered. "Turn around
and face the wall, Spike. 'Cause I'm gonna fuck you now, gonna fuck you
until you scream." 

***********

Xander was in a haze of desire and raw power. The need to relieve the ache
in his loins an overwhelming force. There was nothing gentle in this
encounter, just the urge to bury himself in Spike.

A shampoo bottle supplied the meagre lubricant, Xander amazed himself that
he'd even bothered. He quickly coated his painful erection before grinding
it into the cleft of Spike's ass.

Xander wrapped his arms around a smooth chest, and moaned. {{God, he's so
smooth, so hard}}.

"Can you feel me, Spike?" he asked. Knowing the question was redundant,
because there was already an ass pushing back. He kicked Spike's legs
further apart, the vampires body was singing with unrelieved tension.

Using his hand to guide the crown of his cock to Spike's entrance, Xander
found the tight ring. The shampoo on his dick was the only help Spike was
going to get, and Xander drove his hips forward in one hard thrust.

Spike arched his back and cried out.

Muscles automatically clenched, as if seeking to bar any further entry.
Xander would have none of it. Half buried within the vampire, he wrenched
Spike's head round and plunged his tongue inside a mouth he was beginning
to adore.

Avoiding the fangs was getting to be a problem. So Xander had to settle for
little kisses and words. "Let me in, Spike. Let me fuck you. You want me
there, I want to be there. Let me in." Xander started to rock his hips in
time with his plea.

"Give me a mo', pet," came the strangled reply. "Its been a while."

Xander decided that whoever said patience was a virtue had never had their
cock half-way buried up someone's ass. "No, Spike. Not a moment, *now*."

The vampire seemed to shudder, then he was pliant within Xander's arms.
Feeling the muscle's relax around him, Xander rewarded the vampire with
another deep throated kiss, and buried his swollen cock as deep as he
could.

*********

They both stayed momentarily frozen, savouring the moment. But desire soon
shattered any semblance of control. Spike discovered that his ass had
become an explorer, it seemed to want to seek out and feel every crease and
fold on Xander's dick.

His first thrust back was slight, but Xander soon got the idea. Raging fire
plunged in and out, Spike rocked back harder and harder. Seeking to drive
the sensation as deeply within him as he could.

When Xander's hand snuck round and Spike felt it begin to pump his own
weeping member, his head drop back against the mortals chest. His whole
existence centred on the blinding need of gratification.

The first scream came when Xander changed his angle, and as the head of his
cock hit Spike's prostrate the vampire let loose with some demands of his
own. "Yesss, again. You're not gonna hurt me you fuckin' wimp. *Again*!"

In, out, push, thrust. Spike's whole world coalesced into that and nothing
more. Accompanying wave after wave of pleasure was the tension, coiling
within him, becoming tighter and tighter.

Blazing heat plunging into him, a glove of fire wrapped around his cock.
Spike was a pyre of flames.

Once more, Xander came first, crying out the vampires name as warm essence
flooded his lovers ass, yet his cock barely softened. Spike was almost
there, so close to perfection it was almost agony, he needed, he needed...

Xander's fingernails suddenly raked viscously down his chest, rivulets of
blood marked their passing. {{Yess}}, and as Spike teetered on the edge of
oblivion, blunt teeth tore into his shoulder.

Throwing back his head, the vampire howled as release ripped him to pieces
and his cum splattered over the tiles. Spike felt sphincter muscles
convulse as the orgasm rolled over him, he was rewarded with Xander coming
once more. 

Spent, Spike sunk to the floor of the shower dragging the mortal with him.
They half sat, half lay there, wrapped within each other arms, allowing the
rapidly cooling spray to wash them clean.

With shaking fingers, Spike tilted Xander's head, slow langourous kisses
that only come after mind blowing sex were exchanged. Spike gazed at
flushed features, the swollen lips that still begged to be plundered and
said his vow out loud.

"I'm going to have you, pet. I'm going to stain you with every part of me
so that no amount of washing will make you clean," satisfaction welled
within him at the startled look from Xander.

"Did you really think it would end here, luv?" the vampire growled. Spike
felt his lips twist into a cruel smile. "Did you think you could walk away
from this after one night? You wouldn't go even if I let you." 

Xander opened his lips to protest, Spike ignored him and continued, "You
can deny it all you want for the moment, Xan pet. But you will crave me as
much as I crave you. Vikings lived and died seeking this, what we have, and
you are *my* Viking. You can put him away so the others don't see, but I
*know* he's in there. And next time he wants to play, I'll be waiting." 

To emphasise the fact, Spike pulled the boy in closer. Xander's body was
screaming with tension, it didn't matter. Soon enough the Hellmouth would
hear the battle cry of the Viking, Spike looked forward to that cry being
closely followed by a scream of different kind.

It was inevitable. 
***********
Part Seven

Hands buried so deep in pockets his fingernails were full of lint. His head
moving slowly from side to side in a long practised habit of observation
and search. Xander made his way to another Scooby Gang meeting, deep in
thought. 

After two weeks of solid hidden research, he'd finally accepted the fact
that there was no obscure Norse hex or demon he could lay blame to this
current predicament of his. The battle with the demons, the police and
finally the 'incident' with Spike; all Xander's actions and *reactions*,
had come from within. And it scared the living shit out of him.

Slayer, human, ex-demon, vampire. Only on a Hellmouth could a human have
picked up the assortment of bed partners such as he. Xander rolled his
eyes, if anyone ever accused him of being short of a deck he could name his
cards and dare them to beat it. Personally, he doubted anyone could.

{{I wonder if that makes me the Joker?}}, he mused silently.

Surprisingly, there was no joy or pride in the picture that thought
conjured up. He'd used that facade for so long it had become a habit.

On reflection, {{Geez, this is getting scary. I'm 'reflecting'!!}}, it was
a bad habit. He couldn't really blame others if they treated him as a joke
if that was all he allowed them to see.

The bruises had almost faded, the scars well on the way to healing, but he
was *still* dealing with the fallout from that night two weeks ago. After
seeing Buffy at breakfast that next morning, two witches had put two and
two together, and promptly hightailed it over to Xander's place. 

One look at the damage inflicted upon his body was enough for Willow to
freak out big time. Four hours in the emergency waiting room and forty
stitches later, he'd then had the dubious pleasure of suffering through
Buffy and Giles giving him the 'you are not a Slayer' speech.

Xander brought his hand up, absently tracing the scar he now sported on his
right temple. It was about three inches long and disappeared into his
hairline, not as impressive as one or two others he'd picked up that night,
but it was the most visible. When the stitches had fallen out he'd found
himself parked in front of the mirror one morning, staring at his own
reflection.

It seemed such a small thing, yet somehow it...wasn't. After what had
happened Xander felt there should be more, more of *what* he didn't know,
just more.

The hyena was a hunter who would have, if given the opportunity, kill
without mercy or thought. The soldier, although providing some useful
skills, was too much a stickler for rules, regulations and obediance for
Xander to ever be totally comfortable with the persona. 

All that was left of them were memories.

But this...this Viking as Spike had called it/him, this Viking fought for
what he believed in, Xander had no problem with that. The Viking knew what
he wanted and grabbed it with both hands. He winced as his brain was
assaulted by images of a certain vampire, water and.. {{Shit, these jeans
must have shrunk in the wash}}. 

Perhaps the most attractive facet of the Viking was the way he engendered
respect, a respect that had been sorely lacking in certain aspects of his
life at the moment. Xander hadn't been so far gone that he'd failed to
notice Spike's reaction, how the vampire had treated him like a 'grown up'
for the first time. 

"Of course, it could have been the fact that blondie just wanted a quick
roll in the body parts", he scoffed lightly.

All in all, Xander came to the conclusion he was uncomfortably comfortable
with this visitor from Scandinavia. He didn't know whether that qualified
him for a trip to the local loony bin or a freaky hat with horns.

Shuddering, he knew for certain that if Anya ever found out about Spike,
Xander Harris could be sporting a pair of real horns in the very near
future.

His sleep had been haunted with two very different but similar nightmares.
One: another visit to the hospital, his body covered in green pustules and
carrying what was left of his dick in his hand or Two: Spike turning up at
a meeting to announce he and 'Xan-pet' were now a couple; and they
*weren't* came the vehement thought.{{Two sticky encounters in one night
does not make us a *anything*!!}}

Either way, he was screwed. {{And ya gotta admire how I can still think of
sex even with a horrible death looming on the horizon}}.

Glancing at his watch, his face twisted in horror. "Shit, I'm gonna be late
*again*!! G-man is going to be pissed." He quickened his pace, mind now
frantically occupied with trying to think of a plausible excuse for his
tardiness.

Three steps through the door he halted, a flicker of unease swept through
him. All conversation stopped abruptly, heads turned in his direction.
Willow had that awful 'Oh my goodness this is bad' look, and was clinging
to Tara like a vine. Buffy paced back and forth, displaced energy
practically crackling the air around her. Riley stood off to the side,
eyeing his lover with equal measures of concern and awe.

"Xander," Giles seemed relieved to see him. {{Always a *bad* sign}}} "I'm
afraid I have some bad news," the Englishman said.

"Hey Giles," Xander replied nervously. "Don't tell me, another end of the
world thingie right? Relax, the X-man is here. Ready willing and able to
run with the best of them."

"Xander *listen*," Willow blurted out. "It's about Anya." 

A cold lump formed in his stomach. Xander immediately turned to Giles, all
humour driven from him. "What is it? What's happened? Is she hurt?"

Giles stepped forward, trying to project an air of calmness he was
obviously far from feeling. "What do you know about Anya's past?"

Xander hesitated for a moment then rapidly recited what he knew. "Anya, my
girlfriend. Vengeance demon for about a thousand years or so. Left an
untold number of cheating men horribly dead or wishing they were. I can
fill a book with the stories of how she did what to whom. Why?"

"Did she ever mention another demon called Glesuive? Perhaps she might
have.."

"No," Xander made no apology for cutting the Englishman off. Instead he
demanded harshly, "You still haven't answered my question Giles. Why?"

"He took her," Buffy stalked over to join the conversation. "She met up
with Willow and Tara for some spell researching. He busted into Tara's room
and just did the snatch and grab thing."

"There was nothing we could do, Xander." Willow apologised, her face racked
by guilt.

Xander recognised the emotion easily, he was overloaded with it right now
as well. Closing the distance between them, he enveloped the red haired
witch in a hug.

"It's okay Wills," he soothed. " I know you would have done the best you
could, at least neither you or Tara got hurt."

Then another voice cut through the room. A voice Xander had not heard in
over two weeks.

"This is lovely. The bonding and all, I mean," came the sarcastic comment.
" Very touching, in a 'want to make me throw up' sort of way. But do you
think we could actually start doing something or are you waiting for a
bleedin' sign?"

Breaking contact with Willow, Xander straightened, glaring at the vampire.
"Spike," he growled. "What are *you* doing here?"

Dark eyebrows rose innocently. "Me, pet? I was just passing to collect some
money the Watcher owes me. But I might stick around," the vampire wondered
out of the kitchen and casually lit up a cigarette.

"I think," the blonde continued to say, and Xander's eyes narrowed at the
way Spike had effectively blocked off Xander's contact with the rest of the
occupants in the room. " I think this is the moment I've been waiting for,"
thin lips smirked knowingly. 

Xander froze, fists clenching and unclenching with his rage.{{You bastard.
You fucking bastard}}, he practically screamed.

How Spike ended up against the wall with Xander's hand around his throat
was irrelevant. Xander merely noted it and moved on.

Perhaps later, Xander mused, he would worry what the others thought or
thought they saw. Nose to nose, bodies pressed up against each other, every
nuance screamed that he and Spike had a degree of intimacy that should have
been beyond them. 

But no one in the room could fail to hear the deadly menace in Xander's
voice as he hissed a carefully enunciated threat into the vampires ear. "If
I find out you had anything to do with this, you will *beg* for Buffy to
stake you. I will skin you alive and leave your carcass out to greet the
sun."

Cold brown eyes clashed with icy blue. Xander's rage grew at the
recognition of desire that spat and snaked between them both like a loose
power cable.

His mind was screaming; wrong, wrong, wrong. His body was saying this is
what you *want*, this is what you *need*.

Disgusted, he practically flung the vampire away. Anya was in danger, he
had to act, the Viking demanded it.

Yet inexplicably, as he stood by the door ready to leave, Xander felt
himself turn and gaze across the room. 

"You wanna play tonight, Spike?" he snarled, then laughed at the eagerness
in which the vampire stepped forward. 

Xander gestured dramatically to the darkness beyond and issued his
invitation with a hard smile. "Then c'mon, blondie. Let's play."

Spike moved like someone had just announce free blood, and the door slammed
behind them.

Stunned silence pretty much marked their exit. Buffy looked at Giles,
Willow looked at Giles, and Giles was staring at his door in a mixture of
dismay and utter confusion.

Riley cleared his throat, a bewildered expression on his face and asked
rather hesitantly. "Who the *hell* was that?"

***********
Part Eight

Heartbroken? Or relieved? 

Xander rolled the options around in his head and finally settled on ...{{Heartbroken relief?}}

Any rescue is a bust when the object of your valiant crusade is found locking lips with the kidnapper. 

"You alright, pet?"

"She said she sorry," he blurted out.

Spike's lips curled in disgust, blue eyes clouded with memories, the vampire stared over Xander's shoulder into the night before saying coldly. "They always do. They always are. Doesn't stop it feeling like they just ripped your heart out and fried it up for breakfast though. Does it?"

{{Great moves on cheering a guy up, Spike!}}

"You know what we need to do, luv?" Spike said.

Xander sighed and stared at the vampire suspiciously. Succumbing to his own curiosity he asked. "I just know I'm gonna regret this, but what?"

Spike strolled over and said with complete authority. "We need to go on a raiding party. Work off some steam, break a spine or two."

"Raiding party?" Xander squeaked. Staring pointedly at the surrounding area, he kept his voice light and flippant. "Gee, Spike, I don't know. I seem to have left my longship at home tonight. And far be it from me to point out the obvious, but I don't see yours either. And don't you think that, like, you've sort of fixated on this Viking thing just a tad?"

A pale hand held up metal. The car keys 'tinked' as they touched. Xander's eyes were drawn to them, then to Spike. A wickedly grinning triumphant Spike.

"Modern Vikings need modern longships, Xanpet. You should know this," came the scolding reproof. A dark eyebrow arched elegantly. " Don't tell me you're not pissed. You've just had your guts ripped out by cheating demon girl..."

Xander laughed bitterly. "Kinda ironic me getting dumped by the ex-vengeance demon for scorned women. I'm gonna have to raid her address book to see if she left a contact number for her male counterpart."

"And in the meantime we can go 'ave some fun," Spike pressed.

{{NO! Bad, bad, bad idea. I need to touch base with the gang, explain why I went all weird on them. I need to...}}

Apparently, mouth and tongue had other ideas. The words came out before he could stop them. "What did you have in mind?" 

{{ And just *once*, I'd like a part of my body to do what it's told!!!}}

******************

"Spike?"

"Yes, pet."

"Did you know you have *mushrooms* growing on the floor of your car?"

Spike noticed the brunette peering down at the floor of the DeSoto, the young mortals face twisted into disgust and amazement. Xander also appeared to be making a herculian effort to keep his feet about four inches off the floor. 

He leaned over to check, {{Bloody hell! The whelp was right}}.

"Get that bag from over on the back seat will you?" the vampire instructed immediately. "I'm thinkin' they might be that lot Dru picked up in Mexico," Spike couldn't help but grin. "Bloody good stuff that. Drained six peasants in one night and the colors seep right into the back of your flammin' eyeballs."

Xander folded his arms and made a sincere effort to bury himself into the seat before replying stubbornly. "You have *got* to be kidding me. The only way I'm touching that stuff is if I have on a Hazmat suit. If the EPA ever saw the inside of your car they'd declare a state of emergency."

"Suit yourself," Spike kept his voice casual, then went in for the kill. "I'm just thinkin' of you, pet."

"Oh? Do tell." 

"Sarcasm in one so young is unbecoming, luv."

"Fuck off."

Spike hit the brakes. The car fishtailed along the road, skidding some fifteen to twenty feet. Just before his brain was engulfed in fire and he toppled across the front seat, Spike had the pleasure of seeing Xander propelled forward, thereby providing a vacant space for the vampire to land. {{Ta, pet}}.

The boys momentum came to an abrupt halt as his head cracked against the front window and his body hit the dashboard. {{Sort of like a moth, only from the inside out}}, Spike thought gleefully.

Epithets and metaphors erupted from the floor. The floor Xander had been heaping with scorn not so long ago, the floor on which the human was now struggling to arise from.

Still lying prone across the front seat Spike had the pleasure of meeting brown eyes glittering with anger. One hand shot out and he hauled the boy closer. He continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. "As *I* was saying. You might not want to knock the mushrooms. After what happened at the Watchers and our little party at Willie's, I'm thinkin' Slutty might be a bit pissed at you. But if you're stoned out of your mind? She'll think nothing of it."

"*I'm* not the one who started the fight at Willie's," Xander protested indignantly. "Nor am I the one who 'liberated' three bottles of JD, five cartons of cigarettes *and* a keg on beer."

As Xander concluded his denial, Spike was otherwise occupied. He allowed his gaze to roam slowly over the features in front of him, taking in the tousled hair, assorted bruises, etc. When his eyes fixed on Xander's pert full lips, they stayed there. {{I'm through wasting time, Xanpet. I've had fun in the dustup at Willie's, I've got me grog. Now all I need is...}}

The atmosphere began to change and morph into sexual tension, all in the blink of an eye. A sharp hiss from Xander indicated that Spike wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

Moving forward Spike captured the lips, tongue burrowing into that warm mouth. Tasting blood from a split lip, curtesy of the brawl earlier, Spike lapped it up. A moan from Xander.

Warm, wet mouth, the salty tang of blood, {{A tongue that's drivin' me insane}}. Spike was still lying on the front seat, Xander still crouched on the floor. {{Need to feel you, pet. Against me. On me.}}

Spike sat back up, wedged his back against the drivers door; and Xander came with him. His body slid between Spike's thighs, the vampire automatically wrapped his legs around Xander and they fitted together like they had never been apart.

As the kisses became more urgent, Xander looked up and around, deftly avoided Spike's attempt for another taste.

"What the bleedin' hell is the matter with you," he snarled.

"Car...road...middle of...need to move," Xander gasped.

When it dawned on him that Xander was not trying to put a stop to their activity, but was in fact ensuring they weren't interrupted, Spike beamed with approval. "Who's a clever little mortal then?" 

The car lurched to the side of the road, curtesy of Xander steering and Spike's hand on the accelerator.

With the boy back in his arms, Spike drawled playfully. "Now. Where were we?" 

Xander grinned. "I believe your hands were...." 

Spike cupped Xander's ass in his hands, bringing the mortals body hard against his own.

"....yeesss, there. And your mouth was right..."

Spike traced his tongue along the throbbing vein in Xander's neck. "Here, luv?"

A breathy "....mmmmmm," was apparently all Xander could manage.

Tracing a path of nibbles and licks, Spike found his way back to that glorious mouth. Hot, heavy kisses, hands roaming like lost explorers, in a black car with painted out windows- Spike inhaled the essence of sex and lust and a low growl rumbled forth.

Hips lifted without protest as Spike eased the boy out of his jeans. Hands full of warm flesh, tongue dancing in perfect time with another. {{Time to up the ante, sweet cheeks. And bloody hell, those cheeks were sweet, so soft, so warm, so fucking *real*. So MINE}}.

It may take weeks, but Xander's body had to get used to being invaded. Spike trailed one finger slowly down the cleft until it found the puckered entrance. Circling, touching, {{FUCK, lube! I'm a soddin' nonce}}.

Frantically searching hand, followed by a heartfelt sigh of relief. {{Eenie, meenie, miinie-pinky}}

He pulled out of another mind numbing kiss, Spike needed to watch Xander's expressive face. Any indication of pain from the mortal and this could soon rival an old encounter with dear old Da.

"What?" came the startled exclamation from Xander as he felt the slick coldness poised for entry.

"Sshhh, luv," Spike interspersed his calming words with butterfly kisses. "I need to feel you, pet. Your so warm, relax. Let me show you want you want, how good it was to have you in me." 

Indecision and fear battled with lust. Emotions moved like a video on fast forward across Xander's face. {{Only an idiot fights fair!}} Spike thrust his tongue back in Xander's mouth, another minute of kissing and the boy sighed gently as the finger probed again.

Rubbing, circling, Spike broke the kiss then timed it perfectly. In, slowly, and Xander didn't even twitch. One little pinky in for a few seconds and Spike knew this was going out of control. 'Cause now a part of him was inside, and the rest of him screamed to join in.

Surprised at how easy this was, Spike shrugged off that faint niggling thought in the back of his head lubed another finger and tensed.

Pinky forgotten, two larger fingers sought their goal-Xander spread his legs wide and opened up like a flower.

A well used flower.

With a groan of satisfaction the boy thrust back, seeking to deepen the contact....

....and Spike reeled in shock.

Someone had plucked this rose. {{Someone is going to *fucking* DIE!!!}}

**********

Xander was so intent of satisfaction of being even only slightly filled that it took him a few seconds to notice.

The roar of fury erupting from Spike. He opened startled eyes to see the vampire in full 'game face', sulphur colored eyes promising death.

His erection went down like a limp balloon. "Spike?"

Spike seemed to be fighting for control as he snarled. "When this is over, *pet*. You and I are going to have a talk."

Mystified at this rage, Xander froze, for him, the moment was gone. Spike had other plans.

Hard brutal kisses, fingers moving in time with Spike's questing tongue; Xander's body soon found the moment hadn't gone after all. Felt that familiar thrill of danger send his hormones, pheromones and any other 'mone he had on a little dance of joy.

Wonderful fullness, wonderful rhythm and yet it wasn't enough.

"More, Spike, please. Need more," he gasped as small shivers of pleasure seemed to spark within him.

Another finger joined the others, and it was tight but not totally uncomfortable, no more than what he was used to.

Rock hard cock rubbing deliciously against denim. {{Spike's still fully clothed?}} Gifted fingers soon hit their target and Xander had a brief vision of heaven. "Ohhhh, yessss."

Ground himself into Spike, thought it was probably just as well the vampire was fully clothed 'cause it gave Xander something to rip and tear.

Tragedy. Finger's removed, Spike gone.

"Nooooooo," wailing at the loss.

Looking at an aloof, silent Spike. A Spike who seemed to be doing some sort of x-ray thing with his eyes. Judging, weighing, {{What have I done wrong?}}

Xander watched the expression change, become resolved, underlying it still-was the rage.

Drivers seat suddenly punched back, an acre of space between Spike and the steering wheel. Belt buckle loosened, black jeans pushed down-Spike was fully clothed no more.

Long, thin cock, head glistening with pre-cum and Xander had to touch, had to reach out and *feel*. Watched as that aloof mask finally cracked, blonde head tipped back in pleasure, lovely, elegant white neck.

Blur of motion, strong hands that could break him like a twig swinging him so that he was in Spike lap. One leg crammed between the seat and the door, the other between the space separating the passenger and drivers seat.

Face to face, mouth to mouth, cock to cock. 

They could have been anywhere and Xander wouldn't have cared. Just needed that blessed fullness, in him.

Spike was panting heavily, it gave Xander some small thrill to know the vampire was as close to losing all control as he was.

"Tell me want you want, Xander? Do you want me in you, pet? came the raspy growl.

Overcome by shyness, all Xander could do was nod.

A hand tangled in his hair, jerking his head back. A face carved from marble with eyes of blue fire Xander's whole focus.

"Say the words, Xander. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

Stubborn pride raised an arm. "I won't beg, you bastard."

A twisted smile of respect followed by a chuckle. "That's my little Viking. Keep your pride if you want, but after this you are *mine*. Do you hear me? MINE."

Xander didn't even blink and snarled back. "Nobody owns me blondie. Not now, not ever."


********

Spike was way out of patience. {{We'll settle that little point later}} He handed Xander the lube and growled "Do it."

Warm hand slathered on the lube, thick, cold and fast. Spike couldn't believe how much he had to struggle for control. 

His hands grasped the boys waist, lifted him up so the head of his cock brushed against its Holy Grail. Wet the entrance with his pre-cum, the first mark of his ownership.

Xander rested his hands on Spike's shoulders, brown eyes wide with anticipation. His head bent to avoid the roof of the car, waiting.

The first sensation of pushing through that inner ring. So slowly that it almost killed him. Tight, heard Xander gasp above him. "Remember what you said in the shower,luv? Relax, relax and let me in."

A shudder from Xander, a nod of determination. Spike felt the boy breathe in deeply, once, twice. "I'm ready."

The passage of his entrance marked by warmth. Encased in this lovely living glove of life, Spike sank into Xander. Deeper and deeper, until he could go no more.

Spike held the quivering mortal in his arms and felt his rage dissipate. His anger no longer directed at the boy, this strange emotion to protect overwhelming all others.

"Alright?"

Xander's head resting now against Spike's shoulder nodded.

"Luv?"

"I'm okay. Just...just feels so strange."

Spike kissed Xander's temple. "Want it to feel good, pet?"

Xander hesitated before asking, "Like...like the fingers?"

Fangs gleamed as Spike laughed. "Makes the fingers look like nothin', little one. Do you want to go flying?"

"Yeah, Spike. Take me flying."

So Spike went back to kissing. They started off soft and slow, then deeper until the intensity nearly shook him. If he didn't move soon he was going to rip out Xander's throat through sheer frustration.

Then Xander wiggled.

"Jesus H Christ!!"

"That felt good," came Xander's slightly amazed comment.

"Are you trying to kill me,pet?"

Joyful sniggering from Xander. "If I knew this is all it took to kill you Spike, I would have tried it long ago."

"Cheeky little sod," he growled and was rewarded with kisses from brow to chin.

He captured Xander mouth, and lifted the boy up. Eased himself halfway out of the velvet glove, the slowly sank back in.

In. Out. Blessed warmth encased him, a living blanket writhed on top of him. 

When his cock hit Xander's prostrate for the first time, Spike heard the boy yell in surprised pleasure. But he was too caught up in the moment to register that this was at odds with his previous suspicions.

Harder, faster and Spike could feel the sweat trickling down Xander's body. He ran his tongue over the skin so he could taste, to imprint every part of this to memory. Salty tang reminding him of blood and hunger reared up within him. 

It fought with the need to mark and claim.

They rocked together and Spike marvelled at how attuned he was to mortal. Every breath, every gasp, heart pumping; sensation after sensation.

Steel blade shining in front of his eyes caused the vampire to freeze.

Brown eyes gazed at him with an unfathomable expression. Then Xander sliced the blade across his own upper arm and said ,"Drink."

Total surprise gave way to delight. Spike fastened his mouth to the bleeding wound and drank. 

And he forgot about the chip, forgot that this was just to ease away an ache he had discovered and he slammed into Xander with everything he had. To bury himself inside that warmth and mark it forever his territory.

Xander's cries became hoarse as he lost control. Spike's demon roared with triumph that he was the cause of it.

He felt the tiny quivers running through Xander's body became shudders as orgasm approached. 

Ripped his mouth away from the blood and said raggedly, " Come for me, pet. Feel me in you, all of you. Let me hear you scream." 

Words have a power all their own. Xander threw back his head, screaming as his muscles contracted around Spike's cock, his cum sprayed over the vampire.

Spike looked on in rapture. {{Blood and beauty. My perfection}}.

Fastened his mouth back onto Xander's cut arm and as the blood trickled down his throat was engulfed in his own tornado of sensual glory. Flooded Xander with his own cool seed, noted in a daze that the mortal shivered with pleasure.

Outside, the night of Sunnydale rolled on; and Spike had never been so in touch with it. Life, death, good and evil intertwined like he and Xander.

{{Fuck the mushrooms. I've found something better}}

As the rapid thump of his lovers heart slowed back to normal against his chest, Spike cradled his living treasure in the knowledge that his plans for a quick roll in the sack were down the toilet. 

Screwing the best friend of your mortal enemy is a fast track way to becoming dust. He'd told Xander that the boy would crave him, and although he'd said otherwise, Spike had never expected to feel the same.

Safety and contentment he had not experienced in ages were inside this car. When they opened the door they would step back into chaos and confusion.

{{What the bleedin' hell am I going to do?}}

He didn't know, and for the moment, he didn't bloody care.
******
Part Nine

"I hate this. I really, really hate this," Buffy snapped for about the fifth time.

"First, Xander goes all wiggy and attacks Spike. Okay, I can understand that, even approve. But to invite him out to *play* and leave us running after them all night picking up the pieces? Xander's gone nuts," she finished heatedly.

{{A Slayer who has no control over a situation is a very unhappy Slayer indeed}}, Riley thought morosely.

"No he hasn't," Willow protested. "He's just...just acting a little strange. Anya is still missing and I'm sure he has a perfectly good explanation for..for.."

"Busting Willie's place up? Twice?" Buffy prompted.

Riley sat on the couch watching the two women argue back and forth. So far they'd been at it for twenty minutes, if they kept it up he was pretty sure he'd have enough material to fill a few lessons in psyche class next year.

Giles had apparently reached the end of his patience. "Stop it." He turned to Buffy inquiring, "You say that Spike and Xander left here, and went straight to Willie's. He directed them to...."

"...after Xander almost broke Willie's neck!!" Buffy interjected.

A pointed stare from Giles.

"Shutting up now," Buffy mimicked zipping her mouth shut.

"Thank you," Giles managed to insert just the right amount of reproof. "Now, we can assume that they went after Anya. But it doesn't explain why they went back there...?" Giles turned to Riley. "How long do you estimate?"

Riley frowned. "About an hour and a half. We must have past them on the way somehow. By the time we arrived at the docks, the warehouse was deserted, no sign of a fight or struggle. So we swung by Willie's again on the way back to see if he had anything else to add. Spike and Xander had totally trashed the place, *again*."

"Spike started it the second time," Willow piped up. She struggled not to wilt under every ones gaze. "Well, he *did*. Spike wanted to watch something on the television and a demon objected. After that...," she just shrugged. 

Buffy voiced her own concerns. "They didn't have Anya, and when Willie asked about her, Xander almost bit his head off."

"Err, Buffy? I think Willie said Xander almost *cut* his head off." Riley corrected. "Giles? When did Xander start carrying round an axe? Oh, and Willie wants to know who's going to pay for all the stuff they stole."

The stealing seemed to bother Giles more than the fight or the axe. "Xander stole money?" The Watcher blinked in dismay as Riley handed over the list of damages and items stolen that Willie had thrust into his hand as they had left.

"Oh, dear. This is quite a tidy sum."

"Giles!!" Buffy exclaimed. "Can we concentrate on Anya kidnapped, Xander missing, Spike's *with* him. The whole running amok thing?"

The Englishman had the grace to look a little chagrined. "Yes, of course."

As per usual in a time of crisis, the sound of a telephone ringing can be exceptionally loud.

Riley chalked up a mental note never to get in Buffy or Willow's path during the Xmas sales as he watched them storm towards the phone. He marvelled at the fortitude of Giles who picked up the receiver in a snatch and grab move that would have made any thief proud. Giles then pointedly turned his back to avoid the killer stares from a certain red haired witch and the Slayer. {{Brave man!}}

"Xander? Thank God, are you alright?"

As they listened to the one sided conversation the rest of the occupants in the room became tense. It didn't sound good, especially when Giles' face fell and he said, "Oh, Xander. I'm so sorry. Is there anything we can do?"

Willow appeared devastated and Buffy began to search the room for her weapons.

Giles hung up the phone, then with some embarrassement on Xander's behalf, explained the situation. Willow's face became eerily calm. 

"I'm thinking a toad," she said eventually. "A big, warty, ugly, slimy toad."

"I'm in," Buffy immediately confirmed. The Slayer tapped her foot for a moment, glanced slyly at Willow and asked. "Do you think you could make her, like..poisonous or something? A danger to the good citizens of Sunnydale so I can do some serious slayage?"

Not for the first time, Riley stared at Giles in sympathy. {{And if I ever break up with Buffy? Volunteer for a hazardous mission overseas and don't stop until I see the jungle}}.

**********

Neutral ground, Spike had said. 

{{HA!!}}

Surveying the underground rooms branded with Spike's vampire punk taste and leftover human 'vampire wanna be' cool, made Xander appreciate Martha Stewart. He snorted softly in disgust.

Spike was fussing as to where to put *their* 'booty', as he so eloquently put it. Xander pointed out as forcefully as he could, that (a) there was nothing he wanted, (b) *he* hadn't stolen anything and (c) by the way, had Spike forgotten that they were perhaps still on Sunnydales police shit list? And if they kept this up might very well garnish a number one spot? 

The vampire ignored him, tapped open the keg and poured Xander a beer. He thrust the glass into Xander's hand and said with a leer. "American beer tastes like piss. I sure as hell didn't get it for me. Drink up luv, it'll put hairs on your chest." 

"I never noticed you complaining," Xander shot back.

Spike shrugged casually, "I spent a century with Angelus, pet. Guess I just got used to it." Xander was still gaping in shock as Spike grabbed a bottle of JD, and in a move that would have scored at least a nine with the diving committee, launched himself onto the bed. 

With glass in hand Xander began to wander about, anything to avoid glancing in the direction of the bed.

A bed with black silk sheets upon which lay Spike. A shirtless Spike, who's pale ivory skin looked absolutely ...and he was sooo not going there.

Lazy, self-satisfied laughter caused him to pause.

"I'm glad one of us is having a good time," he snarled.

Unrepentant, Spike settled back amongst the pillows and said, "Watching you have a panic attack is almost as much fun as watchin' Peaches brood."

Xander glared at the vampire, tried hard to avoid thinking how much Spike looked like a decadent cat just waiting to be stroked; and failed.

Frustrated at his own lack of self-control, Xander sat down heavily on a couch. The contents of his glass were stupefyingly interesting all of a sudden.

God! Why did it always end this way with him? 

He had thought she loved him. {{Yeah, you thought you loved her too, until you slept with Spike.}}

Was he incapable of holding on to anyone? 

{{If this is growing up I want a refund. It sucks.}}

He winced at the terminology. Sucking, undead things, Spike. Xander lifted his eyes and found himself staring at the source of yet another problem.

The 'problem' was still lounging on the bed alternately smoking a cigarette and draining a bottle. Yet despite Spike's apparent indifference, Xander could see the vampire was tense.

{{Mr Confident is tense. That can't be a good sign. He's got what he wanted. Now he's probably trying to figure out a way to tell me to piss off without getting himself dusted}}

His mouth twisted at the irony of it all. Would Buffy just shrug and say "Cosmic justice" if she found out? Somehow he doubted it. And what was there to find out any way?

{{When I'm with Spike I feel like I'm *alive*. Well, duh!! Let's not take time to examine how stupid that sounds, shall we?}}

"Fair gives you the shits sometimes, doesn't it?" Spike's voice cut through Xander's mental gymnastics.

"What?"

Spike lay prone on the sheets staring at the ceiling, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying. "Being cast aside by the people you love. Treated like you're demented and can't help 'being the way you are'..."

"Shut up," Xander growled.

The barrage from Spike continued. " Sick and bleedin' tired of the looks of pity as you run from one demented fuck up to another. Fed up with trying to please those who made you, 'cause no matter what you do it will never be good enough."

A red haze of fury gripped Xander. He off the couch and screaming before he knew it. "SHUT UP. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

The beer glass shattered against the wall behind the bed, Spike didn't even flinch as shards of glass cut into him.

"Don't start playing your fucking mind games with me Spike." Xander stormed towards the bed. "Don't you bloody dare! You don't know what's going on inside my head, and if you do? Then stay the *hell* out of it."

Xander loomed over Spike's reclining form, fists clenched, his whole body shaking. The urge to pummel the vampire into a bloody pulp, defenceless or no, extremely enticing.

Then Spike threw him a curve ball. 

Enigmatic face, skin stretched over features so fine he could have graced any catwalk in Paris. Indifferent to the blood welling from a deep cut on his chest. Thin lips curled into a sneer as Spike snarled. "Who said I was talking about you?"

Xander stood there for a moment, blinking as Spike's words sunk in. The breath and rage sucked right out him with one sentence. He was a nobody, he was used to being a nobody. Used to being ridiculed, laughed at and generally ignored.

His view on the world went a little screwy, and he doubted it would ever right itself after Spike's words.

He knew he had played his own part in demeaning Spike. Having been on the receiving end so often himself, to see his own face lining up beside Angelus, Drusilla and Buffy taunting Spike made Xander feel sick to his stomach.

Xander struggled to grasp what he was feeling and finally identified it as....kinship?

Spike was already regretting his outburst. Xander could see it clearly by way of the level of liquid disappearing in the bottle Spike guzzled at a rapid rate. 

Sympathy wouldn't cut it now, it never had with him. All Xander could do was slump on the edge of the bed, lean over and wrench the bottle from Spike's hand.

"Oi!"

Taking a deep swig and almost gagging, he gasped out, "William the Bloody is a good name to go a Viking with. I don't know him very well, and I'm not sure I should trust him. But I'd like to." 

Pausing to see if he had the vampires attention, he did, Xander gathered his courage and carried on. He took another drink before handing the bottle back to Spike. "Friends and lovers will treat us like shit but we'll still come running when they call. That's what we do, that's what we are. We'll save them from their own mess and they will never thank us for it, except laugh when we occasionally drag them into ours. Sometimes...sometimes its nice to have someone who understands that. "

{{And sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith and hope it doesn't kill you.}}

Xander crawled up the bed until he covered Spike's body with his own. He reached out, firmly grasping Spike's chin and asked gravely. "Can I trust you to watch my back, William the Bloody? If I give my oath to watch yours, can I trust you? When that chip comes out, and it *will* come out eventually. You're too devious and smart not to think of a way. Can I trust you then or are all bets off?"

Spike's eyes widened, as vivid blue shifted to molten gold, Xander had never seen the vampire so surprised or so vulnerable.

And waited patiently for an answer.
***********
Part Ten

"I hate this. I really, really hate this," Buffy snapped for about the fifth time.

"First, Xander goes all wiggy and attacks Spike. Okay, I can understand that, even approve. But to invite him out to *play* and leave us running after them all night picking up the pieces? Xander's gone nuts," she finished heatedly.

{{A Slayer who has no control over a situation is a very unhappy Slayer indeed}}, Riley thought morosely.

"No he hasn't," Willow protested. "He's just...just acting a little strange. Anya is still missing and I'm sure he has a perfectly good explanation for..for.."

"Busting Willie's place up? Twice?" Buffy prompted.

Riley sat on the couch watching the two women argue back and forth. So far they'd been at it for twenty minutes, if they kept it up he was pretty sure he'd have enough material to fill a few lessons in psyche class next year.

Giles had apparently reached the end of his patience. "Stop it." He turned to Buffy inquiring, "You say that Spike and Xander left here, and went straight to Willie's. He directed them to...."

"...after Xander almost broke Willie's neck!!" Buffy interjected.

A pointed stare from Giles.

"Shutting up now," Buffy mimicked zipping her mouth shut.

"Thank you," Giles managed to insert just the right amount of reproof. "Now, we can assume that they went after Anya. But it doesn't explain why they went back there...?" Giles turned to Riley. "How long do you estimate?"

Riley frowned. "About an hour and a half. We must have past them on the way somehow. By the time we arrived at the docks, the warehouse was deserted, no sign of a fight or struggle. So we swung by Willie's again on the way back to see if he had anything else to add. Spike and Xander had totally trashed the place, *again*."

"Spike started it the second time," Willow piped up. She struggled not to wilt under every ones gaze. "Well, he *did*. Spike wanted to watch something on the television and a demon objected. After that...," she just shrugged. 

Buffy voiced her own concerns. "They didn't have Anya, and when Willie asked about her, Xander almost bit his head off."

"Err, Buffy? I think Willie said Xander almost *cut* his head off." Riley corrected. "Giles? When did Xander start carrying round an axe? Oh, and Willie wants to know who's going to pay for all the stuff they stole."

The stealing seemed to bother Giles more than the fight or the axe. "Xander stole money?" The Watcher blinked in dismay as Riley handed over the list of damages and items stolen that Willie had thrust into his hand as they had left.

"Oh, dear. This is quite a tidy sum."

"Giles!!" Buffy exclaimed. "Can we concentrate on Anya kidnapped, Xander missing, Spike's *with* him. The whole running amok thing?"

The Englishman had the grace to look a little chagrined. "Yes, of course."

As per usual in a time of crisis, the sound of a telephone ringing can be exceptionally loud.

Riley chalked up a mental note never to get in Buffy or Willow's path during the Xmas sales as he watched them storm towards the phone. He marvelled at the fortitude of Giles who picked up the receiver in a snatch and grab move that would have made any thief proud. Giles then pointedly turned his back to avoid the killer stares from a certain red haired witch and the Slayer. {{Brave man!}}

"Xander? Thank God, are you alright?"

As they listened to the one sided conversation the rest of the occupants in the room became tense. It didn't sound good, especially when Giles' face fell and he said, "Oh, Xander. I'm so sorry. Is there anything we can do?"

Willow appeared devastated and Buffy began to search the room for her weapons.

Giles hung up the phone, then with some embarrassement on Xander's behalf, explained the situation. Willow's face became eerily calm. 

"I'm thinking a toad," she said eventually. "A big, warty, ugly, slimy toad."

"I'm in," Buffy immediately confirmed. The Slayer tapped her foot for a moment, glanced slyly at Willow and asked. "Do you think you could make her, like..poisonous or something? A danger to the good citizens of Sunnydale so I can do some serious slayage?"

Not for the first time, Riley stared at Giles in sympathy. {{And if I ever break up with Buffy? Volunteer for a hazardous mission overseas and don't stop until I see the jungle}}.

**********

Neutral ground, Spike had said. 

{{HA!!}}

Surveying the underground rooms branded with Spike's vampire punk taste and leftover human 'vampire wanna be' cool, made Xander appreciate Martha Stewart. He snorted softly in disgust.

Spike was fussing as to where to put *their* 'booty', as he so eloquently put it. Xander pointed out as forcefully as he could, that (a) there was nothing he wanted, (b) *he* hadn't stolen anything and (c) by the way, had Spike forgotten that they were perhaps still on Sunnydales police shit list? And if they kept this up might very well garnish a number one spot? 

The vampire ignored him, tapped open the keg and poured Xander a beer. He thrust the glass into Xander's hand and said with a leer. "American beer tastes like piss. I sure as hell didn't get it for me. Drink up luv, it'll put hairs on your chest." 

"I never noticed you complaining," Xander shot back.

Spike shrugged casually, "I spent a century with Angelus, pet. Guess I just got used to it." Xander was still gaping in shock as Spike grabbed a bottle of JD, and in a move that would have scored at least a nine with the diving committee, launched himself onto the bed. 

With glass in hand Xander began to wander about, anything to avoid glancing in the direction of the bed.

A bed with black silk sheets upon which lay Spike. A shirtless Spike, who's pale ivory skin looked absolutely ...and he was sooo not going there.

Lazy, self-satisfied laughter caused him to pause.

"I'm glad one of us is having a good time," he snarled.

Unrepentant, Spike settled back amongst the pillows and said, "Watching you have a panic attack is almost as much fun as watchin' Peaches brood."

Xander glared at the vampire, tried hard to avoid thinking how much Spike looked like a decadent cat just waiting to be stroked; and failed.

Frustrated at his own lack of self-control, Xander sat down heavily on a couch. The contents of his glass were stupefyingly interesting all of a sudden.

God! Why did it always end this way with him? 

He had thought she loved him. {{Yeah, you thought you loved her too, until you slept with Spike.}}

Was he incapable of holding on to anyone? 

{{If this is growing up I want a refund. It sucks.}}

He winced at the terminology. Sucking, undead things, Spike. Xander lifted his eyes and found himself staring at the source of yet another problem.

The 'problem' was still lounging on the bed alternately smoking a cigarette and draining a bottle. Yet despite Spike's apparent indifference, Xander could see the vampire was tense.

{{Mr Confident is tense. That can't be a good sign. He's got what he wanted. Now he's probably trying to figure out a way to tell me to piss off without getting himself dusted}}

His mouth twisted at the irony of it all. Would Buffy just shrug and say "Cosmic justice" if she found out? Somehow he doubted it. And what was there to find out any way?

{{When I'm with Spike I feel like I'm *alive*. Well, duh!! Let's not take time to examine how stupid that sounds, shall we?}}

"Fair gives you the shits sometimes, doesn't it?" Spike's voice cut through Xander's mental gymnastics.

"What?"

Spike lay prone on the sheets staring at the ceiling, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying. "Being cast aside by the people you love. Treated like you're demented and can't help 'being the way you are'..."

"Shut up," Xander growled.

The barrage from Spike continued. " Sick and bleedin' tired of the looks of pity as you run from one demented fuck up to another. Fed up with trying to please those who made you, 'cause no matter what you do it will never be good enough."

A red haze of fury gripped Xander. He off the couch and screaming before he knew it. "SHUT UP. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

The beer glass shattered against the wall behind the bed, Spike didn't even flinch as shards of glass cut into him.

"Don't start playing your fucking mind games with me Spike." Xander stormed towards the bed. "Don't you bloody dare! You don't know what's going on inside my head, and if you do? Then stay the *hell* out of it."

Xander loomed over Spike's reclining form, fists clenched, his whole body shaking. The urge to pummel the vampire into a bloody pulp, defenceless or no, extremely enticing.

Then Spike threw him a curve ball. 

Enigmatic face, skin stretched over features so fine he could have graced any catwalk in Paris. Indifferent to the blood welling from a deep cut on his chest. Thin lips curled into a sneer as Spike snarled. "Who said I was talking about you?"

Xander stood there for a moment, blinking as Spike's words sunk in. The breath and rage sucked right out him with one sentence. He was a nobody, he was used to being a nobody. Used to being ridiculed, laughed at and generally ignored.

His view on the world went a little screwy, and he doubted it would ever right itself after Spike's words.

He knew he had played his own part in demeaning Spike. Having been on the receiving end so often himself, to see his own face lining up beside Angelus, Drusilla and Buffy taunting Spike made Xander feel sick to his stomach.

Xander struggled to grasp what he was feeling and finally identified it as....kinship?

Spike was already regretting his outburst. Xander could see it clearly by way of the level of liquid disappearing in the bottle Spike guzzled at a rapid rate. 

Sympathy wouldn't cut it now, it never had with him. All Xander could do was slump on the edge of the bed, lean over and wrench the bottle from Spike's hand.

"Oi!"

Taking a deep swig and almost gagging, he gasped out, "William the Bloody is a good name to go a Viking with. I don't know him very well, and I'm not sure I should trust him. But I'd like to." 

Pausing to see if he had the vampires attention, he did, Xander gathered his courage and carried on. He took another drink before handing the bottle back to Spike. "Friends and lovers will treat us like shit but we'll still come running when they call. That's what we do, that's what we are. We'll save them from their own mess and they will never thank us for it, except laugh when we occasionally drag them into ours. Sometimes...sometimes its nice to have someone who understands that. "

{{And sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith and hope it doesn't kill you.}}

Xander crawled up the bed until he covered Spike's body with his own. He reached out, firmly grasping Spike's chin and asked gravely. "Can I trust you to watch my back, William the Bloody? If I give my oath to watch yours, can I trust you? When that chip comes out, and it *will* come out eventually. You're too devious and smart not to think of a way. Can I trust you then or are all bets off?"

Spike's eyes widened, as vivid blue shifted to molten gold, Xander had never seen the vampire so surprised or so vulnerable.

And waited patiently for an answer.
*************
Part Eleven
Generally speaking, Xander had always felt his past participation and 'Wow' effect at parties--if measured--tipped heavily into the negative end of the spectrum. He'd never been a wallflower, more like the wall behind the wallpaper the wallflowers leaned against.
Two bright young things skipped past, fluttered their eyelashes and said, "Hi". He casually returned the greeting, and smiled at the giggles while pondering how much more interesting life had become since spandex was invented. And who knew squirrels could look that sexy?
He was pretty sure there were a few hundred or so unknown gods laughing their guts out right now. Recalling his previous over-eager attempts to fit in with the cool crowd, Xander couldn't blame them if they were. 
Raising his eyes to the heavens, he mumbled "You people have a sick sense of humor." 
Xander Harris had just discovered the joys of not giving a shit. 
He'd dressed to please himself, sort of. Glancing down at his costume, Xander didn't think it warranted as much attention as he'd been receiving. {{Maybe its the stubble?}} he thought, fingering his three day growth. 
If he counted correctly--and although arithmetic had never been his strong suit, he was capable of the whole one plus one thing--he'd been hit on tonight more times than the sum total of every previous party beforehand. Since the count included parties from the age of five onward, he was currently vacillating between pathetic laughter and outright glee. 
A plastic cup full of punch with enough kick to floor at least three demons, was lifted in a silent toast. {{ Are you listening Odin? Just wanted to say thanks. And not trying to sound ungrateful or anything big fella, but where the hell were you in high school?}} 
"Hey, there." 
He straightened up and smiled. "Hey yourself. Having fun?" 
Willow made a delectable witch. So did Tara for that matter, but Xander actually restrained himself from becoming too gushy. He was still having a few difficulties with certain particular 'First Slayer' flashbacks. Never mind the one featuring Buffy's mom, which could still turn him into a gibbering wreck.
"So..." he prompted. 
"I saw you talking to Phoebe earlier on. Was there sparkage?" Willow asked, her face bright with eager anticipation. 
{{Phoebe?}} Xander frowned. He couldn't recall talking to a Phoebe. 
"The poodle," Tara added helpfully. 
Recognition dawned. "Aaaah. That was Phoebe?" 
Willow nodded. 
Xander smiled. It started off as a twitch then crept slowly across his face, brown eyes lit up with mirth. A deep warm laugh rolled out across the room, turning heads. 
A Xena wanna-be briefly lost her concentration while showing off her sword skills and accidentally 'killed' Gabrielle. Even Tara smiled at that one. 
"I'm thinking," Xander started to snigger, his eyes still fixed on Gabrielle beating Xena over the head with a big stick. "I'm thinking that the choice of a poodle was a great decision for Phoebe. She's just a little too... perky for me, Wills."
"Oh." Willow's pretty face fell in disappointment. 
Xander laughed. Amused no end that Willow's plans at matchmaking didn't even embarrass him. She was just trying to help with Operation 'get Xander over Anya'. 
He scanned the party, full of college guys and gals all dancing away merrily, before asking. "Where's our Buffmeister? She who insisted I attend or face a horrid death?" 
"Patrolling." 
Xander let his face ask the question. 
"She and Riley are still sort of embarrassed after the last party," Willow explained and shrugged her shoulders. "So they're doing the patrolling thing by way of compensation." 
Music started up and Willow dragged Tara away for a dance. Xander watched them go and was glad his favourite redhead was happy. 
The 'not giving a shit' was a rule that applied only to himself, not the people he cared about. And no, he wasn't suicidal or anything dramatic like that. But somewhere in the last few weeks or so, he'd stopped caring about what people he didn't know thought of him.
He was developing... priorities. 
Spike had started off as priority eight. Xander had at first wrestled with the ugly fact that the vampire made his top ten list at all, but had shrugged it off as hormones. It was more than a little disturbing to know the bleached wonder had somehow managed to bite, claw and charm his way up into the top five.
As much as Xander hated to admit it, Spike's prescence was turning out to be a good influence on him--except when it wasn't-- and Xander sternly reminded himself about their little run in with the police. 
He'd noticed differences, even if the others had not. Less frantic and eager to please. Calmer and more confident with his own ideas and ideals. 
The blonde vampire could mock with the best of them. But he always listened. Sure, it was sometimes accompanied by a rolling of the eyes and twisted smile. And lets not forget the scowl and swearing when the 'B' word was mentioned, but he listened. 
Xander discovered that his own opinions and thoughts mattered. *He* mattered, and Xander Harris was taking a back seat to no-one voluntarily ever again. 
{{Unless Spike makes me an offer I can't refuse.}} 
He sighed and took another drink. In the far corner, a St. Bernard was putting the moves on a Playboy bunny and failing miserably. {{Maybe I should introduce him to the poodle?}} came the thought.
Xander was just about ready to leave when he heard... 
"I've always wanted to see Paris. Come upstairs and tell me all about it." 
{{I know that voice. Where do I know that voice?}} 
"...and did you know that the Winter Fashion show is a few weeks away? Not that anyone in this hole cares but *really*, there's no excuse for wearing last season's clothes. It's so passe."
He moved over to the stairs in time to catch a waft of expensive perfume and see a pair of delicate heels escape from view. 
Eyes narrowed, Xander continued to stare up the staircase before saying to himself. "Hello, Harmony. Dare I guess what has brought you to this little shindig?" 

Entry was made easy by some moron so blasted he thought Spike was actually in fancy dress. The stupid nit backed away hastily at the snarl and golden eyes which had greeted *that* comment. 
Spike didn't 'do' fancy dress. Angelus had forced him to wear enough noncy clothes to last an undead lifetime. 
"Wow, you look sooo cool. Who are you supposed to be?" 
Spike turned his head slowly, favouring the human with such a look of disdain it would have bubbled paint from walls thirty feet away. On closer examination the vampire knew it was a wasted effort. The furball wearing a collar had eyes so vacant they could have held a whole soccer match inside the space between her ears. 
"So are you like, you know, with someone? Are you new here 'cause I haven't seen you round before," she gushed. 
Spike dragged his eyes away from the walking pom-pom. {{Just when I thought humans couldn't look any more stupid....}} Scanning the room, he replied with complete indifference. "Probably why you're still breathin'." 
{{Where the *fuck* is he?}} 
The girl was already forgotten as Spike sliced through the packed crowd. 
One, two, four rooms and still no sign of Xander. He'd filched a bottle of scotch on the way. Annoyance had already set in and Spike was a fang away from full blown pissed off. 
Spike shouldn't have been here. Didn't *want* to be here, yet here he was. Spike didn't want to ask himself why he'd bolted over to the party once he'd seen the Slayer and corn boy out on partrol. 
Asking yourself questions led to answers. Spike had a pretty good idea he knew the answers and that's why he wasn't asking himself questions. {{And I'm spending too much time around the whelp 'cause that almost made bloody sense.}} 
A flash of red hair and he zeroed in. 
{{Okay. Found the witches, and... he's not with 'em. I'm going to fuckin' kill 'im!!}} 
Never mind the fact that he and Xander had agreed to meet *after* the party. 
He re-assessed that last promise and adjusted it slightly. 
{{Right,}} Spike nodded to himself, mind made up. 
{{Fuck Xander, then kill him..... And if I'm going to be without me Viking, I should probably have one more shag after I say good bye...Fond memories and all that crap....}}
An extremely dishevelled Napoleon, closely followed by Josephine--still doing up her buttons--half tumbled down the stairs. They quickly righted themselves, grinning like idiots. The couple shared an embarrassed glance, and merged into the party.
He watched them go, swivelled his body with excruciating slowness, and looked up in the direction from which they had come. 
A deep low growl formed in his chest and kept on coming until it exited as feral snarl. 
He paused at the top of the stairs, using every sense he had to find that which was....{{MINE}}. Head cocked to one side, he filtered out the noise one sound at a time. Music, laughter, voices--they all faded until Spike found what he was seeking. 
Male, female and Xander. 
Once upon a time he might have been surprised, even impressed. But that was before... before what exactly? {{Fuck it. Another question, and this time I know the answer}} 
The bottle of scotch left a hole in the wall as it smashed into a thousand pieces. 
His face was a cold mask as he glided smoothly down the hall. The vampire barely noticed the humans who took one look and hastily extricated themselves from his path. 
The chip would be a problem, but all he needed to see were faces. Spike still had connections that could rend a body limb from limb. He might even consider offering a bonus if they took their time and made it a week or two before the victims died. 

Toby tried to explain to the committee afterwards that the damage wasn't his fault. But one glance at the disbelief and downright amusement in the faces seated before him and he knew it was a wasted effort. 
And yeah, he could see it from their perspective, but they would never see it from his. He was on the wrestling team, it wouldn't be too hard to get a transfer. Alaska sounded nice.
'Cause Toby had just had a little trip into the Twilight Zone and he wasn't ever going back there. Not ever. 
The blonde chick had appeared an easy target. Not too much upstairs, with a body that rocked. Hell, she'd even led him out to the balcony like she knew the score. 
Then, after they'd started making out, pain ripped through his neck. And the ditz suddenly had enough strength to hold her own against the whole team, she had a grip on his neck and wasn't letting go. 
He could feel himself getting light headed, knew it was bad, then the pain was gone and things started getting really freaky. Half unconscious up against a flower pot he tried to focus, wished he hadn't when an axe swept passed, missed him by inches and sliced into the girl's arm.
Harmony? Yeah, that was her name. Harmony looked weird, all yellow eyes and wrinkles, blood around her mouth and, he shuddered, fangs. Toby knew it was his blood, the warm trickle leaking out of his neck was a clue even *he* couldn't miss. 
Which left the other guy. The one who was chiding Harmony like she was a dog who'd just been caught digging up the back yard. Bad puppy. It would have been kinda funny, except it wasn't. 
They danced around, mouthing off at each other like old high school buddies. The axe was starting to bother him but Toby thought the guy was on his side and he still didn't have the strength to move. 
And then the door blew out. 
Didn't slam open, didn't crash off it's hinges-it just fucking *blew*. 
Ever been trapped out on a balcony with a snake that's really, really pissed off? 
'Cause when those ice cold blue eyes raked over him, Toby knew just how a mouse felt. Maybe he even uttered a little squeak or two. And was it his imagination or did those cold eyes get a little warmer when they looked at his neck? 
Scary guy seemed to calm down a little, his mouth twists into a crooked smile, makes a sort of 'tut tut' sound as he says. "Can't leave you alone for a minute. Can I, pet? No fair having fun without me."
"Spike," Harmony croons. 
Oh Christ, its her boyfriend. 
Harmony seems glad to see him, but that changes. Right about the time this Spike guy steps forward and in one smooth move--shoves her off the balcony. 
Toby watches as the two guys peer over the edge looking kinda pleased with themselves. Can't help but gasp as the brunette starts to snigger then says, "She's gonna be pissed. Rose bushes and a Dior dress..." 
There's a loud shriek of rage from below. 
"...just don't mix," comes the gleeful conclusion. 
Hit fast forward and Spike's hands are all over his 'Pet', muttering words like, 'wonderful' and 'magnificent' and 'naughty little Viking'? Toby's breaking out into a sweat just watching 'em and prays to God they don't notice him. It time to get out of here.
He winces as his silent crawl towards the door is exposed by the sound of breaking glass. One terrified look behind and shit, he's been seen.
'Viking' guy tries to extricate himself from the octopus arms of Spike, who's purring in a way that Toby *thinks* is a good sign. In exasperation the Viking shoves the bloody axe into Spike's hand and tells him to 'have a snack'.
Warm brown eyes with a soothing voice try to calm Toby down. He can't find the words to tell his saviour that the sight of Spike in the background, licking the bloody axe head like a lollipop, is ruining the whole effect.
But they let him go. 
So here he is today. Alive. Re-living a nightmare and putting in the transfer papers tomorrow morning. 
The others can laugh and tease all they want about him hitting the juice too hard but Toby knows better. He knows what he saw. 
Vikings are alive and living in Sunnydale--together with a whole lot of other creepy shit that he don't need. 
*****
Part Twelve
Spike took one look at the figure standing next to him and spared a thought on exactly how much punch Xander had consumed at the party. 
"Errr. Hang on a mo', will you mate?" 
Xander rolled his eyes as Spike adroitly moved to stand to his left-and about four feet behind. 
"Oh, c'mon!!" the brunette exclaimed in exasperation, gesturing wildly at the tree in front of them. "It's not *that* far. I can't possibly miss." He stared hard at the vampire before accusing heatedly. "You don't think I can do it. Do you?" 
Spike made a melodrama of pretending to consider the options, glancing significantly at the tree then Xander before replying. " Will my answer 'ave any effect on our shaggin' later on?" 
An emphatic nod from Xander. 
Spike promptly plastered a false grin on his face and replied. " Poor tree. Poor little forty foot oak tree. All alone and defenceless against the big, scary Viking. Oh, the calamity...." 
Xander realised his error all too late. "Very funny," he muttered darkly. 
Pacing back and forth in mock aggravation and concern, Spike continued. " I don't know why you didn't start off with something easier. A small shrub? It was good enough for Monty Python, why not give that a go first? You could work your way up to apricots and oranges before going up against the big fella's." 
The vampire shuddered and waved his arms about expansively. "I've seen 'em when they're pissed off and I'm telling you, it's not a pretty sight. Oak leaves and acorns flying through the air. Fair gives me the horrors it does." 
"Horrors?" 
Spike clasped one hand against his chest, pointing the other towards the tree, his expression one of feigned horror. "From oak trees do little stakes grow." 
Xander stood there, spluttering. "That's, that's..." 
The vampire walked forward, draped an arm over Xander's shoulders and nodded solemnly. "I know, luv. I just thought I'd let you know how much I appreciate this." 
"I hate you," Xander's expression was one of unrequited loathing. 
Spike made no attempt to hide his enjoyment as he trotted back to his former spot, assumed an aggressive pose and called out. "Go ahead, pet. I've got your back." 
Xander glared at the still chuckling blonde. There was no way he was going to win this encounter. His only chance at gaining some semblance of dignity lay in hitting his target. 
Deep steady breathing, a firm grip on the axe, three steps and he let fly. The axe flew, turning end over end in the air and ...... 
SMASH. 
Long silence. 
A cricket started chirping. 
Both stared at the unmarked trunk before their gaze swung about twelve feet to the right. 
Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, Spike exhaled, the smoke drifted away and he said drolly, "Garden gnomes all over the world are trembling in fear as we speak." 
There was an audible groan as Xander searched for a convenient open Hellmouth. Failing that, anything that was big enough to swallow him whole would do fine right now. 
The vampire strolled nonchalantly over to the debris, stirring the shattered pieces with the toe of his boot then bent down. After tucking Xander's axe underneath his duster, Spike straightened, one hand delicately grasped around his souvenir. Blue eyes twinkling with mirth, Spike returned to Xander, his voice was laced with humor as he said. " We'll take this one with us, I'm pretty sure these are a protected species. Maybe we can flog it off to some collector." 
Xander closed his eyes to avoid the view. Spike's treasure of the neck and head of a decapitated flourescent pink flamingo-- was just too much. "Shut up, will you?" the mortal groaned. "Just. Shut. Up." 
******* 
{{Should 'ave kept me bleedin' gob shut!}} Came the furious thought. Spike scowled at the dejected figure currently viewing his CD collection by the stereo set. 
But he hadn't. 
It was possible that some of his comments on the way back to his place after Xander's failure, had perhaps, just perhaps, overstepped the bounds a little. {{ I'm a fucking demon! I don't *have* any bounds.}} 
Now he had a sulking Xan-pet with no interest in anything, least of all some mind blowing sex. Which was a pity, because Xander looked absolutely delicious. 
Spike had to give the mortal credit, he really had done a knock-up job on the costume. The short sleeved under-shirt, the long pants, even the leather ankle boots, all looked hand made. But the three-quarter length dark brown leather vest with various scrapes and marks was a triumph. 
The construction work Xander had been doing lately definitely suited him. A dark tan showed off the matching silver bracelets clasped firmly round the mortals upper arms. Not to mention how the work had toned Xander's muscles, and Spike was getting hard just thinking about the effect that three day growth would have on his own skin. 
{{Bloody Hell!! I'm *not* lettin' all that effort go to waste.}} 
Striding across the room, he peered at the CD's Xander was half-heartedly flicking through and realised he'd arrived just in time. Chip or no chip, the boy would have been nothing but rendered tissue if he'd put on any of that country and western crap. 
{{Oi!! I don't *have* any country and western CD's!!!}} 
Firmly resolved to ditch them as soon as his nummy left the next morning, Spike set about distracting Xander from his mood. He'd start off slowly and work his way up to sex. 
" You know, if you sit there all night and brood, my dick is going to suffer from serious non-coital depression." 
The CD cracked in Xander's hand. 
{{Shit!}} 
Spike hurriedly replaced the broken disk with another before trying again. " Have you ever looked into your family tree, pet? 'Cause I'm detecting some definite broody qualities here. You know, Angelus was always a randy sod, even before 'e was turned. Do you have any relatives in Ireland?" 
{{Ha! And Peaches said I didn't know the meaning of subtle.}} 
Xander's head swivelled ever so slowly and the mortal favoured Spike with a look of disbelief. "Care to repeat that?" he asked. 
And no. Spike did not care to repeat that, because Spike could see Xander walking out the door any minute now. {{Phase three}} 
Placing a hand on Xander's leather clad shoulder, Spike said earnestly. "Don't let the tree get to you, mate. Besides, hitting flesh and bone is more important, and much more fun." 
"I've been fooling myself." 
{{Hellmouth on a stick. Where the bloody hell is his mind goin' now?}} 
Spike took it as a good sign that Xander misunderstood his confused expression. 
Xander gestured to his axe and his clothes. "This whole Viking thing is just a crock of shit. I'm not anything like them and I never will be." 
{{Fuck!! Fuck and double fuck with Slayer innards sprinkled on top.}} 
More than once Spike's words had sucked him headfirst into strife. At present, he chose not to delve too deeply into the out of control panic he was feeling at this moment. Xander was seconds away from returning to same under confident, self-loathing Slayer's Pet he used to be. 
If Spike let him walk out the door in this mood, he seriously doubted that the mortal would be back. 
{{And *that* ain't happenin'.}} 
"Bullshit," he snarled. "You were doing their type of thing long before I even mentioned the Viking stuff to you." 
This earned him a doubtful glare. But that was fine, at least Spike had the boys attention. 
"Name one." 
"One what?" Spike replied, deliberately vague. 
Xander sat up straight, his eyes hard. "Name on instance when I acted like a Viking. *Before* I started listening to your insane little fantasies." 
"Dragon killing." 
"Fine." Xander was up and stalking towards the stairs in seconds. "I'm not letting you mess with my head...." 
Spike scrambled to block Xander's path before he could reach the first step. "If you'll stop and listen instead of prancing off like snotty nosed nancy boy, I'll bleedin' well tell you." 
{{And you're not goin' even if you want to.}} 
After a brief hesitation, Xander wheeled round and plonked himself on the bed, arms folded. "I'm listening. Although, I think you've been eating those mushrooms again. *I've* never heard of any dragon slaying Vikings. Besides, wasn't St George English?" 
Spike decided to pay a visit to the teaching department of the closest school as soon as possible. He'd be doing the youth of this town a service. "What *do* they teach you at school these days?" he asked, shaking his head. "St George wasn't English, he was a Turk and ...this has nothing to do with St George. SO WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET MET GET TO THE BLOODY POINT?" 
Xander nodded, reluctantly. 
Struggling to control his annoyance -- by fervently reminding himself of the rewards. Spike continued. "Norse legends are rather long and boring, so I'll keep this short. There was this bloke called Sigurd, killed a dragon. So, as far as historical legend goes, Vikings have killed dragons. Okay?" 
"Why?" 
"Why what?" 
"Why did he kill the dragon?" Xander asked, his curiosity roused. 
{{The things I do to get a shag these days.}} 
"Sigurd's grandfather had stolen it off a dwarf. Sigurd's father and uncle killed the bloke to get the gold, but the uncle turned into a dragon and kept it," Spike sneeked a glance and saw he had Xander's confused interest. 
"So, the boy was sent to go steal it back from his uncle. Sigurd tried everything but couldn't kill the tosser, even broke a sword doing it. Then 'e gets a brilliant idea. Sneaks under the dragon when its not lookin', and stabs the bastard right in the guts. End of dragon. Happy now?" 
"So he killed the dragon and took the gold back to his Dad. A hero. I bet his Dad was pleased, big reward?" Xander was bright eyed at the thought. 
"Bigger than you think, pet" Spike replied with a wide grin. " Seems the old man was a greedy sod and wasn't goin' to share. Sigurd kills his Dad and keeps all the gold for himself." 
"Oh." Xander's crestfallen expression indicated he didn't know how to take that last bit. 
Face scrunched up in thought, he stared up Spike. "Soooo, let me get this straight. My point of reference, is a guy who killed his Uncle *and* his Dad, to steal the gold. As a matter of fact, my Viking guy comes from a long line of greedy homicidal maniacs?" 
Spike could see nothing wrong with that pedigree. {{Obviously you and I still 'ave a lot of work to do.}} He sniffed in disgust. 
"The dragon, pet," he admonished. "Don't forget the dragon." 
Xander rolled his eyes. "How could I forget the dragon, when I've never even seen a dragon?" Sarcasm dripping from every word, Xander dropped to the floor and started peering under the bed. "Let me look, maybe he's hiding. Heeere Puff. Where are you Puff?" 
Reacting without thought, Spike attempted a well deserved clip behind the ears. He crashed to the ground blinded by pain, wishing death and a slow dismemberment on every man, woman and child wearing khaki. 
Then sank blissfully into unconsciousness. 

Xander equated the sense of guilt he was feeling at the moment to like that of when Cordelia had caught he and Willow kissing. Then felt guilty about the fact he hadn't felt that guilty when he was cheating on Anya with Spike. 
He sighed. {{I wonder if I can volunteer for Buffy's psych class? Free therapy offset by the Gang realising that I'm a raving loony?}} 
After Spike's collapse, he'd hauled the vampire up on to the bed making him as comfortable as possible. Xander also briefly debated if he should run while he still could, but nixed that idea almost as soon as it formed. 
Now he sat beside the vampire, staring down at the still form and used the time to his own advantage. Opportunities to view Spike in repose were few and far between. 
Once again he was struck by just how beautiful Spike was. Features like cut glass, so sharp and defined. Even in sleep, the vampire still seemed two feet taller than he actually was. 
Xander's gaze drifted to the coat which covered the package he was so admiring. "Let's get you out of this," he said to his non responsive bed mate. 
When the coat was gone, the boots were next. He held one up, examining it closely. Funny how certain things reminded you of someone. Black dusters and Docs were always intimately linked to Spike. 
Hands automatically reached for the belt buckle which was when he hesitated. Even though he wasn't going to remove the pants it seemed wrong somehow to take advantage of the situation. 
The inner debate lasted for some time before Xander finally gave in. 
"It's about time," came the growl. 
"Aaahhhh," Xander fell back on his ass in surprise, and found Spike staring at him through half closed lids. 
The guilt came rushing back. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. 
Spike responded with a small twisted smile. "Show me." 
Xander felt his body respond, returning the smile with one of his own. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You've just been through a great trauma...." 
The underground space echoed with the sound of a feral snarl. 
"But if you put it that way," he quickly added. 
Xander moved forward, settled himself beside his lover and leaned over for the kiss. This one was unlike the others they had shared. This kiss was not driven by out of control desire, anger or adrenaline. 
In this kiss, Xander said he was sorry, and Spike said that it was okay. Soft and slow, it showed they knew one another and what pleased each other. It showed a hell of a lot more than that. 
When they broke apart, Xander found the bed linen suddenly facinating. They'd both said something in that kiss. Something they couldn't put into words. 
His confusion came from the fact that he was uncertain if his words and Spike's would be the same. 
Xander snuggled down next to the black clad form, sans boots, which he found kinda funny. {{With his boots off Spike looks less - I am the meanest vampire around- and more- I'm just a normal demon spending quality time with my lover.}} Xander grinned. {{Any minute now I'm gonna go all gushy}} 
"What are you smiling at?" 
{{Ooops. Busted}} 
"Nothing." 
Spike snorted and Xander felt the air move around his ear. It was nice. Intimate, and damned sexy. His hands started to undo the leather vest. 
"Leave it," Spike ordered, turning his head and began to nuzzle Xander's neck. 
Which was *more* than nice. *Wonderfully* intimate, and *hotter* than hell. 
Then it all went away. 
{{What?}} 
"I'm goin' to finish telling you this Viking thing," Spike growled with determination. "And then the subject is closed. Got it?" 
Xander nodded and settled back in the vampires arms. "It's been ages since I've had a bedtime story," he replied. 
"Oh for Gods sake!" Spike moaned. "You're a five year old masquerading as an adult." 
Xander fluttered his eyelashes and grinned. Which earned him a hard kiss from Spike. 
{{Note to self: The fluttering of eyelashes is mightier than the axe. Next time ask for hot chocolate.}} 
Title: Welcome to Valhalla 12/14 
Author: Kaz Distribution: List archives and those crazy enough to have asked. Disclaimer: Not mine and with the current exchange rate against the US dollar its hardly worth the effort to sue me. Belong to Joss Whedon, etc. Summary: At the frat party, Xander had a tiff with Harmony and Spike knocked her off the balcony <Are you reading this Joss?> Thanks to one and all for the suggestions re Xander's name. Spike's vote counted and I think he cheated. This is *his* interpration not mine. Thanks also to Kim for the rune stones idea. Feedback: After being so slow with this I can't threaten but beg your indulgence. Email:
***** 
Spike took one look at the figure standing next to him and spared a thought on exactly how much punch Xander had consumed at the party. 
"Errr. Hang on a mo', will you mate?" 
Xander rolled his eyes as Spike adroitly moved to stand to his left-and about four feet behind. 
"Oh, c'mon!!" the brunette exclaimed in exasperation, gesturing wildly at the tree in front of them. "It's not *that* far. I can't possibly miss." He stared hard at the vampire before accusing heatedly. "You don't think I can do it. Do you?" 
Spike made a melodrama of pretending to consider the options, glancing significantly at the tree then Xander before replying. " Will my answer 'ave any effect on our shaggin' later on?" 
An emphatic nod from Xander. 
Spike promptly plastered a false grin on his face and replied. " Poor tree. Poor little forty foot oak tree. All alone and defenceless against the big, scary Viking. Oh, the calamity...." 
Xander realised his error all too late. "Very funny," he muttered darkly. 
Pacing back and forth in mock aggravation and concern, Spike continued. " I don't know why you didn't start off with something easier. A small shrub? It was good enough for Monty Python why not give that a go first? You could work your way up to apricots and oranges before going up against the big fella's." 
The vampire shuddered and waved his arms about expansively. "I've seen 'em when they're pissed off and I'm telling you, it's not a pretty sight. Oak leaves and acorns flying through the air. Fair gives me the horrors it does." 
"Horrors?" 
Spike clasped one hand against his chest, pointing the other towards the tree, his expression one of feigned horror. "From oak trees do little stakes grow." 
Xander stood there, spluttering. "That's, that's..." 
The vampire walked forward, draped an arm over Xander's shoulders and nodded solemnly. "I know, luv. I just thought I'd let you know how much I appreciate this." 
"I hate you," Xander's expression was one of unrequited loathing. 
Spike made no attempt to hide his enjoyment as he trotted back to his former spot, assumed an aggressive pose and called out. "Go ahead, pet. I've got your back." 
Xander glared at the still chuckling blonde. There was no way he was going to win this encounter. His only chance at gaining some semblance of dignity lay in hitting his target. 
Deep steady breathing, a firm grip on the axe, three steps and he let fly. The axe flew, turning end over end in the air and ...... 
SMASH. 
Long silence. 
A cricket started chirping. 
Both stared at the unmarked trunk before their gaze swung about twelve feet to the right. 
Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, Spike exhaled, the smoke drifted away and he said drolly, "Garden gnomes all over the world are trembling in fear as we speak." 
There was an audible groan as Xander searched for a convenient open Hellmouth. Failing that, anything that was big enough to swallow him whole would do fine right now. 
The vampire strolled nonchalantly over to the debris, stirring the shattered pieces with the toe of his boot then bent down. After tucking Xander's axe underneath his duster, Spike straightened, one hand was delicately grasped around his souvenir. Blue eyes twinkling with mirth, Spike returned to Xander his voice was laced with humor as he said. " We'll take this one with us, I'm pretty sure these are a protected species. Maybe we can flog it off to some collector." 
Xander closed his eyes to avoid the view. Spike's treasure of the neck and head of a flourescent pink decapitated flamingo-- was just too much. "Shut up, will you?" the mortal groaned. "Just. Shut. Up." 
******* 
{{Should 'ave kept me bleedin' gob shut!}} Came the furious thought. Spike scowled at the dejected figure currently viewing his CD collection by the stereo set. 
But he hadn't. 
It was possible that some of his comments on the way back to his place after Xander's failure, had perhaps, just perhaps, overstepped the bounds a little. {{ I'm a fucking demon! I don't *have* any bounds.}} 
Now he had a sulking Xan-pet with no interest in anything, least of all some mind blowing sex. Which was a pity, because Xander looked absolutely delicious. 
Spike had to give the mortal credit, he really had done a knock-up job on the costume. The short sleeved under-shirt, the long pants, even the leather ankle boots, all looked hand made. But the three-quarter length dark brown leather vest with various scrapes and marks was a triumph. 
The construction work Xander had been doing lately definitely suited him. A dark tan showed off the matching silver bracelets clasped firmly round the mortals upper arms. Not to mention how the work had toned Xander's muscles, and Spike was getting hard just thinking about the effect that three day growth would have on his own skin. 
{{Bloody Hell!! I'm *not* lettin' all that effort go to waste.}} 
Striding across the room, he peered at the CD's Xander was half-heartedly flicking through and realised he'd arrived just in time. Chip or no chip, the boy would have been nothing but rendered tissue if he'd put on any of that country and western crap. 
{{Oi!! I don't *have* any country and western CD's!!!}} 
Firmly resolved to ditch them as soon as his nummy left the next morning, Spike set about distracting Xander from his mood. He'd start off slowly and work his way up to sex. 
" You know, if you sit there all night and brood, my dick is going to suffer from serious non-coital depression." 
The CD cracked in Xander's hand. 
{{Shit!}} 
Spike hurriedly replaced the broken disk with another before trying again. " Have you ever looked into your family tree, pet? 'Cause I'm detecting some definite broody qualities here. You know, Angelus was always a randy sod, even before 'e was turned. Do you have any relatives in Ireland?" 
{{Ha! And Peaches said I didn't know the meaning of subtle.}} 
Xander's head swivelled ever so slowly and the mortal favoured Spike with a look of disbelief. "Care to repeat that?" he asked. 
And no. Spike did not care to repeat that, because Spike could see Xander walking out the door any minute now. {{Phase three}} 
Placing a hand on Xander's leather clad shoulder, Spike said earnestly. "Don't let the tree get to you, mate. Besides, hitting flesh and bone is more important, and much more fun." 
"I've been fooling myself." 
{{Hellmouth on a stick. Where the bloody hell is his mind goin' now?}} 
Spike took it as a good sign that Xander misunderstood his confused expression. 
Xander gestured to his axe and his clothes. "This whole Viking thing is just a crock of shit. I'm not anything like them and I never will be." 
{{Fuck!! Fuck and double fuck with Slayer innards sprinkled on top.}} 
More than once Spike's words had sucked him headfirst into strife. At present, he chose not to delve too deeply into the out of control panic he was feeling at this moment. Xander was moments away from returning to same under confident, self-loathing Slayer's Pet he used to be. 
If Spike let him walk out the door in this mood, he seriously doubted that the mortal would be back. 
{{And *that* ain't happenin'.}} 
"Bullshit," he snarled. "You were doing their type of thing long before I even mentioned the Viking stuff to you." 
This earned him a doubtful glare. But that was fine, at least Spike had the boys attention. 
"Name one." 
"One what?" Spike replied, deliberately vague. 
Xander sat up straight, his eyes hard. "Name on instance when I acted like a Viking. *Before* I started listening to your insane little fantasies." 
"Dragon killing." 
"Fine." Xander was up and stalking towards the stairs in seconds. "I'm not letting you mess with my head...." 
Spike scrambled to block Xander's path before he could reach the first step. "If you'll stop and listen instead of prancing off like snotty nosed nancy boy, I'll bleedin' well tell you." 
{{And you're not goin' even if you want to}} 
After a brief hesitation, Xander wheeled round and plonked himself on the bed, arms folded. "I'm listening. Although, I think you've been eating those mushrooms again. *I've* never heard of any dragon slaying Vikings. Besides, wasn't St George English?" 
Spike decided to pay a visit to the teaching department of the closest school as soon as possible. He'd be doing the youth of this town a service. "What *do* they teach you at school these days?" he asked, shaking his head. "St George wasn't English, he was a Turk and ...this has nothing to do with St George. SO WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET MET GET TO THE BLOODY POINT?" 
Xander nodded, reluctantly. 
Struggling to control his annoyance -- by fervently reminding himself of the rewards. Spike continued. "Norse legends are rather long and boring, so I'll keep this short. There was this bloke called Sigurd, killed a dragon. So, as far as historical legend goes, Vikings have killed dragons. Okay?" 
"Why?" 
"Why what?" 
"Why did he kill the dragon?" Xander asked, his curiosity roused. 
{{The things I do to get a shag these days}} 
"Sigurd's grandfather had stolen it off a dwarf. Sigurd's father and uncle killed the bloke to get the gold, but the uncle turned into a dragon and kept it," Spike sneeked a glance and saw he had Xander's confused interest. 
"So, the boy was sent to go steal it back from his uncle. Sigurd tried everything but couldn't kill the tosser, even broke a sword doing it. Then 'e gets a brilliant idea. Sneaks under the dragon when its not lookin', and stabs the bastard right in the guts. End of dragon. Happy now?" 
"So he killed the dragon and took the gold back to his Dad. A hero. I bet his Dad was pleased, big reward?" Xander was bright eyed at the thought. 
"Bigger than you think, pet" Spike replied with a wide grin. " Seems the old man was a greedy sod and wasn't goin' ta share. Sigurd kills his Dad and keeps all the gold for himself." 
"Oh." Xander's cresfallen expression indicated he didn't know how to take that last bit. 
Face scrunched up in thought, he stared up Spike. "Soooo, let me get this straight. My point of reference, is a guy who killed his Uncle *and* his Dad, to steal the gold. As a matter of fact, my Viking guy comes from a long line of greedy homicidal maniacs?" 
Spike could see nothing wrong with that pedigree. {{Obviously you and I still 'ave a lot of work to do.}} He sniffed in disgust. 
"The dragon, pet," he admonished. "Don't forget the dragon." 
Xander rolled his eyes. "How could I forget the dragon, when I've never even seen a dragon?" Sarcasm dripping from every word, Xander dropped to the floor and started peering under the bed. "Let me look, maybe he's hiding. Heeere Puff. Where are you Puff?" 
Reacting without thought, Spike attempted a well deserved clip behind the ears. He crashed to the ground blinded by pain, wishing death and a slow dismemberment on every man, woman and child wearing khaki. 
Then sank blissfully into unconsciousness. 

Xander equated the sense of guilt he was feeling at the moment to like that of when Cordelia had caught Willow and him kissing. Then felt guilty about the fact he hadn't felt that guilty when he was cheating on Anya with Spike. 
He sighed. {{I wonder if I can volunteer for Buffy's psych class? Free therapy offset by the Gang realising that I'm a raving loony?}} 
After Spike's collapse, he'd hauled the vampire up on to the bed making him as comfortable as possible. Xander also briefly debated if he should run while he still could, but nixed that idea almost as soon as it formed. 
Now he sat beside the vampire, staring down at the still form and used the time to his own advantage. Opportunities to view Spike in repose were few and far between. 
Once again he was struck by just how beautiful Spike was. Features like cut glass, so sharp and defined. Even in sleep, the vampire still seemed two feet taller than he actually was. 
Xander's gaze drifted to the coat which covered the package he was so admiring. "Let's get you out of this," he said to his non responsive bed mate. 
When the coat was gone, the boots were next. He held one up, examining it closely. Funny how certain things reminded you of someone. Black dusters and Docs were always intimately linked to Spike. 
Hands automatically reached for the belt buckle which was when he hesitated. Even though he wasn't going to remove the pants it seemed wrong somehow to take advantage of the situation. 
The inner debate lasted for some time before Xander finally gave in. 
"It's about time," came the growl. 
"Aaahhhh," Xander fell back on his ass in surprise, and found Spike staring at him through half closed lids. 
The guilt came rushing back. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. 
Spike responded with a small twisted smile. "Show me." 
Xander felt his body respond, returning the smile with one of his own. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You've just been through a great trauma...." 
The underground space echoed with the sound of a feral snarl. 
"But if you put it that way," he quickly added. 
Xander moved forward, settled himself beside his lover and leaned over for the kiss. This one was unlike the others they had shared. This kiss was not driven by out of control desire, anger or adrenaline. 
In this kiss, Xander said he was sorry, and Spike said that it was okay. Soft and slow, it showed they knew one another and what pleased each other. It showed a hell of a lot more than that. 
When they broke apart, Xander found the bed linen suddenly facinating. They'd both said something in that kiss. Something they couldn't put into words. 
His confusion came from the fact that he was uncertain if his words and Spike's would be the same. 
Xander snuggled down next to the black clad form, sans boots, which he found kinda funny. {{With his boots off Spike looks less - I am the meanest vampire around- and more- I'm just a normal demon spending quality time with my lover.}} Xander grinned. {{Any minute now I'm gonna go all gushy}} 
"What are you smiling at?" 
{{Ooops. Busted}} 
"Nothing." 
Spike snorted and Xander felt the air move around his ear. It was nice. Intimate, and damned sexy. His hands started to undo the leather vest. 
"Leave it," Spike ordered, turning his head and began to nuzzle Xander's neck. 
Which was *more* than nice. *Wonderfully* intimate, and *hotter* than hell. 
Then it all went away. 
{{What?}} 
"I'm goin' to finish telling you this Viking thing," Spike growled with determination. "And then the subject is closed. Got it?" 
Xander nodded and settled back in the vampires arms. "It's been ages since I've had a bedtime story," he replied. 
"Oh for Gods sake!" Spike moaned. "You're a five year old masquerading as an adult." 
Xander fluttered his eyelashes and grinned. Which earned him a hard kiss from Spike. 
{{Note to self: The fluttering of eyelashes is mightier than the axe. Next time ask for hot chocolate.}} 
********
Part Thirteen
"Where were we?" Spike asked. 
Xander flinched. "I was being a shit and looking for the imaginary dragon you said I killed," he supplied with some embarrassment. 
"Not imaginary, pet," Spike corrected sternly. "It was very real." 
Confusion. 
Spike responded with a heavy sigh. "High School. Graduation Day. Mayor Wilkins. Boom," keeping his words sharp and short. He wanted to make an impression. 
"Wasn't he a demon?" came the question. Closely followed by the innocent and bewildered statement of. "Buffy killed him, not me." 
"*She*," Spike failed completely in the attempt to hide his venom. "Played friggin' tag with the thing. All *she* did was open her bloody mouth and he went right after her." 
He shrugged. "Not that I blame him. I feel like rippin' her lungs out every time she opens her yappy trap as well." 
Spike had a thought, and asked playfully. "Have you ever noticed how much the Slayer looks like one of those long haired midget terrier's? Hair all over the place and making so much bloody noise your feet just itch to kick the shit out of it?" 
That was a mistake. Xander had sat up abruptly looking more pissed off by the minute. 
"If you're going to insult my friends. I'll leave." 
{{Then I'll just 'ave to kill 'em all so you can't.}} 
Hooking a finger between the under-shirt and the leather vest, Spike tugged the boy back down beside him. Knowing full well that Xander was still feeling guilty and would not offer resistance. 
He continued on with his story. 
"Look, I know Wilkins was a demon. But he was eating people, causin' chaos and destruction. If that's not the description of a bloody dragon I don't know what is." 
A tentative nod from Xander. 
At this point, Spike turned to his lover saying with vehemence. "You, organised the troops and fought the battle. *You*, got most of the ingredients for the bombs." He paused before adding. " And might I add, that was a very nifty piece of petty theft, luv. Sigurd would 'ave been proud." 
Xander was appearing a little wild around the eyes. "How do you know so much, Spike? You weren't even *here*." 
Spike curled a lip in disgust, saying. "Not my fault the Watcher doesn't lock 'is bookcase. Is it?" His eyes wondered over the vest and he began to fiddle with the fastenings. 
{{Story over. Time to shag}} 
As per usual, Xander had other idea's. 
"Giles *does* lock his bookcase," he said fiercely, slapping at Spike's hand. 
"And I'm a vampire without a soul," Spike retorted. "The stupid wanker should have known better. Look," he added, thereby temporarily halting Xander's next comment. "You asked why I thought you acted like a Viking and I've told you. I've even given you a bloody good example to follow. During graduation day, you were smack bang in the middle of it, chopping to pieces anything that got in your way. I also know, that you snuck back in after the Watcher rigged up the bomb and added your own little surprise." 
"Oh, shit!" Xander exclaimed. His guilty expression a confirmation of Spike's comment. "Giles knew about that?" he asked nervously. 
"Well, pet." Spike gloated at the mortal. "*He* sure as hell didn't remember adding the napalm." 
Xander managed to look a little shamefaced. "Ooops." 
Returning to Xander's side, Spike reached out, gently holding the stubble covered chin and said. "So, you were and have always been a Viking, Xander Harris." He chuckled, "Or should I say, Sigurd?" 
Brown eyes twinkled back with restrained amusement. "Is your Viking a thieving, dragon killing guy, who fights like a maniac against the bad guys?" 
Spike nodded vigorously, knowing full well it was *his* version of the bad guys and not Xander's that he was agreeing to. 
Xander shrugged, happy with the explanation. "Cool." 

While Spike allowed Xander to make himself comfortable, he inhaled. Identified the sweet smell of leather and sweat, then pushed them to the background to savour the pure 'Xander'. 
Of life and sunshine. Of loyalty that he himself secretly admired yet scoffed at openly. An inner strength that had been so carefully hidden, Spike still marvelled he was privileged to see it. A world so far removed from his own. 
Memory of mortal life had been discarded long ago, gleefully. 
Compared to what the vampire had once been, Xander was a rabid adventurer. As a mortal, Spike had been unfailing polite, even shy. {{What a wanker!}}. 
Hate for the Slayer still boiled beneath the surface. Like a tornado steadily building up wind speed. The situation would have spiralled out of control long ago if not for his involvement with the mortal. 
{{Even now he's protecting you. Stupid bitch! I'm still tryin' to figure out a way to kill you that won't drag 'im down with it.}} 
He refocussed to find Xander had twisted round within his arms and was gazing at him with some concern. 
"Are you all right?" 
Spike leaned forwarded, planting a kiss on a smooth forehead. 
"I'm fine. Just trying to figure out where I was before I went down the rabbit hole," he lied easily. 
Xander looked like he didn't quiet believe him. Then he glanced across the room and frowned. "Shit. I'm gonna have to get that CD again, it was one of my favourites. You'd like it, Spike," Xander said cheerfully. "It's even got a Viking song on it. I'll play it to you when I buy the new one." 
Spike banged his own head backwards into the soft pillows, repeatedly. {{I love him, but some times I think I wanna kill him!!}} 
He stilled. 
{{OH}} 
{{SHIT}} 
"Spike?" 
{{FUCK!}} 
"Spike!" Xander's voice was showing signs of agitation. 
{{ Come on in, mate. Welcome to my nightmare.}} Hysterical laughter bubbled up from inside. 
{{I am so fucked. Why can't I be a normal demon? Is that too much to ask? Those poncy bastards in Hell must 'ave stuffed up. I want a full refit and a refund. Get me another demon. This one don't work any more!!}} 
Spike could feel Xander shaking him and he couldn't do a thing. 
{{Gotta do a check. Peaches- hate the arrogant prick and hopes he goes back to Hell soon. I'll even call a cab. Tick. Drusilla- my beautiful black princess. Mad as a cut snake and just as deadly. Miss her so much. Tick. Slayer- gut her like a new born lamb and put her over a slow burning fire. Roast her for days. Tick}} 
Relief. 
{{Xander-}} he opened his eyes to see Xander's panicked expression bloom into a worried, wobbly smile. {{Want him. My lovely boy. My wild Viking. Knows what I am and how this could end and still he's not afraid. Not letting you go. pet. NEVER letting you go. Tick}} 
The slow purr from the demon within, sealed it. But Spike needed, as always, to make it tangible, indelible. 

Xander gasped as Spike seemed to come alive underneath him. In one fluid blur the vampire sat up and brought him close. Crushing him against Spike's chest. 
There was a low rumbling growly purr. 
{{Haven't heard that one before!}} 
Then came the kiss. Fierce, hard, and totally possessive. Like Spike was branding him forever. This was bad, this was good. 
This was perfect. 
Xander returned the kiss with all the fervour he could muster. Buffy could have knocked down the front steel door, he wouldn't have heard a thing. 
Clothing just disappeared. {{Magic}} 
He jerked his hips up, Spike pushed down, they smacked together with the force. Twin gasps as they tangled themselves around one another. 
Xander heard a harsh moan from above as he hooked his legs around Spike's waist. Looked up to see golden eyes lock with his own. Swam in them and would have happily drowned. 
Lube coated fingers entered, he pushed against them knowing they weren't enough. Would never be enough with Spike. 
Xander was trembling now, like a puppet with all the wires tangled up. Spike wasn't pulling the strings, neither was Xander. They were *both* at the controls. 
Finger's gone and that was great, because he knew what was coming next. 
{{Heh, heh. Bad Xanderrrrr...}} 
Spike slid home in one smooth move. Xander could feel the vampires coarse pubic hair brushing against his ass. Spike had buried himself inside to the hilt. 
{{I was wrong. *This* is perfect}} 
If Xander could freeze time, this would be were he wanted to stay. 
The swollen hard length of Spike driving into him. Bodies slick with sweat as they kissed and tasted each other. Pliant and taunt, hard and soft. 
Completion in sight, sought after yet somehow sad as it would signify the end to perfection. 
Struck by an idea. Xander ran his tongue up the one of Spike's arms, followed it by scaping the soft inner skin of the forearm with his stubble. 
The sound from Spike was not human in any shape or form. 
Xander then laved a nipple, sucking it to hard nub and again used the stubble, much harder than he had previously. 
Spike threw back his head and howled. Cool essence flooded into him and Xander toppled over the edge when Spike's hand grabbed his cock and pumped. A human scream chased the vampire howl. 
{{Perfection}} 

Under the covers, their bodies still covered with the sticky remnants of sex, Xander rested his head on the vampires chest, deep in thought. 
Is this what is was like? Finding that one person who knew you better than you knew yourself? Who could drive you crazy mad one minute and crazy in love the next? 
{{Move over Buff. Ya got company coming. That little exclusive group you're in just got a new member.}} 
Xander was too far in to get out, if someone had given him a ladder he would have looked at it dumbly. The skin on his cheek tingled, curtesy of the vibrations received from a purring vampire. 
And he was afraid. 
{{I can't choose. Please God or Odin, who ever is listing. Please. Don't make me choose. Don't make it a choice between Spike or my friends. I can't do it any more}} 
But he could. That's what terrified him. He would not let Spike harm or kill the people who were his family. Xander's true family. 
Xander shut his eyes and allowed Spike's purr to lull him into sleep. He didn't have to choose today, and with luck, he wouldn't have to choose tomorrow. 
For now, that would have to do.
********

Part Fourteen

It was the absence of warmth which roused him from sleep. Spike began to silently congratulate himself on how this plan had worked out. Okay, so he'd fallen for the whelp but he was pretty certain it was a two way street. 
A simple shag had spiralled into something more than he had ever wanted but the rewards were worth it. 
Even with his eyes closed, Spike could detect Xander's presence. His inner clock told him that it was early morning, which meant the mortal would be leaving soon. 
He stretched languidly, heard a heartbeat increase and hid a smile. Something fluttered and scraped across his chest, then another, and another. Spike cracked open an eyelid, viewed his surrounding's and was bolt upright in a instant. 
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" 
Xander had been sitting with legs crossed, naked, at the end of the bed. He peered up from his work, eyes widening when he saw the mess. "Ah, wood carving?" came the nervous confession. 
The whole bed was covered with little scraps of wood shavings. 
Spike's eyes were drawn to the axe in Xander's hands. The faint outline of numerous carved symbols were gradually taking form on the shaft. 
Xander wordlessly offered the axe for further examination. Spike studied it from a variety of angels, turning it over and over in his hands. When this was finished it would be a work of art, of that he had no doubt. 
"It's beautiful," he murmured in appreciation. Xander's face lit up with a smile. 
"You think so?" 
"I know so," Spike replied with finality. Handing the axe back to its owner, he said, "I didn't know you could do stuff like that, mate. Your bloody good." 
More than a little embarrassed, Xander just shrugged and chuckled softly. "Who do you think carves all of Buffy's stakes? Its not like she can go down and pick up a two for one deal at the local mall you know." 
That was a subject Spike preferred not to think about. As he brushed away the shavings, his hand met something more solid, it rattled. Pushing aside the bed linen, he found a small leather pouch about the size of his hand, holding it up high he said dryly. "Dare I ask what the hell's in this?" 
Xander appeared delighted. "Thanks, I wondered where that had gone to," and reached out to take the pouch from Spike. Who leaned back ensuring that the mysterious parcel remained just out of reach. 
"Tell the Big Bad what's inside, luv." Spike teased 
Xander resigned himself to the fact that he would be unable to wrest the prize from the vampire, shrugged and slid off the bed. "It's no biggie, just some rune stones I picked up the other day. You can have a look while I go tidy up. Actually, its really funny how I got them. Do you want to hear about it?" 
Spike, concentrating on undoing the pouch, replied absently. "Sure, mate. Always interested." 
While Xander meandered around the room, picking up various pieces of clothing here and there, he kept up a steady chatter. Spike responded appropriately in the right places with the usual, "Aha, hmmm," and the never to be underestimated, " That's nice, pet." 
{{Who tied this thing? Godzilla?"}} 
After a surreptitious glance to ensure he wouldn't be caught, Spike went into full game face and began tugging at the strings with his teeth. 
Nothing. Nada. In fact, the drawstrings seemed tighter than ever. 
A snarl of frustration caught Xander's attention. "Give me that," he yelled, snatching the pouch out of Spike's hand. 
"I can't get it open. It's broken," came the whine. 
"It is *not* broken. There's nothing wrong with it, even I can open the pouch," Xander scolded the vampire like a child, then proceeded to untie the strings in four seconds flat." See?" 
"I don't know what's the matter with you," Xander complained, dropping the open pouch on the bed. While looking for a missing boot, he moaned. "First you go all weird last night and look like someone staked you, and now you're growling at a little bag. You are seriously deranged." 
Spike moved a hand towards the pouch, then hesitated. "Where did you say you found this?" he asked. 
Having found the boot, Xander placed it next to the rest of his clothes, flopped back onto the bed, his feet in the air and proceeded to get dressed. "You weren't listening at all. Were you?" he accused hotly. 
{{Got me there}} 
"Of course I was," Spike lied. "But tell me again, I think I missed something." 
The heavy sigh from Xander said it all. 
"I was coming home from work two days ago when that big thunderstorm struck." 
{{It hasn't rained a drop in weeks!}} 
"Saw that new hardware/general store, ducked inside to get out of the storm. Thought I'd use the opportunity to pick up stuff to make the costume," came explanation, accompanied by a pointed stare. "Ringing any bells?" 
Spike shook his head. He silently pleaded for forgiveness, Xander's scowl still said he had a lot of work to do. 
Pants on, Xander started wiggling into the under-shirt. "Anyway, the store assistant or owner, was really helpful. Knew heaps of stuff about Vikings, even offered suggestions on how to make the costume and everything." 
Tousled hair emerged from the depths of the shirt. Xander struggled as he pulled on the boots and concluded his little story. "So, he says they get stuff from deceased Estate's and that he had just the thing to complete the outfit." 
"He sold you this?" Spike didn't like it. Didn't like this at all. He shook his head. {{I'm just bein' paranoid}} 
Up off the bed now, Xander walked over to the CD's to make sure he hadn't broken any others last night. He picked up the flamingo head on the way and rested it on top of the T.V. "Nyah, threw it in for free on account of all the gear I'd bought." 
{{I was imagining things}} Spike's hand settled on the pouch. 
"Or on account he's into construction like me," Xander's voice drifted across the room. 
Spike froze. Eye's still fixed on the pouch, he asked casually. "How do you know he's into construction? Did he come with his very own hard hat?" 
"Ha, ha. Noooo," Xander's tone clearly indicated he was talking to someone mentally incompetent. "I know he's into construction because of the big sledgehammer he was carrying when I walked into the store. Must have a second job or something." 
Spike backpedalled across the bed so fast he tore the sheets, uttering a startled yelp when his back hit something solid. After suffering a severe case of whiplash, he blinked warily up at Xander, who was looking at him as if the mortal thought Spike had finally lost his mind. 
Leaning over, Xander picked up the pouch, stopped and stared when Spike shouted a warning. Shaking his head in confusion, the mortal commented. "Man. You are acting so whacko this morning." 
Spike was unable to take his gaze away from the pouch of rune stones as Xander stuffed them into a pocket. He remained scrunched up on the bed, even after Xander kissed him good bye and left. 
{{I'm being paranoid. I'm imagining things. Its just a coincidence}} Spike almost had himself convinced, then he had one final thought. 
{{Where are you?}} 
The answer sent him diving out of bed, hand shaking as he grabbed and drained half a bottle of JD. As the alcohol burned his oesophagus, Spike began talking to the flamingo as he banged his head up against the wall repeatedly and wailed. 
"Just once..." Bang. 
" I'd like a plan..." Bang. 
" ...to work out..." Bang. 
" ...without any fuckin' *complications*!!" BANG. BANG. BANG. 
****************

THE END.