After

by Kylia

Xander sat on the swings and watched as his feet scraped against the dirt. Looking at his watch, he sighed. It was only three-thirty. He still had several more hours before it would be dark enough for Spike to be free to leave the basement. Xander had no desire to go home and deal with the vampire. He was feeling more depressed than he had the previous night, if that was even possible. 

He had gone into work that morning, only to discover he had been fired, or laid off, or some other word which translated to he was "too useless to keep a lame job driving an ice cream truck". It didn't really matter. He knew it was only a matter of time before he lost this job, just like all the others. Especially after that embarrassing moment a few weeks ago with Anya and her ridiculous notions about the quantity of their sex life. The girl was beginning to tire him out. Not physically, but emotionally. And at this moment, he didn't have any emotions to spare.

So this was how he found himself sitting on the swings at the park, in the middle of the afternoon. He knew Spike would be at his house, and he knew that one of two things would happen if he showed up there before dusk. Either Spike would mock him for being weak, or he would take great pleasure in reminding Xander why he was upset in the first place. Neither option sounded like fun, so he waited.

As he sat alone in the park, Xander let his mind wander back to his life, or lack there of. Despite the way he had found himself comforted the night before, Xander didn't feel any better. In fact, he now felt worse. It was like a reminder of something he would never have. Not that he needed one. His very existence was reminder enough.

He also realized that he should be more upset by what had happened. He should feel ashamed that he had not only found some small measure of comfort in the arms of another man, but that that man was Spike, and he wasn't even a man, well not in the living sense of the word.

However, what he felt was not shame, but sorrow and anger. He was saddened that he had allowed himself such weakness in front of Spike, and that he wanted to go home and do it all over again. He was also angry that he had such feelings. Not because he was a guy, or even because he was a vampire, but because he was Spike, and would only use the lapse in his judgement to cause him more anguish.

So lost in his internal thoughts, Xander failed to notice when the swing next to him was taken up. It wasn't until he saw another pair of shoes scraping along the dirt, that he realized he wasn't alone any longer.

***** 

Spike rolled over in the empty bed, trying to return to sleep. However, it would not come. He knew, without looking at the clock that it was still a few hours before sunset. So, he was stuck in the boy's basement, pondering what had come over him the previous evening.

What had made him climb into bed with Xander? What had driven him to pull the distressed youth into his arms and soothe his tears? What was making it increasingly difficult to sleep now that he was alone?

Spike didn't have the answer to that. Quite honestly he wasn't even sure he knew the question. What he did know was that he could count the members of the Scooby gang that he could tolerate on two fingers. They were the most useful members of the group, and ironically the most ignored.

There was something about the redheaded witch. She never judged him, despite the fact that he had persistently tried to kill her. She still made an effort to include him in things, and unlike the others, she wasn't completely oblivious to Xander's pain.

Spike had noticed the old friends had grown distanced recently. He blamed that on the demon girl. She irritated Willow, not that Spike could blame her. Anya seemed to rub everyone the wrong way, and he himself was not immune. She was the real reason he had left and moved into that crypt. It was to get away from Anya and her constant demands on Xander. He couldn't sit in that chair and listen to them shagging not three feet away. Listen to Anya's persistent demands that they go again, despite the fact that she was getting more out of their sessions than Xander was.

Spike jumped out of bed, growling to himself at the strange place his mind had taken him to, again. He pulled on his jeans and angrily opened the small refrigerator to heat some breakfast. His frustration was growing, but he wasn't sure what was bothering him more. The fact that he still had his chip, and no longer had any hope of having it removed any time soon, or the increasing amount of time he was spending things about the mortal boy whose bed he had shared the previous night.

After draining the blood packet dry, Spike sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots. Just as he finished lacing them, he heard a knock at the door. He hesitated for just a second, wondering who would be at the side door, which lead to the side of the house. The only people who ever came to visit were the witch and the demon girl. Groaning he stood up and made his way to the door, hoping that it wasn't Anya. He was irritated enough without adding her special brand of conversation.

Spike opened the door halfway, glad not for the first time that there was an overhang which covered the makeshift porch.

"What?" Spike snapped at the stranger who was standing there, looking somewhat confused.

"Does Alexander Harris live here?" The girl asked hesitantly.

Spike looked her over carefully. She appeared to be Xander's age, although he didn't recall seeing her anywhere near the youth, not that he had had occasion to see Xander away from the Scooby gang, except for a couple of times at the Bronze.

"Sir?" The girl asked timidly. She was clearly unsure if she had come to the right place.

Spike quirked an eyebrow. "What?" He asked, although this time not as harshly.

"Is Xander here? Does he... does he live here?"

"He isn't home yet." Spike watched as the girl tried to figure out Xander's relationship to him.

"Do you live here... with him?" 

Spike smirked. He couldn't resist playing with the chit's mind. It was too easy. "Yeah, we live... together." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaving no doubt in her mind what kind of relationship the blonde had with Xander.

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she regained her composure. She thrust an envelope into the vampires hands. "Here. He... he left this." She turned to leave and then stopped. "Tell him I'm sorry." She turned and ran out into the sunlight, leaving Spike to wonder what she was on about.

Spike closed the door and stared down at the envelope. It was a plane white one and the flap had only been folded down and not sealed. Without a thought to the boy's privacy, Spike opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. There were several green bills, encased in a sheet of paper. On the outside of the paper, in large bold letters were the words, "severance pay".

Spike sat down on the bed with a needless sigh. Xander had lost another job. He felt oddly bad for him, which he immediately cursed himself for his thoughts. He was evil. What did he care if the moron lost is stupid job? Not wanted to think about the answer to that question, Spike finished dressing and dug out a cigarette, paying more attention than was necessary pulling on his duster.

It wasn't until he felt the smoke swirling around in his dead lungs that Spike realized that Xander wasn't home. Sure, he had noticed it before, how could he not? But before, he had believed he was at work, now apparently, that wasn't the case. So, where was he?

With a small amount of resignation, Spike realized why Xander hadn't come home. He didn't want to face him. He was embarrassed about that had happened the previous night. Maybe even angry. He didn't want to remember that he had found comfort in the arms of a killer, and that's all Spike was to him. So, instead of coming home, the boy had chosen to spend the afternoon, most likely with the stuffy watcher, in the hope that by the time he made it home, Spike would be gone.

"Fine!" Spike growled to himself. He didn't want to see him? He would go. Spike turned to cast a glance at the clock. He smiled dejectedly as he realized the sun would be down in a couple of minutes.

Without taking the time to weigh his decision, Spike picked up the phone and dialed a number Xander had unfortunately had programmed into the phone. After several rings, someone picked up the phone.

"Hello?" A voice sounded through the wire.

"Hello."

"Spike?" The voice was incredulous. "What do you want?"

"I need... I want... I'm coming there." He settled for the more manly announcement as opposed to the pleading request.

There was silence for a long minute before the voice spoke again. "I'll see you when you get here." A pause. "Do you know where I live?"

"Yes." He hesitated, not sure of what he should say, finally settling on what Xander or Willow would have said. "Thank you." He didn't wait for a response as he hung up the phone.

Taking one last look around the basement, Spike left, wondering if he would be back. Wondering why he cared.

**** 

Xander trudged through the darkened streets on his way back home. He kept thinking about what had happened in the park. Willow had found him swinging sadly on the swings, and instead of demanding to know what was wrong, she joined him. They sat there in silence for close to an hour. It was the most comfortable the two had been around each other since before the 'clothes fluke'.

Eventually they had spoken. Xander had told her about the parts of his dream that he had spoken about before. Well, not all of the parts, but the ones he felt comfortable in sharing. He told her about how he had been feeling recently. About how isolated and alone he'd been this year, and finally about how he had woken up from a nightmare, in the arms of a neutered vampire.

Willow had listened quietly until he had finished everything he wanted to say. She then hugged him close to her and apologized for the lousy friend she had been of late. She tried to get him to believe that he wasn't alone and that his parents didn't deserve him. Surprisingly, she wasn't the least bit shocked by the person who had offered him comfort in the middle of the night. She wasn't appalled, or frightened, or disgusted. She actually seemed happy that someone had been there to offer such comforting arms, when he had needed it. She hadn't pressed him about feelings they both knew he wasn't ready to deal with just yet.

Willow had gone on to tell him what had brought her out to the park that afternoon. She had broken up with her girlfriend, and it wasn't pretty. She didn't want to hurt Tara, but after analyzing her own dream, Willow realized, that although she was bisexual, her relationship with the other witch had been more about needing to feel wanted and loved, and it had about any true romantic feelings. Tara had been hurt and angry. She had lashed out, telling Willow about how useless she was to Buffy, reminiscent of a conversation both she and Xander had had with Spike not too long ago.

Willow recognized the truth in Tara's words, just as she had when Spike had spoken them. So, she had come to the park, in hopes of finding the answers she was seeking.

Xander was glad they had run into one another. He had missed his friend, more than even he had realized. Her quiet acceptance of everything he said, as well as of the things he didn't say, made him realize that he was behaving like a child, hiding out in the park until Spike left. What was he afraid of anyway? It wasn't like anything had happened, or that he had wanted anything to happen.

Confident in his denial, Xander entered his basement. He knew immediately Spike had gone, and couldn't help but feel disappointed. Although he wasn't completely sure why. T hat was why he had stayed away so long, to give Spike a chance to leave. But now that he had, why did he feel so very alone?

Sitting on his bed, Xander noticed the white envelope that was sitting on the makeshift coffee table. He knew, before he even picked it up what it was. Sighing heavily, Xander pulled the money out, remembering that he was an unemployed, useless loser once again.

Xander flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It didn't hold the same interest it had before. Not with memories of Spike lying next to him in the bed, asking him what they were watching. At the time he didn't find that funny, but now, he smiled sadly at the humor. As he stared at the white expanse above him, Xander tried to block out the safety he had felt in Spike's arms, however that was proving to be a tad difficult, since he could still smell the unmistakable scent of tobacco and leather covering the room.

Closing his eyes tightly, Xander willed his body into slumber, sinking into sweet oblivion, for just a little while.

****

TBC