Two's Company
This story is a direct sequel to one of my other stories, called Divided. If you haven't yet, I would recommend that you read that first.
Part 1
It had been nearly a week since Toth's stick had worked its personality splitting mojo and Spike's stupid human side had developed a tiny, insignificant crush on Xander. A *crush* nothing more. Sure his human side had thought he was in love - but that was crap. William had always been a hopeless romantic; it was natural he'd gotten carried away. However, all that was over with now, he was back to his old self, i.e. evil, sarcastic and sexy. In other words; cool, and he did not, repeat - did *not* have a crush on Xander Harris. William was so wet he'd get soppy over anyone that gave him the time of day, but Spike was a regular heterosexual demon of the night, he liked his blood warm, and his women sizzling. Sure occasionally he'd entertained an idle fantasy about shagging a guy - being an evil, soulless fiend did allow for a certain sexual elasticity after all - but it was always some confident, seductive creature of evil being bent to Spike's will. It was a *long* way from that to panting after the Slayer's comic relief. Fancying Droopy-Boy was not just impossible, it was naff. As for that dream he'd had a couple of nights ago about kissing Xander - that was nothing. *Everyone* had weird dreams now and then, in fact it had been a nightmare! Yes! Definitely a nightmare. He. Did. Not. Want. Xander.
Spike lit up another cigarette as he stared at the lighted window of Xander's apartment.
So why was he here again?
Maybe he just needed to see him, to just test his feelings. Yeah that was it. He'd been avoiding Xander like the plague since that dream and as a result it was never off his mind. What he needed to do was face his nightmare full on and then he'd be fine. It was like falling off a horse, you had to get straight back on, because the longer you didn't ride, the harder it was ... That analogy was heading into a weird place.
Spike inhaled deeply, and tried to push all the confused images of Xander and riding and hardness out of his head as he waited, trying to ignore what felt suspiciously like nerves churning in his stomach.
***
Xander bounded out of his apartment, a smile on his lips. Goofy maybe, but he couldn't help a thrill of excitement everytime he thought of his new apartment. Life was feeling pretty good right now. He was finally working at a job that he enjoyed, that he was actually good at, and now the weekend stretched enticingly before him, kicking off with tonight at the Bronze. He glanced down at himself a little nervously. It was obvious by the stunning collection of shirts in his wardrobe that he'd never taken much of an interest in the less Hawaiian side of fashion, but tonight he'd made the ultimate sacrifice and put aside his love of the colourful print. He was now wearing pants and a shirt somewhat darker, sleeker and tighter than usual. He just hoped Anya would like it. He'd also spent a while grooming in front of the mirror before coming out, and looked - well - the last time he'd made this much of an effort it had been his and Anya's three-month anniversary, and he'd planned to take her out to dinner. They'd never made it to the restaurant. Hopefully his efforts would start them off on the right foot tonight.
He turned in the direction of the Bronze, but before he'd gone two steps, he paused. Facing death every other day had helped him develop an acute sixth sense, and the pricking at his neck told him he was being watched. He turned, catching a flash of white blond hair and black leather out of the corner of his eye.
//Oh no, not tonight// Xander thought in exasperation. He'd been enjoying the 'Spike-lite' quality of his life the past couple of days. When Spike had been put back together after the 'Toth splitting him in two' episode, he had snapped immediately back from shy, gentle William into the irritating asshole everyone loved to hate. Still at least Spike's obnoxiousness had swiftly and efficiently knocked on the head the slight feelings Xander had of actually liking the guy. It had been seriously disturbing when he'd momentarily found himself touched by human Spike's vulnerability and *niceness*. However taking back his familiar and comfortable position of chief slogan writer in the 'Stake Spike Now!' campaign wasn't enough to make him put up with *another* round of cutting insults, designed to take the shine off his night. //My sanity, my choice. Stake Spike Now!' If only.//
He turned to the deep shadows without even trying to suppress his irritated sigh.
"Spike."
Nothing.
"Spike I know you're there, your hair is one of the few things on Earth that can be seen from space, you may want to consider an image change if you want that undercover agent job. Get out here."
Spike stepped out from the shadows. Xander raised his eyebrows and folded his arms expectantly, but Spike actually seemed stuck for words. His eyes flickered over him in his new clothes before coming back to rest on his face, staring at Xander with a strange expression that Xander couldn't read, but for a brief, poignant moment reminded him of human Spike. Xander frowned and shook off the odd pang the memory sent through him. Human Spike was gone. What they had now was the regular, undiluted pain-in-the-ass version.
Spike cleared his throat. "Uh ... um ... hi."
"It figures," Xander said, unamused. "It's been two whole days, what are you having withdrawal symptoms from not insulting me?"
"Well it's so easy to do Harris." But the insult was said without it's usual edge. Spike certainly wasn't operating on full power tonight; in fact he had a slightly glazed look about him. Xander wondered if he was drunk.
"What are you doing here?"
"Nothing - just uh ..." Spike's eyes darted around him as though searching for inspiration. "What are *you* doing here?"
"I live here!"
"Oh. Yeah. So uh ..." Spike shifted - if Xander didn't know better he'd say Spike seemed almost uncomfortable. "How's the new place?"
Xander stared at him incredulously. What the hell was Spike playing at? "None of your business, and you don't have an invite so don't even think of trying to break in to steal my stuff."
Spike's eyes flashed and he seemed to snap out of his daze as he snorted derisively. "Yeah, as if I'd want any of your crap, I have better taste."
"I have good taste!" Xander snapped, pushing the image of himself singing along to the Backstreet Boys only moments ago firmly to the back of his mind.
Spike raised his eyebrow in an effortless sneer, and Xander immediately obliged him by feeling inadequate. It must have been the years of training of being laughed at in High School that had developed this Pavlovian response.
"You forget mate," Spike drawled. "I had to put up with your taste when I had to stay in that Hellhole basement you used to call home. Been there, seen it, still got the mental scars."
"This from the guy that lives in a crypt and cries if he misses 'Passions'?"
"That episode was the finale of an important plotline!"
Xander rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Whatever, I don't have time for this, I've got friends waiting for me - you know Spike, *friends* the things I have and you don't? Not to mention a girlfriend who's gonna flay me alive if I'm not there on time." He turned away irritably, eager to cut this short and not-so-sweet encounter a little shorter.
"Oh yeah, now *she's* a good example," Spike snapped after him. "You think now you can afford to kit yourself out in clothes that *don't* come from the Salvation Army, you got taste? It goes deeper than that Harris, if you want to talk about bad taste, try looking at your girlfriend!"
Xander's vague irritation morphed into serious anger. He turned back to Spike, taking a step closer to him, his jaw set. "One more remark like that Spike," he said in a low voice, "and chip or no chip I *will* kick your ass."
For a moment they stared at each other angrily, eyes locked on each other's, neither of them prepared to give way. Xander's fists clenched, when suddenly Spike dropped his eyes from his glare and stepped back. "Oh whatever Harris, didn't know I touched a nerve."
Xander's eyes narrowed. "It takes a hell of a lot more than a de-fanged vampire shooting his mouth off to get anywhere near my nerves, get the picture? I don't *care* what you think." With that, he turned and walked away, moving fast to try and burn off the energy coursing through him that he really wanted to expend by punching Spike in the face.
"Well fine!" Spike yelled after Xander's retreating back. "'Cos I don't care about you either!"
Xander favoured him with the one-fingered salute without turning back around and vanished around the corner.
"I don't care what you do." Spike muttered to himself. "Don't care what you think, or how bloody *good* you smell!" He roared the last words out in frustration, throwing his smoke on the ground, grinding it to a pulp under his boot. //God damnit! Bloody Hell and fuck! // He stormed away in the opposite direction to Xander, heading straight to the graveyard, where he was lucky enough to find a newly rising vampire struggling from his grave. //Oh yes// he thought, pacing by the grave, waiting for the vampire to break free, his coat snapping behind him as he stalked up and down. //That went just *perfect*!//
The vampire was still lodged in the ground from the waist down. Spike shot him a glare as he morphed into his game face, reaching down and hauling him out of the ground. "Y'know I haven't got all night!"
"Oh thanks ."
Spike punched him in the face.
"Ow!" The bewildered vampire cupped his hands over his nose. "Jeez what's your problem?" Spike grabbed him by the neck and threw him over a gravestone, launching himself in pursuit.
"What's my *problem*?" Spike repeated as the vampire rolled to his feet in a lithe movement and threw a punch at Spike. He blocked it easily, catching the vampires fist in his hand, and crushing the bones for good measure. "Xander Harris - that's what my bloody problem is! What the hell is going on? Why did he have to pick *tonight* to look good enough to eat?"
Taking advantage of his lack of concentration the whimpering vampire broke away, and began trying frantically to shake him by darting around a nearby tree, trying to keep him on the opposite side. "Hey, no worries man," he babbled fearfully. "I'll help you find this guy, you can eat him . can I share? I mean I'm pretty hungry ."
Spike nabbed him easily, slamming him against the tree trunk with slightly more viciousness than was strictly needed. "Don't you even *mention* touching Xander."
"Woah, sorry, you just said he looked good enough to eat . *oh*!" Comprehension flashed in his eyes, and he looked Spike up and down. "You mean you're ."
"No I'm *not!" Spike cut off whatever the vampire was going to say next by rhythmically banging his head against the tree trunk. "So what if I've been thinking about him? Doesn't mean I'm interested!"
"Ow!"
"So what if he's with that bitch of a girlfriend right now - I don't care!"
"Ow! No, of course you don't!"
"I'm no poofter, I can shag any bint I want!"
"Ow! Yeah, sure, any, uh, bint you want!"
Spike thought of Xander in his new clothes.
He thought about Xander *out* of his new clothes.
"Bloody Hell!" Spike ceased in his task of slamming the vampire's head against the tree. "This. Is. No. Good," he ground out. The vampire nodded his bloodied head in battered agreement, and looked warily down at Spike's hand, which was still gripping his collar.
"Hey, we've talked, we've bonded, is there any chance of you letting me go now?" he asked hopefully.
Spike frowned in thought. "No."
He flung the vampire into the air, snapped off a nearby branch and staked him on his way back down in a smooth manoeuvre that, despite his anger and confusion, he couldn't help but feel a little bit smug about.
"But thanks," he addressed the dust drifting to the ground. "I feel better."
//Okay,// he thought as he calmed down a little, letting his face slide back into its human features. //So lets say that William is still a part of me and so wet he'll obviously fancy anyone. Then there's the demon side of me that will rut with anything. Put them together and maybe there's a *tiny* possibility that - in a purely meaningless way mind - I wouldn't find the idea of say ... throwing Xander against the wall and ramming myself into him, *wholly* repulsive. Say that maybe the thought even turns me on a little.// A shiver of excitement ran through Spike, so intense he had to stop and force himself to calm down before continuing on his way. //Okay, so it turns me on more than a little. Maybe I do have an itch for him. What can I do about it?//
'Nothing' was the answer that sprung to mind. There was no way, either in this world or the world to come that Xander would scratch his .. itch. Xander hated him, and although Spike was reasonably confident in his seduction abilities with women, trying to get into a blokes pants was a whole new ball game, pun definitely intended. Xander was so straight he should be adopted as a mascot for heterosexuality. Then again up until last week Spike had been certain of his place in the straight parade, maybe in time there was a chance Xander could come around to the idea, but there was something else. The same something that had sent a pang of pure jealousy through him earlier when he'd realised who Xander was all dressed up to meet. Something that would never let him get within six feet of Xander, that would blow him apart at close range if he even tried to encroach on her territory. A very loud-mouthed, annoying something that went by the name of ...
***
"Anya!" Xander yelled above the music in the Bronze as his patience finally deserted him. "I didn't say we couldn't, I just said not now!"
"Well when Xander?" Anya retorted her voice also rising dangerously. Buffy and Riley discreetly looked away, both assuming distracted expressions as they gazed around the Bronze pretending they couldn't hear the argument, - lalala gosh were you two arguing? We never heard a thing! - "When *is* it a good time to go away?"
"Not now - I told you," Xander lowered his voice, hoping to influence her by his example. "I've just got my new place, I can't afford to take holidays now. Remember I explained how this all works - I need to put in lots of hours at the site so they'll pay me, so I can pay the rent, so they don't throw me out and I don't have to move back into The Parental Basement of Debasement."
"But when its not work it'll be your friends trying to fight something ..."
Xander felt his face burn in embarrassment and anger as Buffy studiously began to examine her fingernails. Okay so Anya was mad at him, but there was no need for her to complain about his friends - in *front* of them. He grabbed hold of her arm, recently out of the sling, and pulled her under the stairs where it was slightly more discreet, she jerked furiously away from his hand.
"Listen to me ..."
"You can't leave them they need you." Anya parroted impatiently before he could say it. They'd been having this 'discussion' a lot lately. Xander often thought they should just tape it and play it at regular intervals to save time while they got on with doing something more fun. "That's just stupid Xander, they don't *need* you! I need you more, and if you're dead ..."
"I'm not dead!"
"Not yet but you will be if you keep helping them! You've got no special powers, no slayer strength, it's not like you can be any real help to them ..." Somewhere inside Xander felt himself flinch as her words flicked a very raw, private pain, but she didn't notice as she stormed on full steam ahead. " ... and sooner or later you're going to get yourself killed and there's no point in us staying together if you're going to die and split us up anyway!"
Xander felt all the air whoosh out of him, as though he'd been punched in the stomach. "Are you saying you want to break up?"
Anya bit her lip, and Xander felt sick - and for some strange reason - angry. "Anya this is crazy! Even if I stopped helping ."
Anya opened her mouth to say something, and Xander quickly talked over her, " . or getting in the way while Buffy fights the evil, I could still easily be hurt at work one day. That came out wrong. Look, I'm not going to die - well not right now at least ..." He took a step back at the furious expression on Anya's face. "Though judging by the look on your face the odds on that are improving..."
"You think this is funny?" Anya yelled.
"No! I think this is deadly serious and that's why I want to ... " Anya turned on her heel and stormed away from him, out of the Bronze. He watched her go and finished quietly; ".work this out."
***
As dawn was breaking Spike slid into his cold bed. He tried not to do the cliched 'thinking about his crush before he went to sleep' routine, but he couldn't stop himself from tormenting himself with thoughts of what Xander was doing right now. Did he spend the night with Anya? Probably. From what he'd seen of the two of them they were usually at it like rabbits, and Anya was never backward in demanding sex from Xander. Would they even now be tangled in the sheets together, sated and happy? Or would they be doing it again?
"Hellfire!" he snarled as jealousy twisted painfully in his gut. How had this happened? How had the guy he'd long since written off as a loser, someone he wouldn't have bothered to bite a year ago, suddenly, inexplicably, become the most incredible, sexy person in the world? Was this fates way of treating his life like some big cosmic joke?! Bad enough he wasn't even a real vampire anymore, now he had to have developed a hard-on for Xander Harris! And no - he wasn't just talking metaphorically. Why him? What had he ever done that was bad? Aside from the obvious of course. Bloody Toth and his mojo - this was all his fault! No, it was worse than that - it was *William*. The sneaky little bastard had sworn to hold on to these feelings, and he had. If anything his demon just upped the intensity of them. Raw, powerful and base, it made him want with a singleminded, burning hunger, and right now, he wanted Xander. Wanted to make him plead, to see the heat in those brilliant, dark eyes when the pleasure was treading the line at pain. Wanted to make Xander feel those incredible shivers racing through him that only happened when the sex was good - really, really good.
Spike's body clenched in a helpless spasm of desire and he gave up on the idea of sleeping. He summoned up a vivid picture of Xander as he'd been tonight: sleek and citrus scented. He remembered how Xander had stepped closer, how his dark eyes had flashed, only in his imagination Spike didn't back down, he and Xander stared at each other angrily, the attraction simmering between them. He pictured himself reaching out and pulling Xander to him, kissing him desperately, hard enough to make him lip bleed, just a little. Xander kissing him back just as passionately, as his hands tore Spike's T-shirt, dragging his nails down Spike's chest, and wrenched open his jeans ...
Spike imagined the encounter ending somewhat differently to what had actually happened, as he slid his hand down to his rock hard erection.
***
Xander sighed and rolled over, as the first light of dawn broke over the sky. He'd come home from the Bronze early last night and slept restlessly. He gazed glumly at the empty space beside him in the bed. So much for a great start to the weekend. First Spike showing up, which always rubbed him up the wrong way, then *another* fight with Anya. Oh well tomorrow was another day, he'd call her later and see if she wanted to make up. Maybe she was missing him too. Maybe she was feeling as bad as he was about the fight. He had the strangest feeling that someone out there was thinking about him.
Spike woke up late in the afternoon, and his very first thought was of Xander. Not only that, he was picturing him in what could only be described as a 'diet-coke break' image, with low riding blue jeans, a sultry smile and beads of sweat glistening on his chest. //Oh great. I'm living the cliché// Spike thought irritably, instantly wiping the sappy smile off his face. //All I need now is to start listening to soppy songs that make me think of him, and giggle like the Slayer's little sis at every bloody thing he says.// Fine, he admitted he seemed to have developed a yen for Xander - here he skimmed very quickly over the memory of exactly how he'd uh ... relieved the tension last night - but he wasn't totally nuts! He could handle this in a calm, mature manner. Now all he needed to do was talk to someone calm and mature and ask what exactly that entailed. Giles maybe? He tried to imagine what Giles would say if he knew what was going on in Spike's mind; 'Spike, stay away from Xander', was the first thing that sprung to mind. Spike curled his lip. Screw calm and mature, he'd always known there was a reason why he'd never tried it.
The fact was he fancied the pants off Xander and usually when Spike fancied the pants off someone, getting *into* their pants was high on his list of Things To Do. Unfortunately he was utterly out of his depth here. He hadn't a *clue* how to go about seducing a man. Women were easy, a seductive look, some smooth chit-chat, sexual body language, but Xander ... Spike tried to picture just how fast Xander would try to pin him to the wall and threaten him with a staking - and not of the good variety - if he casually dropped his hand on Xander's knee. He estimated, allowing for some disgusted comments, it would be about fourteen seconds. Maybe twenty if Xander momentarily froze with horror. Besides; Spike cringed in embarrassment at the thought of sliding into 'flirt mode' with him. It was *Xander* and while he couldn't exactly say they were friends, they had known each other a long time. Using his usual methods would feel so weird on a guy who knew him so well. Besides, he didn't just want to shag him, although that was a *major* part of it. He wanted Xander to like him, to spend time with him, Spike wanted to ...
//Date him?// an outraged voice in his head yelled in disgust. //*Date* him?? I can't believe I've been reduced to this! It's so squeaky clean I just may throw up!//
Sad but true, and after all the fun he'd had making jibes at Angel for dating the Slayer. No doubt there was a very moral lesson to be learned here. Mock not, lest ye fall ... Or something. Still it could be worse; at least he hadn't lost all sense of reason and fallen for Buffy. Spike gave a shudder of disgust.
Still, he had a more important problem than hypothetically falling for Buffy, namely Xander and the possibility of getting into his pants. If he really wanted Xander to - he shied away from the word 'date' - *like* him, the first thing was obviously to convince Xander he wasn't such a bad bloke. Then kill Anya and possibly find some way to frame Buffy for the crime. //Yes!// cheered a voice in his head. Spike snickered, then caught himself. No! He had to be smart about this, if Xander found out he'd arranged Anya's death, he'd never get into his pants. Humans could be so *uptight*.
Spike sighed, the problems surrounding this seemed insurmountable. On the other hand Xander had really seemed to like his human side. He'd been really nice, jumping into dumpsters in order to help him and holding him tightly when Spike's shaking legs had threatened to give out. Maybe that was something he could work with. What he needed to do was hang around Xander and - he grimaced painfully - act *nice*. He wondered where Xander would be now; it was a sunny Saturday afternoon so maybe he was hanging out with his pals on the beach, which pretty much knocked Spike out of the loop unless he wanted to make a lasting final impression in Xander's mind as Spike flambé. He'd have to wait until tonight if he wanted to see Xander. Unless he was at the Magic Box, but of course he wasn't going to venture out in the afternoon sunshine on the slim chance that Xander might be there. Even if he was there, bitch Anya would probably be in tow. He'd have to be totally crazy to turn up on the faint possibility of seeing him. He'd swing by the Bronze tonight instead. Or not. Whatever, no rush. He could take it or leave it.
Spike lay for a moment, his fingers fidgeting impatiently with his sheet before leaping up to dress and grab his blanket.
***
Xander sat at a table in Magic Box, watching Willow measure out some spell ingredients while he finished filling her in on the fight she had missed the previous evening. In a violent reaction against the clothes he'd been wearing last night, which had so obviously failed to impress Anya, he was cheering himself up by wearing his most colourful (or as Anya had once called it, his most nauseating) shirt. His dark, sleek clothes were still cowering under the bed where he had kicked them in a snit last night. He was planning to go back and finish the job later.
Giles, for once, had won an argument with Anya; ("Do you want your wages to take a sudden drop or not!?") and he was working the till while Anya had been dispatched to do a stock-take in the basement. However at the moment the shop was deserted, Giles was in the back, and they could talk freely.
" ... so then she said if I wasn't going to stop helping Buffy maybe we should break up, and stormed out," Xander finished glumly.
"Ouch." Willow responded, wrinkling her nose in a way as cute as it was sympathetic.
"Yeah," Xander agreed, leaning over the table laying his head down over his folded arms. "You see, this is why I love talking to you, Will. You always remind me of Mr. Rogers; you remember my favourite teddy from when we were kids? Okay, so he was kind of ugly, and he had crooked eyes and bald patches, but one hug from that bear would always make me feel better about anything." The sides of Xander's mouth went up slightly at the memory. "That's you exactly."
Willow's brow creased in a way that suggested she didn't find the comparison particularly flattering and Xander hastily added; "Uh, but you know, without the ugly part, and your eyes and hair are in no way crooked or patch-like."
Willow gave him a reluctant smile. "Uh, thanks. I think."
"So what should I do now?"
"Stop helping Buffy or break up," she responded instantly.
"I'm fighting the urge to put together a search party for Mr. Rogers here Will. You've got to give me more than that. Come on, that massive intellect of yours is already cooking up a third option for me, right?" Xander asked, sitting up straight and using his best Willow-I-don't-understand-math-will-you-please-do-my-thinking-for-me pleading eye look.
"Xander I'm sorry, this is important stuff, and there aren't any 'options', if Anya feels.." The shop bell interrupted her as it pealed out. They both looked up to see a smoking Spike - and not in his usual nicotine addicted way - charge into the shop under a threadbare blanket.
// Oh great, because God knows I just haven't seen enough of Spike lately// Xander thought, feeling his blood pressure rise through the roof. Although he hated to admit it Spike was really getting to him lately, even more so than normal. Spike had always been able to get under his skin. He had an unerring ability to find his weak spots and mercilessly expose them, which Xander had always managed to deal with, mostly by telling himself that he didn't care what Spike thought. However when Toth had split Spike it had upset that balance because he'd met someone, that well ... he'd liked. He scowled. That had to be the most annoying thing Spike had ever done.
Spike threw his blanket off and stamped on it, putting out the tiny flames licking at it. Xander toyed briefly with branching out from 'Stake Spike Now!' into launching a 'Set Fire to Spike' campaign, but reluctantly decided it was too much of a mouthful, better to stick with his strengths. Or maybe 'Burn Spike Now!'?
Spike caught sight of him, and looked a little flustered, which Xander put down to Spike having fire perilously close to the person he loved more than anything: himself.
"Spike, don't tease me like that, seeing the flames so close, yet not setting fire to you ..." Xander shook his head sadly.
"You're here," Spike said stupidly.
Xander raised his eyebrows. "Yeah I am. Wow Spike, you are *sharp* today."
Spike made a noise that sounded almost like a giggle, before quickly having some sort of coughing fit.
"I in turn," Xander continued, "Notice that you are also here. This is a problem, but luckily the solution comes very easily with you leaving. Care to improve my day?"
"Hey," Spike said with annoyance, "I'm a paying customer."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah, apart from the fact I'm not gonna pay for anything."
"Oh and what are you planning to steal that's so damn important you're willing to risk a tan for it?"
"Hey, sometimes a bloke really needs some ..." Spike grabbed a bottle randomly off the shelf and read the label; " ... Holy Water? Shit!" He dropped the bottle as though the contents could scald him through the glass, and snatched a different jar. "Ah here it is. Essence of Toad."
Willow and Xander exchanged looks, and Xander shook his head as Spike turned to study the shelves. He began speaking to Willow in a low voice. "So about Anya, I was thinking, maybe a romantic evening would help."
"What romantic evening?" Spike asked sharply turning to look at him.
Xander frowned. "Hey this is a private conversation pal, go take your vampire hearing elsewhere." He turned back to Willow. "Wills, you're a girl, help me out, what do you think she'd like?"
Willow looked unconvinced, but gave it a go. Bless the girl. She was better than Mr. Rogers any day. "Well you could try candles ..."
"No!" Xander and Willow looked up in shock at Spike's interruption, apparently perusing the shelves was forgotten as he looked at them with an expression of horror. "You don't want candles, they're an ... uh fire hazard. Fluorescent lighting that's the way to go. Remember, safety first."
Xander ignored him. Maybe if they could ignore Spike enough he'd simply vanish, like Marcie Ross had back in High School. It was a hell of a lot easier said than done, but Xander was nothing if not a trier. "Okay candles, what else?"
"Music?"
"Yeah, Alice Cooper, Marilyn Manson - I've got some stuff you can borrow." Spike put in quickly, Xander looked up irritably at Spike, and the blond, obviously sensing he was just a drop-kick away from making a swift, undignified exit, quickly grabbed a crystal ball, holding it up to the light, ostentatiously examining it. The effect however was ruined by his quick peak at Xander to see if he was buying this. Xander glared at him, some of his too-long hair falling in his eyes. He flicked it back impatiently and took a long drink of his coke, absent-mindedly running his tongue along his lips to trace the sweet flavour.
Spike fumbled the crystal ball, and hurriedly lunged for it. The ball, enjoying its break for freedom appeared resistant to being caught, its slippery surface more than a match for Spike's vampire reflexes, it shot free again, and it took a few grabs before Spike could bring it under control.
"So what food should I have?" Xander asked Willow thoughtfully, ignoring this impromtu juggling.
"Ooh, strawberries and cream, oh and champagne!" Willow said, bouncing a little in her seat as she warmed to the idea.
"Yeah, and maybe I should sprawl naked in front of the fire with a rose between my teeth," Xander grinned waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh my God," Spike said faintly.
"Shut up," Xander replied automatically.
"You should probably stick wearing to clothes at first," Willow advised.
"Yeah, you're probably right," Xander agreed. "Plus I don't even have a fire - and central heating just doesn't have the same vibe. Okay, candles and champagne it is."
"You know what's really romantic?" Spike said wildly. "Car-chase films."
"Spike!" Xander snapped. "Shut up or I'll be forced to throw you outside and watch you do your impression of the Human Torch."
"Fine!" Spike snarled. "Go, dim the lights and eat your bloody strawberries, I don't need to listen to how you plan to get naked and grunting with your cheap bird, I might just heave, and, and I hate that shirt you wore last night and ... you need a haircut!"
With that Spike slammed out of the shop. Xander stared after him in bewilderment. "What the hell was that about?"
Willow shrugged. "I don't know, but he's forgotten his ..."
At that moment Spike burst back into the shop, looking extremely flustered and slightly singed. Under Willow and Xander's silent gaze he walked over to where his blanket was still crumpled on the floor, picked it up and draped it about himself.
Willow and Xander watched him as he walked to the door where he turned, looked at them, opened his mouth, then shook his head, and made some kind of incoherent whimper before leaving again.
***
Spike raced down the street to the nearest sewer entrance. He had important plans once he got out of the sun that couldn't wait for a moment. Namely curling up into a little ball and rocking, whimpering with humiliation. Sadly he had to admit his first try at convincing Xander he was a decent bloke didn't seem to have gone terribly well. He'd been thrown off balance just by *seeing* Xander, who hadn't even been dressed up this time, and it hadn't made a damn bit of difference to him. These feelings must be getting stronger if they could withstand the green and purple swirled monstrosity masquerading as a shirt he was wearing this afternoon. Spike covered his eyes with a groan as he remembered he'd giggled - he'd actually *giggled*.
He'd picked up Holy Water by mistake, he'd shown truly impressive clumsiness when Xander had distracted him with that sexy head toss to flick his hair out of his eyes, immediately followed by sensually licking his lips. He'd almost got hard there and then when Xander had mentioned - gulp - being naked, and he'd claimed - sexy or what - he'd wanted some Essence of Toad, then topped the whole thing off by leaving without his blanket.
// Points for lack of noticeable evil, but big penalties for the presence of unmissable stupidity// Spike thought glumly. Just to crown his shining moment he hadn't even stolen the bloody Essence of Toad. Add to that if Xander was laying on a special night for his Bitch Girlfriend then things must be going really well. Unlife really didn't seem worth living. Spike pictured himself dramatically wasting away with unrequited love, a shadowy, mysterious figure, unable to eat or sleep ...
Yup it was definitely time for curling into a ball and whimpering. Unfortunately running around under a blanket severely compromised his vision, and his important plans were delayed as he ran smack into someone.
"Ow!" they exclaimed.
"Aggh!" Spike grabbed his head in agony as the chip sizzled his brain happily. "Oh, come on!" he shouted indignantly. "That was a bloody accident!"
"Spike? What are you doing out in the afternoon?"
Able to focus again, peering from under the blanket which was begin to smoke gently, Spike saw that Dawn was standing in front of him, looking a little worried. His hackles rose, he loathed concern from people when once upon a time he'd have snapped their necks like twigs.
"None of your business that's what," he growled.
Dawn's eyes narrowed. "Fine."
She made to walk past him, heading to the Magic Box.
"Wouldn't bother going in there," Spike said, still burning with mortification and jealousy. "None of them have got time to baby-sit. Harris is planning how to romance his bird tonight. It's disgusting."
Dawn paused. "Anya?" She rolled her eyes in disgust. "What does he *see* in her?"
"I know!" Spike agreed vehemently. Dawn looked pleased at his eager agreement.
"You don't think she's pretty do you?"
Spike shook his head vigorously. "No way!"
"And she's not nice ..."
"Or fun ... She doesn't get his jokes ..."
"Xander deserves better," Dawn said with shining eyes, and it didn't take Einstein to work out who she was thinking of to take Anya's place. "He's smart and funny and really cares about people ..."
"Yeah," Spike sighed, just as dreamily, then caught himself quickly. "You know, err, if you go for that sappy crap."
They paused. Spike shifted uncomfortably under his blanket. Although Dawn didn't seem to have clicked to what his annoyance with Anya really meant - being a bastard to *everyone* did have some benefits after all - he'd really better be more discreet, or he may as well just get a huge sandwich board proclaiming 'I FANCY XANDER!' And while he was at it, he may as well get one made for Dawn as well, who he'd suspected - and had now had his suspicions confirmed - of also having a crush on Xander. Great, he now shared a fourteen-year-old girls fantasy, and as far as he could see both of them stood about the same chance with Xander. Could this *get* more embarrassing?
"Well I'm off," he said as briskly as he could as his flesh began to sizzle.
Dawn cast an unenthusiastic look at the Magic Box, and turned back to him. "Do you want to get some ice-cream with me?" she said hopefully gesturing at the ice-cream place over the road. "It's shady in there."
Spike frowned, he could think of a million and one reasons why *that* was a bad idea. If Buffy found out he'd been socialising with her sis she'd tear him a new one was right up at the top of the list, closely followed by the fact he was trying to hang on to the remaining tatters of his reputation. William The Bloody did *not* eat ice-cream with kids. Plus, his plan to be a shadowy mysterious figure wasting away with unrequited desire was waiting ...
"Oh alright then." he said grumpily. Dramatically wasting away was all well and good but a chocolate fudge sundae was a chocolate fudge sundae. They walked over. "But you're paying," Spike said as an afterthought.
***
That evening Xander looked around his apartment in satisfaction and began painstakingly lighting the candles, but leaving the light on until Anya got here. He had changed into his smart clothes from last night - they had looked so abjectly miserable, he'd decided to give them another chance, but had been nervous of looking like he'd tried too hard and compromised by not ironing them. He checked his breath nervously for the hundredth time, still minty fresh. //Yes that's it, that's what will win her over, your *breath*!//
He hoped tonight would work, Willow had looked a little dubious to begin with, and looked a whole lot more when he confessed just how much he and Anya had been disagreeing lately. He hadn't wanted to examine that dubious look, or to discuss his so-called options. //Yeah ditch my friends or ditch my girlfriend, what great options. Either way I am Xander the Betrayer. //
He felt really out of his depth here, and just wanted to put all this badness behind them. He was sure that if they had just one good night, everything would be okay again. Maybe last night Anya had been a little wrought up - maybe she hadn't meant what she'd said, and yes, he did know the meaning of clutching at straws. //Ladies and Gentlemen step up and observe Xander Harris as he submerges himself in that famous Egyptian river.//
He drew back the curtain, checking for Anya approaching. It was *exhausting* living on the edge like this, holding this relationship together was beginning to feel like holding back the tide. If only things could be ... easy. He gazed out on the empty street and sighed. He cared about Anya a *lot*, his world would be a lot lonelier without her, even if this relationship didn't feel exactly perfect. He wasn't great at putting stuff like this into words, but when he woke up in the night sometimes and watched the pattern of the shadows on the ceiling he could feel himself yearning for something. Something that wasn't there, and the absence of it made him ache inside. Sometimes he felt like it was hovering close, yet he couldn't quite see it, couldn't quite grasp it. At least if Anya was with him he could let her sleepy, soft arms wind around him comfortingly and he could imagine that this elusive missing something didn't matter.
***
Spike let the smouldering butt of his cigarette fall to the ground, as he watched the window to Xander's apartment. How pathetic that his idea of a fun time these days consisted of staring at a building or letting Dawn treat him to an ice-cream. Not that it had been a bad afternoon, she'd paid after all. Plus it was a good deal for her, she got the pleasure of his company and an ally in amicably trashing Anya, while he listened out for any little snippets of information about Xander she had. (As it turned out the only info she had was that Xander was gorgeous, kind and amazing. All of which Spike already knew.) Still it was nice to chat to another member of the Helpless Crush on Xander brigade. He was having doubts about her staying power though, by the end of the afternoon she had begun looking at him with more than a flash of interest. Spike bit back a smile. Typical teenage girl, why have a crush on one guy, when you could have two? At least she had great taste. Anyway, hanging with Dawn, while not working wonders for his pride could help his cause in convincing Xander he wasn't such a bad guy. Maybe if luck decided to make a guest appearance in his life Dawn would tell Xander they'd chatted and he'd exhibited extraordinary patience as she'd listed her ten favourite Boy Bands, and hopefully wouldn't mention his idea of tying Anya to a tree in one of Sunnydale's cemeteries and waiting to see if anyone took a bite; ("The chip shouldn't go off - it's not like I'm murdering her - I'm just ... doing a good deed for some some hungry vampire!")
Meanwhile night had fallen and yet again he was lurking outside Xander's apartment, but he wasn't going to stay for hours, that would be really pathetic. Any minute now he was heading to Willy's to have a quick drink, and find a demon to pick a fight with. Any. Minute. Now.
The curtains were drawn carelessly and through the chinks he could see the lights were on, not candles, which was good news. Spike was hoping like hell Xander had decided against the whole 'romantic evening' thing. Actually he was hoping like hell Anya had fallen under a bus on her way here and been splattered all the way up the high street, but at the moment he'd take 60 watt lighting.
He lit up another cigarette when suddenly the curtains twitched and Spike swiftly bolted back behind a bush as they parted and Xander was framed in the window looking out at the street. Spike wondered, with his heart in his mouth, if Xander could sense his presence out here, feel the strange new emotion like a fire in his heart, emanating from Spike. Peering through the leaves of the bush, secretly watching Xander Spike felt a pang of fierce yearning that almost scared him. He wondered irritably what was it about Xander that drew his gaze like a magnet. Looking at him strictly dispassionately, sure he was nice-looking, but he wasn't spectacular. His hair was untidy, the smart clothes crumpled. He wasn't particularly graceful or buffed and yet he had *something*, something that made Spike want to run his tongue over the hollow at the base of his throat, and discover the taste of his skin. It was the flashes of his eyes, his wise-cracking wit, the fact that Xander honestly didn't know just how sexy he was. It wasn't a 'hit-you-over-the-head, yes I *know* you want me' blast like Spike knew he possessed. Xander's was natural, frank, and completely unaware, even now, maybe especially now, when he looked a little tired, and oddly lonely. Spike was totally unable to tear his gaze away, and stared hungrily, storing this private moment in his memory.
//I want him// he thought helplessly. //I mean I *really* fucking want him. What the hell am I gonna do?//
Because really, all evil plots and plans aside, the truth was a secret fear lurking in his heart, that was totally at odds with the confident persona that he put out there. That there was just no way he'd stand a chance with a guy like Xander.
He gazed at him longingly, and if heat could be channelled through eyes then his must be scorching Xander right now. Suddenly his stomach lurched as, as if in response to his gaze, Xander's gaze swept the street. Almost as if he could sense Spike's gaze, almost as if he was lookig for him ...
Anya passed by him, so close he could taste her perfume. Spike only just stopped himself from jerking back in surprise, something that would have certainly alerted her to his presence. His lip curled bitterly as Xander saw her and turned away from the window, letting the curtain cover the window again - and oh *shit*. Through the chinks Spike could see the light was suddenly switched off, and a flickering, warm light revealed candles.
***
"Hey Ahn," Xander greeted her, giving her an awkward kiss on the cheek, regretfully missing the days when Anya would leap on him and have half his clothes off before he'd finished opening the door.
"Hello Xander ...oh!" She looked around at the apartment with the first genuine smile he'd seen in days. "It looks lovely. I like the candles, you look so much nicer in dim light."
"Uh ... thanks. That's what I was going for."
"Xander, I ..." Anya began stridently.
"So listen," he interrupted. "I was thinking how about just for tonight we don't talk about any of the stuff that makes us scream at each other? How about tonight it's just you, me and ..." he poured her a glass and handed it to her " ... champagne?"
For a moment Anya looked torn, then she gave him a small, reluctant smile. "Well ... if there's champagne."
Smiling with relief Xander leaned in to kiss her, and for a crazy, fleeting second it felt wrong, her familiar form almost alien to him. He closed his eyes, and enjoyed the kiss, squashing the strange feeling that he really shouldn't be doing this.
***
It had been over an hour since Anya had gone in. Behind that glass and those walls Xander was in there with her. With candles. No prizes for guessing what they were doing. If he focussed hard enough Spike was convinced he'd be able to make out Anya's moans. He snarled, trying to use anger to cover up the stabbing pain of jealousy. *He* should be in there, with the candles, listening to Ella Fitzgerald, and eating strawberries and cream - or having a bag of blood and listening to thrash metal. Whatever. He should be the one in there, not out here, torturing himself by waiting outside, alone in the cold while the guy he was in lo ... uh the guy he was crazy about got a shag with his bird.
He felt a growl welling up, if he really wanted Xander, Anya had to go. Two's company, three's a crowd and all that. Not that before Toth's mojo he had anything in particular against Anya, he'd actually kind of liked her, she wasn't sickly sweet like the witches, or so cold he could freeze ice on her ass like the Slayer, but all was fair in love and war. The only problem was he couldn't think of a way in the world to do it.
Spike stubbed out his twelfth cigarette and stalked away.
***
Afterwards, they were lying next to each other in bed. Close but not touching and Xander felt strange. Tonight had gone so well, he should be overjoyed but now the evening was over and he knew that nothing had been solved. He was more on edge than ever, like he was just waiting for the axe to fall.
"Xander," Anya said cautiously, as though she too was scared to shatter the fragile peace between them. "I don't want to fight, but this is *really* important to me. I ... I get scared. I don't want either of us to die. *Please* can't you give it up?"
"Anya no," he said quietly. "This is really important to *me*. I'm part of the team. I don't want to give that up."
Anya nodded, and in a way her resignation was even scarier than her fury. "And I don't want to keep getting close to death," she said quietly.
Xander stayed still as Anya sat up, moving away from him.
"So what are we going to do?" he asked.
Anya sighed. "I don't know."
Continued in the next part
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