Prologue

It made no sense.

Okay, it made perfect sense. In a sense that was of the insane variety.

Looking at the book Giles held, Xander knew that once again life was screwing him over. Only this time it would have a more permanent effect.

"As much as I've attempted to keep some of the more...detailed watcher journals from public eyes, I assume you do recognize this?" Giles asked.

As he nodded, Xander felt some relief in noticing that he wasn't the only one who looked slightly on the guilty side. Willow and Buffy were looking anywhere but at the innocuous-seeming little red book.

"Then what the bloody hell were you thinking, Xander?" Giles demanded.

"But I don't remember it!" Xander protested. "Well, I mean, yeah, obviously I remember it because you just asked if I recognize it and I do, but I don't have all the details memorized or anything. I just remember Buff wanted to know about how vampires did the relationship thing and Wills wanted to check out the mating habits of werewolves or something and I just wanted to look at it all because, hello, teenage boy -- and I'm kind of embarrassing everyone here including me and I think I'll shut up now." He turned an apologetic look on Buffy and Willow, who were glaring at him, both women's faces bright red.

Sighing, Giles set the book down on the arm of the couch. Taking off his glasses he began polishing them with the edge of his shirt, which was in itself a comforting thing to watch. Cling to the familiar when everything else was collapsing around you, and all that.

Xander couldn't recall the last time he'd felt so uncomfortable standing there in Giles' living room. Since the demise of the school this place had become a second home -- or maybe a third home because they spent about as much time researching in the Magick Box now -- and Xander hated feeling out of place here. But he supposed it was his fault. Somehow. In a way that he wasn't really certain of yet. They'd get to that part eventually though. In fact, it looked like they were there now.

"All right." Giles sounded much more calm now. Cleaning his glasses was probably like meditation for him or something. "Let's just go over this, step by step." He picked up the book again, then looked at the six people standing around near the front door. "Er, sit down, why don't you. This may take a while."

It was like a game of "musical chairs" when the music stopped. Everyone rushed to sit down. Willow and Tara squeezed into one chair together, Dawn seating herself on the arm of the same chair. Buffy and Anya both took separate chairs, leaving Xander to sit on the couch by himself. Alone. And no, this was in no way awkward.

He felt like he was facing an inquisition -- okay, so that's exactly what this was. But he was quick to remind himself that regardless of anything else these were his friends, his family. The only family that mattered anyway. Maybe they'd be disappointed in him but they'd still love him. He could face this.

Taking a deep breath, Xander looked up at Giles and tried for one of his usual carefree grins. It failed miserably, but hopefully no one would mention that.

"So, what just happened? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, G-man, I'm not getting it here." Obviously it had to do with that book, but Xander figured he was better off not bringing it up again because that way led more embarrassing of the friends. He'd let Giles lead them on this one.

Giles winced at the much-despised nickname, but he didn't protest it, which said a lot about the seriousness of the whole situation. Instead he opened the book and flipped through a few pages.

"The watcher who took this down made a hobby of researching the, um, sexual habits of various demons; rituals, traditions, all manner of things. Of course the man was a complete lunatic, but it has proved to be a valuable resource. Does any of this look familiar?" He held the book out to Xander who, after staring at it warily for a moment, reluctantly took it.

Glancing over the too-neat handwriting, he was taken back to the day he, Willow and Buffy had sneaked into Giles' office in the library to check out the "forbidden" books. There were a number of those stacked on the librarian's desk, but they'd settled on reading this one mostly because it was one of the few they could read, and of course being teenagers they'd seen the word "sex" in the title and that had settled it.

Xander could honestly say that he really didn't remember many details. It'd only been a couple of hours, one afternoon almost four years ago. He did remember laughing at the girls as they blushed and giggled, and laughing at himself when some of the things they read made him blush, but this one section on vampires that he stared at now? Nope. No bells ringing there. No recognizing or remembering of this at all.

Except that he did. Recognize it, that is. Because, reading through the description of the ritual for the third time now, Xander realized that this was exactly what he'd done. Exactly.

Closing the book in an overly-careful manner, Xander was vaguely aware that his hands were shaking, that he felt cold inside. He...he'd done this. Somehow he'd done this. But how? How could he do something as precise as this and not know it?

"Giles?" Xander looked up at him, feeling utterly lost.

The serious look on Giles' face was tempered somewhat by compassion as he watched the young man. "Is that the correct one?"

Xander nodded mutely.

"Then you can tell me what happened?"

Again Xander nodded. Oh yes, now that he'd read for himself what he'd done, he could see how it had happened. Every move he'd made suddenly seemed so clear. There was no way to mistake that little paved road he'd taken straight to hell.


Three months ago

Xander kicked in the door of the crypt -- the nice, big, solid stone door and yes, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he'd pay for it later when his foot was too swollen to walk and he had to listen to Anya go on and on about "thinking before doing" and "the monetary value" of this not being equal to the days he was going to miss work because of the injury. But it wasn't about that type of value; it was all sentimental and Anya just wouldn't get that. Spike, on the other hand, probably did. Which, Xander suspected, was why the bleached menace had taken it in the first place.

"And 'hello' to you too," said the aforementioned bleached one, standing by the stone sarcophagus, a raised eyebrow the only physical reaction to the intruder in his crypt. "Forget how to knock, did we?"

"Where is it?" demanded Xander, not in the mood for Spike's sarcasm. Not that he ever was, of course, but he was even less in the mood now.

"Where's what?" The not-so veiled amusement in the vampire's smirking expression convinced Xander more than anything else would that he hadn't been wrong in his assumption of where his property had wandered off to.

"You know 'what', fangless!" he growled in response -- ooh, look, he could do the manly growly thing when something got him angry enough. Take that, Anya! -- as he strode into the crypt. "And with the striding too," the thought briefly flitted through his mind. "Yeah, I'm an intimidating, manly-man tonight." Okay, he really needed to have a talk with his subconscious -- and maybe lay off the Clint Eastwood movies -- but that would have to wait until after he'd dealt with Spike.

Spike, who obviously didn't think Xander was even the slightest bit intimidating as he continued to just stand there, watching the human approach him, that irritating smirk still in place. "No, Harris, enlighten me," he drawled. "What's brought you here to my cozy little home? Not that I don't appreciate the company and all, but you lot do tend to drive down the property values."

And suddenly Xander found his hands gripping the lapels of Spike's duster and he was face-to-face with the vampire, shaking him hard.

Yeah, he and his subconsious were going to have a little discussion when he got back home. Something along the lines of the higher brain functions being in charge for a reason, so he didn't do stupid things like manhandle master vampires, even if this one was chipped and theoretically couldn't hurt him. But he just didn't trust Spike not to find a way to do something of the seriously unpleasant variety to them all if he got pissed off enough -- and maybe he should stop shaking Spike before the vampire's brains were rattled more than normal and he couldn't get any answers.

"Were. Is. It?" Xander enunciated the demand, pushing Spike back against the sarcophagus.

Spike just looked dazed for a moment before blinking, shaking his head and focusing on him again. "Right, um, where's what, now?"

And again with the manly-sounding growl, only this time without words. At least it got a better reaction than last time. Both of Spike's eyebrows gravitated towards his roots, which were starting to show. And why was he noticing that?

"You aren't possessed, are you, Harris? Because, gotta tell you, mate, you're going for a record there."

Now was so not the time Xander wanted to revisit the saga of his demon magnet-ness, besides, no way was he getting distracted that easily. "Nice try, bleach boy, but I'm not leaving 'till you hand it over. Did you really think I wouldn't notice that you stole it?"

The irritating smirk was back. "Stole what, exactly? Gotta be more specific there. Nicked more than a few things from you lot, after all."

Xander rolled his eyes. "As comforting as it is to know that I'm not the only victim of your kleptomania, chip-dip, you know what I'm here for!"

"Ooh, big word there. Don't strain yourself, eh? Wouldn't want the Slayer after me 'cause you ruptured something trying to think."

Spike was enjoying this way too much and that grated on Xander's already strained nerves. He stepped further into the vampire's personal space, almost nose-to-nose with him again. "It took me months to save up enough to buy it, it means a lot to me, you know it, and I want it back! I don't care if you've been drinking blood out of it; I'll scrub it out and try to forget you ever got within ten feet of it. Hand it over, now!"

"Oh! That's what you're on about." Spike nodded slowly as if suddenly understanding. The widening smirk told a different story. "Didn't think you'd mind if I took it, now did I? Not like you ever used it, and some bint scribbled all over it anyway; so I thought I'd just take it before you threw it out."

It took a moment before Xander realized he had to stop grinding his teeth to speak. "It's autographed, Spike," he stated very slowly, as though speaking to a young child, or a mentally challenged adult. Which Spike probably was. "It's an autographed, collector's edition, Babylon 5, heat activated mug. And I want it back right now!"

"Well now, there's a bit of a problem with that." It hadn't seemed possible for that smirk to get any wider, but there it was.

He didn't want to hear this. Xander was absolutely certain he didn't want to hear this. "What problem?" Of course his mouth wasn't listening to his brain tonight.

"Broke it."

He couldn't have heard that right. "You...what?"

"Broke it," Spike repeated with a shrug. "Not my fault it didn't bounce when it fell."

"You broke my mug?" Xander asked quietly.

Spike nodded.

"The mug I bought with five months of money I hid from my dad so he wouldn't steal it to buy beer?"

He nodded again.

"The mug autographed by Claudia Christian?"

"Yeah; you hit your head too many times today? I already told you, I broke the bleeding mug. Can't give it back, now can I? Well, maybe I could. Just gotta go find all the pieces and whatnot."

Yep. That subconscious was getting too frisky for its own good. Xander resolved to sit it down and yell at it for a while, maybe even give it a good slap or two -- just as soon as he got off of Spike and stopped trying to strangle him.

He didn't remember attacking the vampire, but somehow here he was, on the floor with him, hands around that pale throat squeezing as hard as he could. Of course it didn't help his temper at all to see Spike laughing silently the entire time. Silently because he couldn't get any air. Air, which he didn't need anyway because he was a vampire. Which was probably why the whole strangling thing wasn't working. So Xander switched tactics.

Now that was interesting. Xander had never had someone stop his punch mid-throw. Didn't look like it took all that much effort on Spike's part either. And now the vampire was grinning at him. It was a look that almost dripped contempt and at that moment Xander understood the expression "seeing red." Not so much because he saw it, but because he wanted to see it. In copious amounts. Preferably gushing from whatever wounds he managed to give Spike in the next few minutes.

During those few minutes, however, Xander discovered something: Spike could defend himself without setting off the chip. Not by attacking but by stopping Xander's attacks. He couldn't do anything about being slammed into whatever wall or part of the floor was convenient, but that didn't seem to bother him much and he could, and did, block whatever punches or kicks came his way. And he seemed to love it. His eyes sparkled as he ducked and blocked and that damn smirk was back.

Eventually they were back where they'd started, on the floor, Xander pinning Spike there, under him, with his weight, but unable to do anything else. Spike had hold of both his fists, not hard enough to cause any pain but more than enough to keep Xander from pulling away. Xander was panting from the exertion and frustration, but Spike just lay there looking smug.

"That the best you can do then, git?" Spike taunted. "I mean, it was a nice distraction and all, but a two-year old girl hits harder than you. Now, are we done here? I wanna go out and find a real fight before the sun comes up."

And...whoa. Right. All plans of having that little chat with his subconscious suddenly went right out the window. Xander didn't want anything to do with his subconscious right now. In fact, he was scared of it. Good subconsciouses didn't send impulses to the brain that made people bite vampires. And that was what he was doing. Those were his teeth buried in the flesh between Spike's neck and shoulder. That was Spike's blood he tasted welling up in his mouth -- Gah!

Xander pulled away abruptly, feeling the skin tear further from his panicked withdrawal but unable to care beyond the fact that he had to get away. And Spike let him go; the look of utter shock on the vampire's face matching exactly how Xander felt.

Xander managed to struggle to his feet on legs that trembled almost too hard to support him. He frantically tried to wipe all traces of blood from his mouth and chin as he stumbled backwards, away from the still-shocked and bleeding vampire at his feet. Turning, he staggered out of the crypt as fast as he could, nearly falling a time or two but eventually making it out into fresh air.

He stood there in front of the crypt, gasping for air, trying to figure out just what the hell had gotten into him. After a few seconds he decided he really didn't want to know the answer to that. He just needed to get far away from here -- from Spike -- buy some property in Denial Land and take up permanent residence there.

Because this never happened.


Two nights later

Sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, beer in one hand, remote in the other, girlfriend snuggled up next to him, Xander was content. This was good. After a long day at work -- the first day back now that he could walk again and no, he wasn't thinking about how that had happened -- at a job he was so good at they'd made him foreman, thank you, he had a nice home to come back to and an exciting night to look forward to. Well, after the chickflick was over, anyway. Anya just let him hold the remote because "men need to feel in control." He wasn't allowed to switch from "Steel Magnolias" over to the football game he'd rather be watching. But relationships were all about compromise, or so Anya kept telling him. Besides, the torture would be over eventually and then they could make with the sex. The good part of the evening.

It wasn't always torture though. Sometimes he was able to convince Anya to watch his sci-fi tapes with him, or the occasional "low plot, high explosive" movie. She just didn't appreciate the genres and tended to keep up a running monologue on why they were so ridiculous -- something she didn't appreciate him doing with the talk shows and girl-type movies she favored and wanted him to watch with her. But he put up with it because she was his girlfriend and they loved each other and you couldn't agree on everything. And the sex afterwards was always good.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to sum up things in a relationship. But the sex was good. And Xander was content. He just...didn't try to think about things too hard.

Oops. Anya was crying. Xander realized that he'd tuned out the movie in favor of being introspective-man and he'd missed some big emotional scene. He knew that any second now Anya would start to talk about something related to whatever had just happened and she'd be irritated if she found out he hadn't been paying attention. Time to go for a distraction. He already had his arm around her so he hugged her more tightly, planting a kiss on the top of her head before resting his chin on the same spot.

For a moment he thought it'd worked. Anya sniffed and cuddled closer to him, still watching the movie. Then his hopes died a sad and painful death.

"It's just not right!" she declared in between sniffles. "Shelby had a large house, a handsome, rich husband and a son -- I think it would've been more dramatic with a daughter. When someone is perfectly happy they should stay that way!"

Ah yes, another round of "Anya, meet the real world!" It was never pretty.

"Would you do that, Xander?" Suddenly Anya was looking directly at him.

"Err...what?" Xander felt like the proverbial deer in the headlights and it probably showed. Not a good thing, he knew, showing weakness in front of a predator. Just like it wasn't a good sign to be thinking of his relationship in terms of predator/prey. But he wasn't going to examine that too closely.

"If that happened to me, would you do what Jackson did?" There were still tears in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Umm...." There was no way he getting out of this and Xander just knew that the evening was going straight downhill from here.

And then there was a miracle.

Actually, it was just a knock at the door, but it was salvation as far as Xander was concerned. He was off the couch and at the door before Anya could say one word about their evening being interrupted.

"Hi!" he said brightly as he yanked the door open -- and instantly his cheerfulness evaporated. "Spike."

The vampire in question stood there, looking back at him with a strange expression. Gone was the usual cocky attitude and trademark smirk, instead he looked...wary? That was something Xander hadn't seen before and it was wiggy. Even more wiggy when he thought about just why Spike was probably acting this way -- and nope, not going there.

Still silent, Spike held something up. A tan plastic bag.

"Do I want to know what that is?" Xander glanced from the bag back to the vampire.

In answer, Spike suddenly tossed it to him. Catching it by pure reflex, Xander felt something hard and cool inside the bag. Curious, he reached inside and closed his hand around what felt like a ceramic mug. Pulling it out, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Spike, this is--" the words died when he looked up from the mug and found the doorway empty. Spike was gone.

For a brief moment Xander thought about going after him, but he ended up just closing the door. He didn't know what to think about this -- any of it -- right now, and he needed time.

"Xander, what did Spike want?"

Oh, right, Anya was still there. Glancing back at her, he held up the mug in reply.

"Is that what you went to get from him before? I thought you said he broke it." She frowned at him.

"Um, yeah. That's what he said," Xander agreed distractedly, still focused on the mug he held almost reverently in both hands.

"Oh. That's strange." Then her frown disappeared and she shrugged. "Well, put it away and come finish watching the movie with me."

Xander just nodded, fingers absentmindedly tracing the Babylon 5 logo on the mug as he walked over to the display case he'd constructed for his collections.

Spike telling a lie would have been normal. Spike coming to see him wasn't all that disturbing. Spike bringing him this didn't bother him too much either. But what made no sense, what really blew his mind, was the fact that the mug Spike had stolen had one autograph on it; this one had the entire cast.


One week later

Okay, he could do this. He could be Mr. Maturity and face up to what he did and live with the consequences of his actions.

Xander stopped walking when Spike's crypt came into sight.

Or he could just pretend like nothing ever happened and see if he could get Spike to play along.

Yeah. That one sounded better. Hefting the duffle bag into a better position on his shoulder, he continued towards his goal in the fading daylight.

He'd done a lot of thinking about what had happened the week before -- and okay, that was a big lie. He'd done a lot of not thinking about it. There was just no way to rationalize what he did and that was not something he could talk to any of his girls about. Not even Giles was likely to take that one calmly. So he'd done his best to bury it with a few other memories he really didn't care to revisit. Ever. And if sometimes he found himself thinking about that smooth skin under his teeth that wasn't nearly as cool as he'd always thought vampires would be -- not thinking about it! Not!

Shaking his head to get rid of the disturbing imagery, Xander stopped in front of the crypt door -- a door that was looking a bit unsteady on its hinges and he wasn't going to follow that particular thought -- and took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he knocked. When there was no answer after a minute or so, he knocked again. This time when he received no response he pushed the door open a bit.

"Spike?" he called out. Eyes used to the daylight, he squinted to try and make out anything in the gloom beyond the partially open door.

The sudden flare of a lighter near the back of the crypt told him that he wasn't talking to the air. When no invitation was forthcoming after a few moments of standing there, Xander slid inside without opening the door further, not letting anymore light in than necessary for him to see by.

"Hey," he said, more than a bit uncomfortably as he walked towards the stone sarcophagus. He could see Spike now who, sans his usual duster, was leaning against the back wall watching him. The wariness he'd seen a week before was still in evidence, but now there was something else as well. Spike seemed to be studying him, examining him in a way that should have made Xander even more nervous, but strangely it didn't. It actually had the opposite effect.

More confident than he'd been moments before, Xander slung the duffle bag onto the sarcophagus. The clash and jangle of metal on metal caused Spike to raise an eyebrow, but otherwise he remained where he was, well out of reach, smoking in silence.

"Early Scooby meeting," Xander explained as he unzipped the duffle. "There's some demon being raised tonight -- big name, majorly lacking in the vowels, can't pronounce it, sorry -- so Buffy and the gang are going to stop it. Nothing new there, huh?" He smiled in the vampire's direction. Spike just continued to watch him.

"Okay. Anyway, Buff says that the usual vamp and co. activity's been up lately and she doesn't want them overrunning the town just because she has somewhere else to be. So you and me got elected to patrol." He stopped for a second, musing. "You know, I never got elected for anything in school. I almost ran for class president one year, but I chickened out. Good thing too. There was a meeting for all the students running for office after school one evening and they all disappeared. We were told they ran away. Makes you wonder what really happened -- or maybe that's something I shouldn't wonder about. Yep. Happy doing the not wondering thing. Right. Back to patrolling. Look, I brought prezzies!" so saying, he pulled out a double-headed axe and held it up with a grin.

Spike, who had listened to the babbling without visible reaction, now raised his other eyebrow. Flicking his cigarette aside, he pushed away from the wall and moved to the side of the sarcophagus opposite Xander, effectively keeping it between them.

"Nice toy you've got there, pet. Know how to use it?" His gaze didn't leave the axe and his eyes held a gleam that could only be translated as "want-to-kill-things-now." Xander was happy not to disappoint him.

"Don't have to. Like I said: prezzie. I brought it for you." He held out the axe.

"Oh, luv, you shouldn't have." Spike was grinning as he took the proffered weapon, a truly chilling, homicidal expression.

Attributing Spike's sudden usage of pet names to his excitement over the axe, Xander just grinned back and reached into the duffle again. The axe was nice, he had to agree with that, but he had his own favorite. The double-edged sword seemed to be made for him. It just felt...right in his hands. The balance was perfect, the reach would work for everything but right up-in-your-face fighting, and he'd brought other things for those occasions.

Xander didn't realize he'd been so...absorbed with his sword until the sound of a throat clearing brought him back to where he was. Spike was watching him, amused smirk once again in place.

"Don't mean to interrupt you two, but what else do you have in that bag of tricks?" He nodded at the duffle bag.

Reluctantly setting the sword aside, Xander took the duffle and upended it, letting the remaining items fall out onto the sarcophagus with a clatter.

For a few moments Spike said nothing, just stood there staring. Finally, just when Xander thought the vampire might start drooling, Spike looked up at him with a smile that would have sent most sane people running screaming for their lives. Xander hadn't considered himself truly sane since the day he hadn't run for his life when he found out what exactly it was Buffy did.

"The Watcher and the Slayer don't know you're playing with their toys, do they?"

Xander shrugged. "Hey, they're sending us off alone. The least they can do is let us borrow a few things to stay safe."

"Safe. Yeah." Spike watched as Xander picked up a three-pronged dagger.

"You know, Buff may be the Slayer and all, but the rest of us help. So why won't Giles ever train us to use this stuff?" Xander said with a sigh.

"Maybe because he's seen that look on your face?" Spike replied, the smirk widening.

Realizing he was nearly caressing the dagger, Xander gave a sheepish grin and tucked the blade into his belt alongside the usual wooden stake.

Spike took the throwing stars for himself and the remaining dagger with serrated edges. All of the weapons disappeared into pockets of his duster.

"A bit heavy, isn't it?" he asked as Xander lifted the sword again.

"Nope." Xander smiled as he tossed it from one hand to the other. "Construction work," he explained.

"Is that right?"

Something in that tone made Xander stop playing with his new toy and look at Spike. Spike, who was...checking him out? No. He wasn't seeing that. A simple peace offering of some weapons wouldn't have the Big Bad looking him over. He was reading Spike wrong.

"So, ready to go terrorize the demon population of Sunnydale?" he asked, deliberately looking away from the vampire. "Sun should be setting any time now."

Silence. Then: "Xander, maybe you don't--"

"No." Xander lowered his sword but didn't look Spike. "I'm only going to explain this once, okay? I'm living in a great place right now. Nothing ever bothers me there. Nothing happens unless I want it to. Land's cheap and there's always room for someone else. It's called Denial Land. You should probably look into buying a place there. Get it?"

Again, silence. Then Spike was standing in front of him, axe resting on his right shoulder as he stared at the human. "Denial Land." It was more of a statement than a question. Then he smirked. "Yeah, pet, I 'get it.' Maybe better than you do."

Xander frowned at that, but he didn't have time to question it before Spike was speaking again.

"So, Xander, you taking me hunting then?"

Twice now that Spike had used his name and that was even more disturbing than the pet names of minutes before. But Denial Land was a wonderful place after all, and Xander was always looking for more property. So he just nodded. "Yeah, Spike. Let's go kick some ass." And that seemed to be all there was to it.

The rest of the night was perfectly normal. Well, normal for the Hellmouth anyway. Buffy had been right about the supernatural being out in force. The weapons Xander had "borrowed" were put to a great deal of use. Spike and his axe seemed to be a match made in heaven -- although Xander suspected that particular match had help from someone in a much lower place -- and Xander found that while he didn't have any great skill with a sword, he could hack off heads with the best of them.

Just before dawn they parted ways back near Spike's crypt. Covered in various types of unidentifiable -- and some too identifiable -- gore, Xander was satisfied that they'd managed to get past that thing from last week that he wasn't at all thinking about, and maybe even made some progress towards being, if not friends, then at least guys that could stand to be around each other while they enjoyed the hell out of killing all sorts of demony things.

And if they both "forgot" to return the weapons Xander had brought, well, they could always use the excuse that they wanted to clean and sharpen the weapons before taking them back. Someday.


Five days later

Another early Scooby meeting at the Magick Box. Another group of idiots with a short life expectancy trying to raise a demon. Darwin was right. Or was that Barnum? Maybe they both were. Didn't matter, he still had to sit here and pretend he understood what Giles was saying.

Xander nodded for what had to be the twentieth time. He didn't have a clue what he was agreeing with, he just nodded whenever Giles took a breath -- which wasn't as often as you'd think -- and hoped no one noticed that he'd been lost since the second word with more than four syllables came out of Giles' mouth.

A glance over at Willow and Tara at the other table showed that the witches looked worried, so Xander adopted what he hoped was an appropriate matching expression. Fortunately, Buffy looked just as bored as he was so he wouldn't feel super guilty if he was caught drifting off; he could share the guilt.

Dawn was still at school. Xander was only able to be there because work had shut down early on account of finding a dead body -- which happened about once a month or so and didn't living on the Hellmouth make life interesting? Anya was behind the counter spending quality time with her money. Technically it was half Giles', but she'd once told Xander that she liked to pretend.

Xander watched her for a few moments. The way she stroked the money, how soft her voice was when she talked to it; actually that was a bit more affectionate than she was with him. And wasn't that a disturbing thought. Okay, time to think about something else. Like maybe the fact that Buffy was saying his name repeatedly.

"Yeah, Buff. I hear you; what's up?" He smiled brightly at her, hoping that she wouldn't call him on his lack of attention. A vain hope, as it happened.

"No spacing out; bad Xander. If we have to sit through it, so do you," she pronounced, crossing her arms authoritatively.

Xander grinned slightly. "Sorry, Buff. Okay, I won't make you suffer alone. Go on G-man, lay it on us."

Giles gave a long-suffering sigh. "Xander, I've asked repeatedly that you not--"

The familiar rebuke was interrupted by the front door slamming open as a tarp-covered form came rushing into the shop. Cursing, Spike threw off the tarp and vigorously stamped out the spots of flame that had sprung up on it, showing just how close he'd come to ending his unlife.

After a minute or two of that -- during which Xander noted that it was a good thing Giles had closed for the day or they would've spent the next hour trying to come up with creative explanations along the lines of "performance art" -- Spike kicked the tarp aside and brushed off any stray dust from his black T-shirt. The one he wore without another shirt or the duster on top of it. Again. And now that Xander thought about it, he hadn't seen Spike wearing his usual outfit since -- nope. Doing the not thinking about it thing again. Not caring what the evil undead is wearing. Not at all.

"So, what new villain-of-the-week has you lot all serious-like?" Spike drawled as he walked over to the group. "Oh, by the way, Watcher, might want to check out The Bronze. Someone's gone and painted a pentagram around it." He dropped into the seat opposite Xander without looking at him.

"Yes, Spike, we are well aware of that." Giles sighed again, this time it sounded more annoyed than anything else. "Why are you here?"

"Thought I might help out a bit. Besides, hard to get any sleep with all that bloody chanting."

"Chanting?" Giles prompted impatiently when Spike didn't continue.

"Yeah. Bunch of inconsiderate blokes wandering through the cemetery, chanting up a storm, literally. Can't be bothered to think of anyone else. I'm knackered." He went on about the group of what sounded like teenagers who had been in the cemetery since sunup, performing some sort of ritualized chant that tended to produce very localized electrical storms.

Xander didn't catch many of the details, mainly because he was busy looking at Spike. Or, more specifically, the very visible scar on the crease between Spike's neck and left shoulder. The outlines of human teeth showed clearly, even on that pale skin. It looked like someone had tried to take a bite out of him except...Xander was almost certain that wasn't what he'd been trying to do. He was -- not thinking about it! It didn't matter that Spike was sitting right there and how could anyone not see that scar when it was just so there -- and again with the not thinking.

Forcing his gaze away from the vampire, Xander made himself watch Giles and occasionally Buffy or the other girls. He still didn't really hear a word that was being said, but at least he looked like he was paying attention. Hopefully someone would fill him in later when Spike wasn't around being so...distracting.


The next night

"Explain it to me again."

Xander rolled his eyes -- then quickly looked in a totally different direction when his gaze once again fell on Spike's shoulder. Spike had shown up for the night's slayage in the same outfit he'd been wearing lately. He didn't make a point of it, but Xander was beginning to wonder. Still, that fell under the heading of "things that will never cross the mind" so he just shrugged and went back to not looking at Spike.

"Willow, Tara and Giles are doing the mojo outside The Bronze," he said in a tired voice. He'd already been over this twice, but if he didn't do it again then he'd be stuck here with a whining vampire and he just wasn't in the mood. "Buffy is at the actual raising site somewhere around here, to slice 'n dice the demons when they show. Dawn and Anya are on the other side of the cemetery doing backup, just like you and me."

"Now there's the part I don't get." Spike took a drag of his rapidly shortening cigarette. "Doesn't make sense. Sure, the bints need to be out of the way, but you and me, pet, we could do some damage." His axe rested heads-down at his feet and as he spoke his free hand was busy caressing the hilt, sliding up and down, occasionally twisting near the rounded end.

Xander knew that Spike had stopped speaking, knew that he probably looked like an idiot just standing there staring, but he couldn't help it. That movement was mesmerizing, among other things. He didn't know how dry his lips were until he licked them -- or how small his pants were. He really needed to buy larger sized jeans.

"Xan, luv."

The softly spoken words did more to drag Xander's attention away from the axe hilt than an entire horde of demons would have. He looked up at Spike, or he meant to anyway, but once again he found his gaze riveted on the bite scar. His bite scar. He'd put that there. His. And it was utterly disturbing that it wasn't...disturbing.

Still vaguely aware of the sword cradled in his arms, waiting for use, the thought flitted through his mind that maybe Spike would like to share. He could play with Spike's axe and Spike could play with his sword. And no, it wasn't subtle, but then neither was staring at him like Xander wanted nothing more than to make that mark even more visible.

Xander tore his gaze away from Spike, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could. This time shaking his head didn't get rid of the insane thoughts and images so he began banging his head back against the crypt he was leaning against. It didn't make anything go away, but hopefully the pain and eventual concussion would.

Then there was a hand between his head and the stone and he could feel Spike beside him, but he didn't open his eyes to look. If he did that he didn't know what would happen and he couldn't deal with any more insanity right now.

"Pet...," it was a whisper, barely audible even close to his ear as it was. The surprisingly warm breath that accompanied the endearment moved over his ear and cheek, making him shiver.

Xander couldn't recall ever being grateful for being on the Hellmouth before, but he was now. The crashing sound of something, or things, coming their way broke into whatever Moment they were having. In an instant Spike was a few feet to his left, his axe at the ready. Xander lifted his own sword just as a group of a dozen or more vampires came into view. He was actually disappointed.

"Vampires?" he complained as he decapitated one. "I was hoping we'd at least get in on a little of the demony action tonight."

"Think you'll get your wish, luv," Spike called as he took out two with one swing of the axe. "These wankers are running from something. We're just in their way."

He was right. The vampires did seem more interested in getting by them than fighting them. Not that Xander cared. He wanted to kill something right now and these guys were fair game.

"Bugger!" Suddenly Spike sounded upset.

"What?" Xander couldn't look away from the vampire he was slicing into little pieces to see what was wrong.

"That's a Svegolt demon!"

Now Xander risked quick a look around. And it was hard to miss the thing. It wasn't every day you saw a six-armed, four foot high, neon orange demon with no visible facial features wearing...lederhosen? Even on the Hellmouth that was unusual.

"It's definitely bright," he commented as the vampire he'd been carving on finally turned to dust.

"I can eat those!" Spike growled. "I bet the bloody Watcher knows that too! That's why he made me stay here, so's I couldn't get a decent, hot meal!" Rage was slowly creeping into his tone.

That actually made sense. Xander could see Giles deciding that Spike didn't need to be told about this. If he'd known then it was likely that Spike would've spent his time feeding off the demons instead of killing them quickly, which wouldn't have been much help to Buffy since there were supposed to be around thirty of them being raised. Still...Xander only saw the one and it was rapidly leaving the area. And they were supposed to be clean-up crew here. The vampires were almost all gone. Xander only had the one in front of him that was somehow managing to avoid his sword, and Spike was managing the four near him....

In a quick move that surprised himself as well as his victim, Xander caught the vampire in front of him with the flat of the sword blade, sending it tumbling towards Spike and the other vampires.

"Finish off that one for me!" Xander yelled at Spike before sprinting off after the demon. Behind him he heard a reply that was more cursing than anything else.

Fortunately the demon didn't seem to be able to move as fast as a human, so Xander caught up with it quickly. Unfortunately the demon had long, very sharp looking claws on the ten fingers of each of its six hands, and it didn't seem happy about being stopped by a human with a sword.

Those arms were definitely long, and Xander was glad he'd learned the art of ducking over the years. The sword at least let him keep the thing at more than arm's length, which probably saved his life seeing that he wasn't trying to kill it. He really didn't dwell too much on that particular thought, he just concentrated on keeping the demon right where it was without fatally wounding it, or really wounding it in any major way. He just used his newly learned trick of smacking hard with the flat of the sword's blade, or the old trick of using the sharp point when one of those clawed hands got too close.

"Spike! Are you coming or what?" he shouted after what seemed like an eternity had passed.

"What, pet, can't handle one little demon?" And there Spike was, sitting on the top of a headstone, twirling his axe. "'Course it'd help if you'd stop playing with it and used that sword like it was meant to be used."

"Playing with it?" Xander snarled, frustration growing as he realized that Spike had just been sitting there, watching.

"Well, yeah. What else would you call giving it those little love taps? Should just run it through."

"What I call it, Spike," Xander ducked under another swipe of too-sharp claws, "is dinner! You said you could eat it, and for some reason that I'm really not thinking about right now, I decided to save it for you. So here, enjoy." And with that he hit the demon as hard as he could with the flat of the blade, forcing it to stagger in Spike's direction.

Spike who just sat there staring at Xander with a peculiar expression. "You giving it to me, luv?"

"No," the sarcasm practically dripped from Xander's voice, "I just spent however long smacking this thing around because it gives me a happy. Yes, I'm giving it to you, Spike! Now will you eat the damn thing before it -- ahh!" He ducked again as the demon swung another arm in his direction. "Before it makes me hack it to pieces so I stay in one piece!"

And wow, could Spike move when motivated. Suddenly the demon had a vampire firmly attached to its back, game-faced, fangs imbedded in its neck. Without a mouth the demon wasn't making any noise, but Xander was pretty certain it wasn't happy with the situation, given all the flailing about and failed attempts to scrape Spike off. Yeah, those arms were long, but they just weren't made to reach around its own back. Spike was there until he decided to leave.

Dragging his sword behind him, Xander walked over to the headstone Spike had been sitting on moments before. The axe lay on the ground in front of it and Xander let his sword drop beside the other weapon. He'd been keyed up all night, ready to take on whatever came their way, but he'd had to fight other things tonight besides the usual Hellmouth specials, and now he was emotionally worn out. He just wanted to get the all-clear from Giles and go home.

Not that he'd be getting any rest once he got there. Damn. Anya would want to talk about everything that had happened and then have "life-reaffirming sex." Not that he was against the talking or the sex, he just wasn't really up to either right now. He wanted sleep and maybe later he'd try and figure out what the hell was going on with him. He wouldn't be having that particular conversation with Anya, of course. There were definitely some things you didn't share with your girlfriend.

"Pet! Xander!"

Who knew how long Spike had been trying to get his attention. The vampire, now kneeling over the unmoving demon, still in game-face, was pointing at the weapons. "Hide 'em, luv! Slayer's coming this way."

Oops! Right. Couldn't let Buffy see the nice weapons that were technically hers but really suited Spike and Xander better, which was why they had yet to make it back to the weapons locker. Xander grabbed them both and dragged them out of sight behind a large headstone. He really didn't want to leave them there all alone, unattended. Who knew what could come along and take their darlings--er, their weapons, but it was that or lose them to Buffy, who was suddenly walking into sight.

"Oh, so much of the eeww!" Buffy exclaimed when she saw Spike who was back to feeding on the demon. "C'mon, Spike, move off of it so I can kill it. It's breaking so many color laws by just existing!"

"Hey, Buff," Xander called to catch her attention. "Done with the slayage tonight?"

"Yeah," she spared another grimace for the dying demon. "Slayed 'em all. A couple got away but I caught one and I guess Spike...caught this one. And can I just say eeww again?"

"Oh, come on, let him have it." Xander pointedly didn't look at the scene because it kind of gave him eeww feelings too. That was one ugly demon. "Spike's killing it, just slower than you would."

"I suppose. Just...ick! I couldn't eat something that looks like that!"

"With ya there, Buff. So...anything from the G-man yet?"

"Nope." Buffy pulled out her cell phone and frowned at it. "He only mentioned those Sve--Sfeg--Serv--those color-blind demons. I'm hoping there isn't anything more that's supposed to show up."

Xander was about to agree with her when the phone rang. Buffy answered it eagerly. After a few "uh-huhs," "yeps" and a chipper "great," she hung up and beamed at Xander.

"All done! Everything's good." Then she frowned again. "Well, not so good for those guys that raised the demons. They're kind of inside the demons. Or were, anyway. Not sure how that works 'cause I didn't see any guys, just demon-y things."

"Don't worry about it, Buff," Xander patted her shoulder, "the G-man will explain all. I'm just glad I don't have to be around to hear it." He grinned down at her and winked.

"Gee, thanks. Some friend you are." She gave him a playful swat on the arm. Playful to her, but it felt like one of the guys at work had slugged him. He was used to it from her though so he just kept grinning.

"See you next disaster," he quipped. That brought another frown.

"Why? Aren't you coming to Willow's for the movie marathon tomorrow?"

He shook his head. "Can't, sorry. Work. Missed a couple days this month and I promised I'd make them up."

"Oh." She looked disappointed, which gave him a warm feeling, knowing his friends would miss him and all. "Well, we'll have another movie get together soon then, because I want to see all my friends on a totally non-Slayer basis. Okay?"

"Yeah, definitely okay," Xander agreed.

"Good. Now shoo, go on home so you can get up and go to work tomorrow and think about those of us who get to sleep in." Grinning at him, Buffy waved and walked away.

Shaking his head, barely managing to avoid the juvenile impulse to stick his tongue out at her, Xander watched her walk off towards the other side of the cemetery to collect Dawn and let Anya know Xander would be by for her in a minute or two. Once she was out of site he quickly headed back to the large gravestone to collect the weapons.

As he carried them over to where Spike was still feeding off the demon, he inspected them closely with an eye that was fast becoming professional. "You know, I found a couple websites on maintaining edged weapons yesterday. With all the hack n' slash stuff we're doing, I'll print you out a copy so you can do something about this." He dropped the axe near the feeding vampire. "It's starting to look on the ragged side."

"Is not!" Spike came up from feeding long enough to voice the indignant protest. "Could take the ballocks off a gnat with that edge! Prec--It's perfect!"

"Then you must've used it to chop at a few headstones sometime tonight 'cause it's not having that perfect look. And I'm so with Buff on the whole eeww aspect here." Xander had to look away from the neon purple sludge dripping from Spike's mouth. Assumedly that was the demon's blood but, just...eeww.

"See ya, Spike. I really have to get out of here before hurl-age becomes imminent." Leaving the vampire to the rest of his meal, Xander swung his sword over his shoulder, flat side down -- and hadn't he learned that the hard way -- and walked towards where he'd parked his car outside the cemetery.

First he'd hide his sword in the trunk -- Anya still didn't know about Baby--er--the sword and she probably wouldn't understand anyway so it was easier to just not tell her -- and then he'd swing around to the other side of the cemetery to pick up his girlfriend. And maybe, if he was really lucky, she'd talk herself out on the way home and he could get some sleep tonight.


Three days later

Yep. Oh yeah. No mistaking it now. The bleached wonder was doing it on purpose. Fangless knew what he was doing and there was no way to miss it anymore.

Sitting in Giles' living room for yet another emergency meeting on yet another demon raising --  didn't this many mean some sort of apocalypse-y thing was coming and oh, that was what Giles was getting to now -- Xander was slouched down on the couch, Willow and Tara and Buffy crammed in beside him. Dawn was at the Magick Box doing homework while Anya watched her and the shop for the afternoon. Spike, however, was sprawled in the chair opposite the couch, and that was where Xander's attention had unwillingly focused.

Beside Xander, the girls were listening intently as Giles read from some ancient scroll. Even Buffy looked into it, which meant it had to be really bad. Not that Xander really had a clue about it. Well, yeah, he did get that it was the apocalypse. Again. But he was pretty sure even without listening that it was still the same old thing: blah, blah, blah, big ugly demon; yadda, yadda, yadda, world ending soon; et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, can we get this done before "Survivor" comes on?

And, oops. Judging from the sudden silence and the glares he was receiving, he'd said that last bit out loud.

Chuckling with ill-concealed embarrassment, Xander grinned at everyone. "Um...sorry? The mouth is kind of working without the brain today."

Giles rolled up the scroll with another of his long-suffering sighs (patent pending). "Xander, while I'm pleased that the destruction of the world as we know it no longer causes you to run away screaming in terror," oh, so not fair. It had only happened that once. Really, "we really do need to review the facts of this prophecy. One wrong action could cause a chain reaction that--"

Xander could practically feel his eyes glazing over as Giles returned to explaining the ins and outs of the prophecy in excruciating detail. He might've gone back to that experiment he'd been conducting lately at these meetings on whether or not it was really possible to pass out with your eyes open, but a movement caught his eye and suddenly Xander found his attention dragged back to the one place he really didn't want it.

He'd actually managed to forget about Spike for a couple minutes there, but now his gaze was once again riveted on the bleached blond vampire, or rather on the too-visible scar bared for all to see. But so far only Xander seemed to notice it. And Spike, of course. Spike who sat there, amused smirk in place as he casually brushed his fingers back and forth over the silvery marks. Back and forth. Back and forth.


Six nights later

Resolve look firmly in place -- and even if he had stolen it from Willow, Xander knew he could pull it off almost as well as she could -- Xander waited. His convictions were proven moments later when the vampire standing in front of him visibly caved.

"You sure about this, pet?" Spike asked, but his tone signaled his resignation.

"Yep," Xander said brightly. "The world isn't ending for another," a glance at his watch, "forty minutes. We've got time."

They both turned their attention to the website Xander had pulled up on the Magick Box's computer.

"See, you can even choose colors -- but I guess you'll be going with the black, huh? I'm thinking of ordering the gray."

"Dunno, luv; I like the red myself."

"Red? Didn't see that." Xander used the mouse to zoom in on picture of the weapons carrying case that was indeed red. "Oooh, nice! Not too pricey either. Think I'll use the Visa. Anya hasn't maxed that one out yet...."


Five hours later

__________________________________________