This is my entry in the Xanderslash. I aplologize for the lateness, I thought they were due today, not Thursday

For herself_nyc, who requested Xander/Spike.




The Bug Eater and the Horrid Evil Thing


All things considered he was pretty sure Spike had been there a second ago, because it was an strange situation to be in by himself.

The rather anticipatory state of his body, if nothing else, declared that until quite recently he'd had company. But the initial rush of happiness had been interrupted by an abrupt flare of leather and cursing, cool expert hands had stopped touching important places, and then he was there alone. Alone, by himself even. Alone, and leaning back against a cold stone wall, his jeans only half unzipped while one hand still carefully held on to Spike's cigarette.

Stupid cigarette. Lacking a better course of action he took a tentative puff of it and choked violently on the result. When he was finally able to catch his breath he sucked in a lungful of cold, clean night air, tipping his head back against the wall for support. High up above, he saw the moon suspended picturesquely over the wrought iron bars on the mausoleum and for a feeble moment he felt justified in thinking it was somehow poetic.

A moment later, when his circulation had returned to something approaching normal, he became properly appalled at the pathetic emotional state he'd been reduced to. The moon, the night, and the creatures thereof sometimes lured even the wisest of souls into the arms of folly.

But even the cheery attendance of the bright full moon and the scattering of twinkly little stars failed to stop the poetry of the moment from plummeting exponentially. He took another deep breath, pushed off from the wall and took a hesitant step forward.

"Spike? Spike, ... uh..where are you?" There was no immediate answer, although he could hear something raucous going on off in the distance.

He peered into the darkness, finally clueing in on the action happening at the far side of the cemetery. The moon, helpful as well as decorative, was illuminating what could only be Spike's overly-processed head bobbing about at a vigorous rate. It seemed to be a fight of some sort. Fight?

"Oh God! A fight! " He felt the brittle snap in his mind as reason finally gained control of his brain. He dropped the cigarette. His hands fumbled awkwardly as he zipped his jeans closed and knelt down on the ground to find his jacket and weapons. Another fun night on the Hellmouth.

Stake in hand, he set of at as good a speed as could be expected from a non-nocturnal creature dashing across a dimly lit graveyard. It was no consolation that if he died this night it was more likely to be from breaking his neck falling into an open grave than from being sucked dry or eaten. And for what? Vampire nookie?

And Why? It occurred to him there must be any number of good reasons Why. He felt he should review the reasons, right then and there, in a neat bulleted list in case closer scrutiny might shed some light on just what the hell he was doing here.

First, and he knew he in no way at all had he come to grips with this one, was the whole him-and-Spike bit. Spike. Spike and him. Spike and Xander. Spiiiiike and Xaannder.

A year ago he could have laughed heartily and pounded the living or undead crap out of anyone who'd suggested that he and Spike could ever have become a twosome. Or a nearsome. Or even a talking-cordially some.

Of course, it was all Buffy's fault. It had to be. Buffy had a lot to answer for, and if her life ever settled down Xander intended to call her on it. Little Miss Do-Gooder making them roomies again, carelessly setting the stage for nature and irresponsible hormones to chart their own unbridled course heedless of propriety and any recognition of common sense.

He wasn't even sure how it had started. One minute it was all about arguing over how to load the dishwasher properly and how certain non-rent payers had to damn well wait their non-deserving turn for the TV remote, and then the next it was suddenly about ripping off of the shirts and rolling around on the living room floor trying to suck each others tongues out.

He couldn't even clearly remember who had pounced first. Whatever. One of them had, and the other hadn't tried terribly hard to escape. A token protest, maybe, but accompanied by deceitful roaming hands.

And then, over a course of a few rocky weeks, just as the relationship had sweetly progressed from a lets fuck and then pretend to ignore each other phase and to a you know we could just try lying here together afterwards phase Buffy had cruelly sent a half dozen SITs over to bunk with them. It was hard, after that, to sneak in more than a quick grope and an occasional flick of tongue.

For some reason they didn't have the time or sense to get a motel room, so it was fortunate that Spike was familiar with many comfy corners in local graveyards. They came in handy during long patrols.

Secondly... and there wasn't time to think of secondly, because he was there, although he still didn't have a clear view of what Spike was fighting. Turok-han? Harbinger? Or maybe...no...Oh God, was it Buffy?

"Buffy? Is that you? Don't kill him! " He dodged around headstones and over discarded floral arrangements, keeping his balance as best as he could. It was only sheer luck that had allowed him to make it that far upright, and he lost out at the last moment to a display of small glass candles stacked on a tombstone.

The second last thing he saw before his face hit the dirt were two surprised vampire faces staring at him, the last thing he saw was one of them disappearing in a puffy cloud of dust.

He felt the rush of something coming towards him, and a second later he was yanked up and pinned against another handy mausoleum. "Where you goin' pet? I wasn't finished. And why were you yelling for Buffy? What, don't think I can protect you?" Spike's face morphed back to human as his mouth pushed roughly against Xander's.

"Ummph," said Xander, who hadn't had the chance to grab a breath. Spike pressed closer, the length of his body pushing him into the wall. His mouth moved down Xander's neck, gently biting at the skin.

At a loss for words, Xander reached out and tugged at a few strands of blond hair, twirling it gently in his fingers. After a second he gave into compulsion and ran both his hands through Spike's hair to brush away out the vampiric dustiness.

"You know, if we did this indoors, somewhere safe, you could give me your full and undivided attention." For good measure he tugged at Spike's ears.

Spike, irked that his technique had been criticized, scowled at him. "What did you want me to do? Just ignore things and let the likes of him wander around eating people. I'm good now, you have to live with that." He leaned forward and trailed a tongue over the top of Xander's collarbone, his hands traced a pattern much farther south.

"You are in no way good, you are evil, evil, evil. And you have me in some sort of evil vampire thrall. It's the only logical explanation."

"Right, I'm evil. I'll just do this then, an' you keep watch." Spike tongue continued on its downward path as his hands settled on Xander's hips.

"That just proves you're still evil," gasped Xander. He leaned back against the crypt wall while pushing his hips forward.

Spike had the knack of looking shocked down to a fine art. "If you’re the one in thrall why am I the always one on my knees. And when was the last time I made you eat a bug."

"I have to warm up your blood in the microwave, that's just as bad as bug eating. Worse, even. Sometimes I use the good china. And I always let you watch what you want on TV and never complain."

Spike, who didn't seem to accept this as proof of subservience, sniffed derisively. "So what. We always watch the same things anyway when either of us can get near the bloody set. Oh, and I'm going to do more of this, an' not pay any attention to anything else. Are you watching out for evil things?"

"Just the immediate one, thanks." He pulled Spike's face closer to his and leaned in for a deep kiss. They stayed like that until Xander had to stop and gasp for breath again.

Spike pulled back slightly, his face impassive. "When you were yelling... Why did you think it was Buffy trying to kill me? "

"Oh come on. She'd be totally pissed at me stealing her ex-boyfriend. I mean, did you heard how she complained when Cordy went to work with Angel. And then Faith showed up in L.A. It was all...oh.. never mind, it was just bad.. Anyway, she'd be all righteous and probably dust you, because it doesn’t matter if you're all good now and have a soul you're because you're still her ex-boyfriend and she thinks she owns you.

They regarded each other silently for a moment; then Spike ducked his head and almost turned away from him. He seemed to change his mind at the last instant, then he reached out for Xander's arms and pulled him down to sit with him on the ground. They sat there together, hip to hip, with the long length of their legs touching. It was minutes before Spike spoke again.

"I'm not hers, well not in that way anymore. She understands that."

"But you still do everything she asks you to."

"She only wants what's right. I help her do it. So do you. It's what we all do."

Xander took a while to think, but it really wasn't anything he hadn't considered before. "We have to tell her. I can't spend what could be the very little left of my life hiding behind gravestones."

The cool blue eyes met his directly., the expression was guarded. "She knows, pet. Has for weeks."

Xander felt as though the bottom dropped out of his stomach "Buffy? You told Buffy?"

Spike turned his head away. "No, pet, I couldn't. I made Dawn do it"

Xander scrabbled quickly to his feet, looking down in shock at the vampire. "Dawn? You told Dawn. Dawn knows? Dawn can't know this, this is not a Dawn knowing thing."

Spike just glared up at him, a slight smile on his lips. "She figured it out. She's very perceptive."

"Dawn is per.. wait.. you're lying! "

No.. okay, Yes. About Dawn, not Buffy. Only Buffy knows." Spike looked entirely pleased with himself. "You feel better about it now?"

Xander tried his best to stare menacingly, but knew he was failing miserably. With nothing better to do he sat down again. "You're an evil thing, you know that, right?"

"Yes," said Spike sadly. "But I've got a lovely yummy bug for you." He yelped in shock as Xander suddenly poked him in the chest with the flat end of the stake and pushed him over onto the ground. They rolled about a few times, limbs flailing, then finally came to rest in a languid heap of arms and legs.

Xander closed his eyes as they settled, pulling hard for breath as Spike's full weight draped across his body. He wrapped his arms around his waist , turning them onto their sides, then pushed his head under Spike's chin. "So," he asked him. "How did Buffy find out. She never said anything to me. Not a word."

"Well," muttered Spike thoughfully. "If we'd wanted to keep it a secret from the Slayer, we'd have done better to avoid snogging in her stomping ground." He hooked a finger under Xander's chin and tilted his head up. "She cornered me one night and read me the riot act about you being all special an such and how I'd better not make you cry or all weepy or anything. Right? An' if you want to talk to her just talk to her, she won't bite... much. She's okay with it."

"Okay, that's good then," whispered Xander. There wasn't much more he could say, so he didn't. Not that night, anyway.

Spike sat up and frisked his duster in search of a cigarette while Xander lay back on the ground and stared up at the night sky. The night was warm, and moon was still looking pretty, so Xander gazed at it some more while Spike watched him and everything else. They stayed there awhile, side by side, waiting to see if something evil would show it's face.


fin


P.s. I also want to mention _dellamore who wrote me Minors at Nite, a Xander/Ripper tale.


Hugs to all and a Happy Valentines Day.

And thanks for the card, Sun!