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Chapter 15

Two months later…

Xander stepped out of his apartment and trudged through the snow-covered sidewalk to the corner store. Being born and raised in Southern California, snow was something of a novelty for him, which was why he’d made the impulsive decision to spend the rest of the winter season in Boston rather than move on after his allotted month – he couldn’t seem to get enough of the stuff. While the locals were bitching and moaning under their breath about the latest storm front headed their way, Xander was eagerly looking forward to the dark clouds looming overhead.

The blizzard promised to be a doozy; the weatherman was predicting nearly two feet of snow, so Xander was off to stock up on supplies for the expected lie-in. It began to flurry on his way to the store and by the time he’d filled his shopping cart and been rung up, the light snowfall had turned into a steady stream of large flakes that began to stick to the snow already covering the ground. He smiled as he walked, ended up chuckling with pleasure when the snow hit his face and melted, leaving tiny wet splotches on his cheeks and forehead.

To the casual observer, he appeared young and carefree, without a care in the world.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

He’d not done much smiling his first month in Boston; it had been a rough four weeks and denial was a place he’d fast become familiar with. Better that than the long, agonizing nights of solitude he’d endured, and continued to endure.

It was one of the reasons it had taken him so long to write Cordelia. Just the thought that Spike might be privy to what he might say had made it difficult to put pen to paper.

But he’d done it, like he promised himself he would. With the Christmas holiday only a few weeks away, Xander figured Cordelia would either have gotten the letter this past week or would be getting it in the next few days or so. He’d been deliberately vague regarding his whereabouts, telling her only that he’d moved on to the next crisis on his figurative list, and that he was sorry for leaving like he had, without so much as a word goodbye. He’d left no return address on the envelope, but had promised to write again, and soon.

Xander walked up his steps and shuffled the bags into one hand so he could fish his keys out of his pocket. As he fitted his key in the slot, his neck began to tingle. He glanced around but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Huh... Weird.

Shrugging, he stepped inside and shut the door.

His apartment wasn’t something to write home about, but it was his, at least for the next two months. He’d even done the festive thing and bought a miniature Christmas tree that came with its very own tiny ornaments and set it on the two-seater table in the kitchen.

After he’d put his groceries away, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and took his customary spot on his futon and turned on the television. With nothing but time on his hands, he settled in to watch the Star Trek marathon that was running on the SciFi channel.

The snowstorm continued, and it wasn’t long before he noticed a bite in the air and snuggled beneath the blankets on his makeshift bed. The furnace only seemed to work half the time, which was why he’d gotten the place so cheap – it being smack dab in the heart of the city. He’d not minded though, just bought a few extra blankets to cover his bed; he’d bunked in far less savory places that hadn’t actually boasted a roof over his head and intermittent heat.

He was into his third episode in as many hours when a terse knock sounded at his front door. His senses went on full alert – especially given that he didn’t know anyone in Boston. He damn sure wasn’t expecting anyone either.

Figuring that it was probably some religious zealot – he’d been blessed with a few showing up on his doorstep, it being so close to the holidays – Xander didn’t bother to move from his spot. The knocking didn’t let up, however. In fact, if anything, it became more insistent.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and Xander finally rose and walked to the corner chest that housed his weapons. Whoever was out there was about to get a rude sendoff.

~*~*~*~*~

“Look, I’m not interested—” Xander began before his door was even opened. The words died in his throat once he caught sight of his visitor. “Spike?”

“Invite me in, Harris.”

“What are you doing here? I mean… uh… how did you find me?”

Xander couldn’t believe that Spike was standing on his doorstep – willingly at that.

“Can we talk inside? I’d rather not carry on a conversation on your front doorstep,” Spike sighed. “Please?”

It was the please that made Xander cave and open his home – and possibly his heart – to the vamp getting pelted by snow.

Neither said a word as Spike stepped over the threshold and Xander shut the door. Xander couldn’t help but think that his apartment shrank in size with the vampire there; Spike had a way about him that seemed larger than life.

“Want a beer?” he asked to cover the awkward silence.

“Real beer, or that watered-down piss you drink?”

“What do you think?”

“Watered-down piss.”

The two shared a smile.

“Yeah… alright. Whatever you have is fine.”

By mutual agreement, they settled on either end of the futon. The Star Trek marathon was still playing on the television and Xander stared at the screen, though if asked later, he wouldn’t have been able to say what the episode was about.

His sole focus was on Spike. How he picked at the label of the domestic beer bottle and dropped the pieces of paper on the floor. How he shifted in his seat attempting to get comfortable. How he opened and closed his mouth several times as if to speak.

“I take it Cordy got my letter,” Xander finally asked when he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“She cried,” Spike blurted out. “When she got it. You just disappeared and she thought… we thought… you were gone forever.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll have to take it up with her. She was pretty pissed. Still is, if you wanna know the truth.”

“And you?”

The words were out of his mouth before Xander could stop them. He could have kicked himself with how pitiful he sounded.

“Harris, if I would have found you that first month, I would have chained you up and shown you what it means to belong to a vampire.”

Xander’s heart rate kicked up a notch and his dick twitched. Thankfully, Spike didn’t call him on it. Who knew he had a bit of a masochistic streak?

“I don’t belong to you, Spike,” Xander sighed, saw Spike’s jaw clench when he happened to look that way. “You said it yourself, sometimes a fuck is just a fuck. We fucked. No strings. End of story.”

“Do you really believe that, Xander?”

“I wasn’t the one that called out someone else’s name while we were in bed together.”

Damn, I didn’t mean to say that out loud either, Xander thought. Unfortunately, his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

“What?”

Unable to sit still any longer, Xander got up and paced the floor. “Look, what does it matter?”

“Xander—”

“No… really. It’s okay. I get it— got it. We’re cool.” He abruptly changed the subject. Inviting Spike in was a bad idea; he’d been so close to closing that particularly brief chapter of his life. Now Spike was here and the hurt that had been a constant ache was back with a vengeance. He needed something else to talk about, and Cordelia and her hurt feelings seemed a safe enough topic. “So— Cordy. How much groveling am I going to have to do? Is she still in Phoenix?”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Cordelia,” Spike growled as he stood as well. “I came here to resolve this thing between us. I thought—”

“Us? There is no us, Spike. You said it yourself—”

“I know what I bloody well said.”

“Then what are we arguing for?” Xander’s voice rose to match Spike’s.

“Because you’re a pig-headed git.”

Xander chuckled mirthlessly.

“I’m a pig-headed git? I’m a pig-headed git?”

“Yes.” Spike ran a hand through is hair in frustration. “I lied, okay? It wasn’t just a fuck. Not sure what it was, but it wasn’t just a fuck. I felt—” Whole, complete, he didn’t say. “But, I could see you starting to freak out that first night and figured it would be best all around not to overanalyze what happened. Blow it off as a one-off. Then it happened again, and you gave yourself to me.”

“No—”

“You bared your throat to me and my demon took that as acceptance,” Spike talked right over Xander’s denial. “And you said yes. So I took, and you gave, and it was bloody well perfect. What little there is left of my soul tried to ignore it after you were gone, figured you were better off not knowing, and as much as the demon hated it, I had to let you go.” Spike finally sat down, his shoulders slumped in dejection. “I can’t be with you, Xander, knowing you’re gonna die some day. You’re the last bit of my past, and I’d turn you before I lost you. And you’d hate me. Just as I’d come to hate the thing that I created. Me and Cordy, we’ve got eternity staring at us in the face. The Powers made sure of that.”

The room was deathly quiet in the aftermath of Spike’s confession. Xander stood there, his jaw nearly scraping the floor.

Spike was worried about him dying? He couldn’t help it, he started laughing.

“Spike, I’ve got a thousand-year-old hyena spirit inside me. I don’t think I’m going to be dying anytime soon,” he laughed.

“What?”

“The eye, the healing abilities, the enhanced senses? That was her making herself at home in my body. I’m probably as immortal as you and Cordelia are, though I won’t be testing that theory with any daggers to my gut anytime soon. It seems I’m not immune to pain. All the surgeons did in that hospital was aide my recovery along.”

“Were— were you ever gonna tell us?” Spike demanded, eyes gone a flinty yellow.

“I did. I told you that first night that I’d merged with the hyena. I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you. You’re a vampire for chrissakes! I thought you’d know.”

“Like I’ve seen a lot of demon possessions in my time,” Spike snorted in rebuttal.

“What does this have to do with anything anyway? There’s still the matter of you calling out Angel’s name. I’m not going to be some substitute because you can’t have who you really want.”

“When did I—? Aahh… so that’s why you got shirty. That why you left too?”

Xander nodded stiffly and Spike sighed. “Xander, I was dreaming. I woke up with a hard-on and you stomping off to the bathroom. I never once thought of you as a replacement,” Spike confessed.

“I’m no Buffy, or Angel. I’m just me. Xander. A guy that wore a patch over a perfectly good eye because he felt guilty for getting his friends killed.” He awkwardly gestured to the eye no longer encumbered by the patch. Sometime in the past month, he’d quit punishing himself. His friends would have wanted him to move on with his life, so he had. The last tiny piece of the Zeppo he’d been clinging to was dead and buried.

“Yeah? Well, I doubt I’ve got the soul I worked so hard to get. I still get my rocks off on the hunt – whether it’s human or demon. I scared away Angel’s son by telling him I was going to end up fucking him if he didn’t leave. And if you think that’s bad, I was ready to tear out Cordelia’s heart because you spent time with her, rather than me.”

“Really? Wow! That’s just… Uh, Spike, you do know she’s my ex-girlfriend. Emphasis on the ‘ex’. There was a reason why we broke up. If I remember right, it was your fault… sorta.”

“I never said it was rational. I’m just… I want you to know, I’m not perfect. Never claimed to be. I’m a product of my past. Just like you. I know you’re not Buffy or Angel… or even Drusilla. You’re Xander… you’ve been a bloody thorn in my bloody side for what seems like forever.”

“Just so there’s no misunderstanding.” Xander’s lips twitched.

“Pet, I think we’ve had enough of those to last the next hundred years. Now, can we go to bed? It’s past my bedtime and I’ve barely slept since you left. And this heart-to-heart has plum wore me out.”

Xander watched as Spike began shucking his clothes, letting them fall where they may. He hid a smile as he stepped forward and pulled on the bottom of the futon so that it converted into a bed.

Spike slid beneath the covers and Xander stripped out of his own clothes and climbed in beside him.

“Any chance I can talk you into coming back to Phoenix? Boston’s bloody cold this time of year,” Spike grouched as he cuddled close to Xander.

“I thought you didn’t feel the cold.”

“Harris, there’s bloody snow on the ground.”

“So?” Inside, Xander was silently laughing. A whining Spike was a funny thing to witness.

“Suppose we could stay here,” Spike mumbled. “Just means we won’t be getting out of bed until the snow thaws.” He plastered himself to Xander’s chest and sighed happily. “Damn you’re hot.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

“Later,” Xander laughed. “You look like you’re about to keel over from exhaustion.”

Spike grunted. “Your bloody fault.”

“Of course it is.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Right here, watching Star Trek,” Xander agreed, picking up on the anxiety Spike couldn’t hide.

“Good. Because I was serious about those chains.”

Spike fell asleep moments later, and Xander smiled at the vampire in his arms.

True to his word, Xander was there when Spike woke up a few hours later and went willingly as the vamp drew him forward for a kiss.

“Taste good,” Spike murmured against his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What time is it?”

“About nine o’clock.”

“Prolly should call Cordelia. Though, now that I think about it, I should make you do it. As a matter of fact…”

“Oh no!”

“Oh yes. And don’t even try giving me the puppy eyes.”

“But…”

“Suck it up, Harris. It’s just Cordelia,” he smirked.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Spike laughed. He continued to do so as Cordelia reamed Xander a new one, only stopping once he promised to come home, preferably before Christmas.

“See you in a few days, love,” Spike told Cordelia, having finally taken pity on Xander and pried the phone away from the boy’s ear. He hung up on her outraged protests.

“That warrants some kind of reward, don’t you think?”

“What did you have in mind?” Xander asked.

Spike leered and Xander delved beneath the covers to show his appreciation.

“Ahhhh… bloody hell, Harris. That’ll do.”

The End

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Epilogue