Guilt, Horror, Love

by Kay Tee

Chapter One

Xander picks up the pace, runs a little faster. Dodges through someone's yard and those motion sensor lights come on, but Xander doesn't care. Jumps over a low fence, and hell, it's so light out now, sunrise could be any second, and Xander is *late*.

Finally hits the cemetery, makes a mad dash for the usual spot. Shouts, "SPIKE!" And the white blond head turns slowly to see him.

But the sun's just cracking the horizon now, and Xander can see Spike flinch. The dark haired man dives, feels like he's moving in slow motion but can't speed up because he's flying through the air. Impact, and Xander topples Spike to the ground. They both roll into the underbrush, safe.

Xander's sprawled on top of Spike, but he's not moving until he catches his breath. When he does, he just wraps his arms around the vampire and squeezes before pulling back to look him in the eye.

Xander was probably going to scold Spike, but the look on his face stops the young man. The vampire hasn't looked this bad since the beginning-- eyes red-rimmed from crying, lower lip trembling still... And Xander had let himself think that they'd made so much progress. Dumb dumb dumb.

Xander trails one hand softly down the side of Spike's face, asking,
"What happened?"

Spike swallows, shaking a little, and says quietly, "I thought you weren't going to come."

And Xander has to bury his face against Spike's neck, has to hide what he's feeling because. Oh. Shit.

The look of sorrow and desperation and apathy in Spike's eyes this morning was for *Xander*, not any of those other things. Xander made the vampire feel that.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles into Spike's skin. "Can we go inside now?" Small voice, pathetic, but he needs reassurance as well, and when they finally make it inside the apartment, Xander just folds his vampire onto the couch and holds him.

It wasn't always like this. In the beginning, Xander hadn't really cared about Spike, had just been trying to do a good deed. Or a decent deed at least.

He'd been patrolling the cemetery just before dawn-- the perfect time to catch those tired little vampires as they returned home for the day-- and he'd seen Spike. At first he'd been furious that the vampire had dared return to Sunnydale after what he'd done to Buffy. Xander had hit Spike, knocking him off the tombstone where he sat, facing east and apparently lost in his thoughts. The vampire hadn't fought back, hadn't even tried to block Xander's blows, and the dark-haired man may have killed Spike had he not realized that the sunrise had begun.

Xander had been hit by a horrible wave of guilt. He had kept the vampire outside so long that Spike was probably gonna be blasted by the sunlight. And apparently he'd broken Spike too, because the vampire lay limp on the ground, eyes open and blank.

Xander struggled to remove Spike's duster and wrap it around the vampire. At this point Spike had protested a little, but Xander just scooped the smaller man up in his arms and carried him back to the apartment-- but he only brought Spike there because his crypt was in another cemetery on the other side of town. That was the first thing that had tipped Xander off, but he quickly figured it out.

The next day had been spent watching over the vampire, though really, Xander knew he should just let Spike commit suicide if that's what he was so inclined to do.

The vampire had snuck out sometime that night when Xander had fallen asleep, and the dark-haired man had had to rescue Spike again that morning.

This had gone on for weeks before Spike had finally spoken to Xander-- besides the ever-present curses as Xander dragged the vampire home. Once he started talking, Spike spilled the whole story about teleporting to Africa and getting a soul instead of freedom and then returning to Sunnydale to die.

And Xander had thought, 'Christ, not another vampire with a soul. Buffy will be so pleased.'

But Spike wouldn't see Buffy, wasn't even spying on her the way he used to. Xander had asked the vampire about it, but Spike didn't want to talk about her.

Xander figured that was why Spike wouldn't return to his crypt-- Buffy often went there when she needed to be alone to think. Sure, Clem had been living there, but he had left after Buffy promised to housesit. Not a lot of demons are going to try to move into a crypt that reeks of slayer.

Eventually, Xander had gotten into the habit of swinging by the cemetery on his dawn patrols-- the only ones Buffy allowed him to do alone-- and Spike would just be sitting on the usual tombstone, waiting for him. They would walk back to Xander's apartment in companionable silence, Spike would curl up to sleep in Xander's bed while the dark-haired man changed for work.

Xander got off at four thirty, and would return home to keep Spike company. They would chat or argue or just watch TV until sunset, when they would part until the next morning.

Having company was good. Anya was really gone, having taken off to do vengeance full time. Willow was in England, 'recovering' with Giles's help. Buffy and Dawn spent most of their time together training and being uber-sisterly. And Xander... was lonely.

So Spike and Xander had grown close, that was fine, normal even, in a very strange way. After all, if Xander could make up with Larry, why not Spike?

Funny thing about that-- both had eventually kissed him, though with wildly different results.

Chapter Two

Xander eventually rises from the couch and carries Spike into their bedroom. He strips off the vampire's jeans and reluctantly leaves for work.

But Xander's distracted the whole day, just thinking about that-- "I thought you weren't going to come." Spike hadn't really been all that suicidal in the past two months since he and Xander had started their tentative romance. Sure, the vampire still waited for sunrise every morning, but he'd stopped fighting when Xander came to rescue him. So if Spike had gone from being fragile and upset about killing thousands of people to being fragile and upset because he thought Xander had stood him up...

And then Xander almost runs the electric saw over his thumb, and Paul offers him the afternoon off to "get your head together, son."

Yeah, Xander's pretty embarrassed, but on the plus side, he gets to go home to his vampire early.

Finds Spike still in bed, strips down to his boxers and joins him.

Xander closes his eyes for just a moment, and when he wakes he has that slightly shaken feeling that means he slept very deeply for a couple of hours when he wasn't planning on falling asleep at all.

Dark brown eyes stumble open, but go wide when they meet Spike's wide, concerned gaze.

"You're home early," Spike remarks as nonchalantly as he can.

"Yeah," Xander stretches, pressing himself closer to the slim vampire, "got the afternoon off. What will I do with the time?" Gives a grin and a matching leer to accompany that last statement.

Spike rolls on top of Xander, arms on either side of the young man's head as he asks, frowning, "You get hurt? You didn't get sacked?"

Xander's grin softens and he runs his hands up and down Spike's sides, "Naw, I'm good." He pulls Spike down into an embrace, and the vampire nuzzles his neck happily.

"Too bad ya spent all yer extra time sleeping, pet, we could've had some fun," Spike teases.

"Mmm, vampire kisses," Xander murmurs, turning his head to brush Spike's lips.

They lie there lazily like that, just kissing for the next half-hour until both are desperately thirsty, and Xander rolls Spike off him so he can get drinks.

The vampire watches his boyfriend go and sighs. He knows Xander's never been with another man before, and the kid needs time, but sodding hell, they've been kissing and teasing for two *months*, and all this sexual frustration's biting right into Spike's brooding time.

In the kitchen, Xander stuffs handfuls of Cocoa Crispies in his mouth while he waits for Spike's blood to heat.

Xander knows he was the one who said, "Let's take it slow," but this is ridiculous. Every day he looks at Spike and can barely restrain himself from vaulting over the furniture and just tearing all their clothes off and finally...

But that's where Xander's mind always goes blank, which is why there has been no vaulting yet.

The microwave dings and Xander grabs Spike's mug, carrying it and a bottle of water back to the bedroom.

Spike's sitting up, looking ready to be out of bed, and Xander sighs in frustration as he hands Spike the mug.

The blond watches Xander slump onto the bed dejectedly, and Spike asks worriedly, "What *did* happen at work? Why're you off today?"

Xander ignores the questions, twisting to look Spike in the eye as he asks, "Stay with me tonight? Please?"

When Spike looks away silently, Xander moves to sit behind the vampire, legs on either side of him. "Please?" Xander repeats. "I... need you. I was doing okay, and then you came, and now I can't... you can't be out in the... Please stay? Just for tonight? Just try it?"

Spike takes a deep breath before agreeing, "Just for tonight. I'll try it."

But after Xander gets back from early evening patrols with Buffy, Spike's gone. This isn't unusual, but Spike had said...

Xander curses and throws open the front door, determined to find his vampire and bring him back home. Doesn't have to look very far; Spike is standing in the hall, key to the apartment in one hand and bag of groceries in the other. "Spike," Xander breathes, and the relief is so clear in his voice that Spike realizes, maybe for the first time, what his early morning jaunts do to his boy.

Spike hurries into the kitchen, dumps the groceries on the counter and grabs Xander in a hug. "Wasn't going back on my word, luv, never lie to you, you know that," Spike assures Xander.

And Xander nods, but he didn't know that, needed to hear Spike say it, needs to have Spike in his arms tonight.

Xander's still so frazzled from almost being too late the morning before, and he just needs... needs...

"I'm going to bed now," he says hopefully, and though it's still pretty early for Spike, the vampire nods and follows Xander into their bedroom.

Spike tosses his duster onto the chair in the corner and sits on the bed to unlace his docs. Stands to remove his jeans and dump them in the laundry basket in the closet, and when he turns around again, he barely even glances at Xander.

But he does a double-take, because Xander's standing by the bed, looking nervous as hell, and completely naked.

"Well. Then." Spike clears his throat, then slowly removes the rest of his clothes.

Xander watches Spike watch him as the vampire approaches the bed. Spike's looking for any sign that this is getting too scary for the young man, which Xander appreciates, because no matter how much he wants this, he's still terrified.

When Spike is standing right in front of Xander, he cups the dark-haired man's face gently, pressing a long soothing kiss to Xander's lips. Spike's other hand rises to rest on Xander's bare hip, and after a moment of hesitation, Xander places one uncertain hand on Spike's opposite hip. Feels smooth, lightly haired skin for the first time. Runs his hand up Spike's back and then down to cup the vampire's ass, never breaking the kiss.

Spike sighs contentedly into Xander's mouth, guiding the youth to lie down.

Chapter Three

Spike sets the pace; slow and gentle. He grips both their erections in his left hand, jerking them off at a leisurely pace while kissing Xander. Always kissing Xander.

The young man groans into Spike's mouth, arching against his hand. This is perfect, this is about as much as Xander can take, still not too sure about actual sex. But really, he's not gonna break, and he wishes Spike would move *faster*; this is too gentle even for Xander.

He spreads his legs, trying to get some leverage to pump into Spike's hand, and Xander's gripping the vampire's back, nearly clawing at him.

It's too much for Spike. He buries his face in Xander's neck and begins to pull them off in earnest. The youth's still not satisfied, doesn't want the kiss to stop, but that's just too bad. Spike can't handle this moment, knows he doesn't deserve it, but also...

Xander's want is so powerful, so consuming, and Spike just wants to be gentle. Wants to pet the dark-haired man and be soft with him. Wants to never ever hurt his lover, the thought literally making Spike sick, and he pumps his hand faster, brutal now, despite his wishes, because he needs to get them both off and be done with it. Get it over with.

"Spike," Xander sighs prettily and a little wistfully when he comes, and it's all the vampire can do to follow him into orgasm.

They share one small, chaste kiss before Spike deliberately snuggles into Xander's arms and pretends to fall asleep. It's night and Spike should be up, out, but it's nice to hold his boyfriend as he sleeps. Their schedules don't allow them to share the bed very often.

Hours pass and Spike gets more and more restless, haunted now more than ever by what he did, what he was, what he *is*. And the look on Xander's face today-- God, Spike's *hurting* him, and he never meant to do that. Never thought that Xander might be a little traumatized by having to come rescue Spike every morning for months. And Spike knows what he has to do, knows he can't inflict himself on Xander any more.

So he rises, and dresses, and scribbles a quick note to leave by the bed. Feels bad about going back on his word, but he just can't stay, doesn't deserve Xander, doesn't deserve life.

Spike drops the note on the pillow by Xander's face and quietly leaves the apartment.

He doesn't go to his usual spot. No, this time he doesn't want to be found. This time it's really the end.

Spike walks slowly toward the cemetery he used to call home. It's very nearly sunrise and he's not sure he'll get there in time. Doesn't really mind dying in the street instead of the graveyard, but picks up his pace anyway.

A part of him wishes it was yesterday. Yesterday he went out on his usual rounds; spoke to a few contacts to make sure nothing really dangerous was gaining strength in Sunnydale, killed a few vamps, had a couple of beers in one of the town's danker demon bars, and headed out for the cemetery near Xander's house to wait for the young man to finish his patrols.

That's the way he had allowed himself to become-- not actually wanting death, but settling for trying to make the world a better place and enjoying his boyfriend's company. Sure, he toyed with the sunrise every morning, but he'd stopped really wanting to die a while ago.

Remembers the sensation of warm, soft lips under his, Xander's wet tongue darting out for a taste of Spike and then disappearing again. The morning after that first kiss, Spike had almost danced on his way to death. And when Xander had come to stop his daily suicide attempt, Spike hadn't complained, just followed the youth back to the apartment.

Yesterday Spike had sat on his tombstone as the sky lightened and thought about what he planned to do the following night. But the sky had gotten lighter and lighter and Xander hadn't come. After a while Spike began to worry. He'd been sure that Xander was through with him, was just gonna let him burn...

The pain inflicted by that thought was enough to keep Spike outside, watching for the final crack of pure light on the horizon. But Xander had showed up after all. Had offered no excuses, but he'd showed.

And he felt bad about being late, about worrying Spike.

The vampire growls to himself, practically stomping as he walks through the gates of his old cemetery. How dare he be so selfish? How dare he make Xander take care of him?

The man deserves a normal friggin' relationship, has no taste at all. Spike liked Anya just fine, but a vengeance demon was not the sort of person one ought to get involved with.

Of course, thoughts about Anya lead to all sorts of nastiness.

Spike doesn't try to spare himself that pain though. Lets himself dwell on the memories of what he's done so recently. He knows he deserves to have to remember it, deserves every moment of suffering. Xander had once tried to exploit that belief, had tried to convince Spike that he shouldn't let himself die because that would be like escaping from prison, skipping out on his punishment.

And Xander's right, Spike knows that. He also knows that he is a monster-- even with a soul-- and the world will be so much better off once he is dead.

He finds himself at his crypt and is tempted to go inside, have a last look around, but shrugs that impulse off, sitting down on the stoop to wait. Not long now.

Spike lets his mind drift some more, and doesn't hear the soft creak of the crypt door opening, doesn't hear the stunned feminine gasp. Can't help but hear his name though, when Buffy speaks it so harshly, "Spike?"

His head turns toward her before he can stop himself, and there she is. Bright and glowing and strong and beautiful. The girl he fell for, the girl he got his soul for. "Buffy," he answers, and his voice cracks a little, but he barely notices.

She looks torn between kicking his ass and hugging him in relief, which is really really sad, and Spike's glad the sun is almost up.

Buffy has a stake in her hand, ready to do what she knows she has to, despite some odd lingering feelings, but Spike's face is so sorrowful... Then something clicks. "The sun's gonna rise any second now," she states, seeing by his reaction that Spike already knows this. "You- you're killing yourself? For me?" Is weirdly pleased, and also disgusted by her own pleasure-- not at all an unusual feeling when Spike is around.

The vampire bursts out laughing at that. Overly hysterical, doubled over, whole body shaking laughter.

Buffy frowns, sighs. "Get inside, Spike," she commands.

And he does, struggles to subdue himself and walks into the crypt, just barely missing the sunrise for the second day in a row.

Buffy hesitates for a moment before following him. She wants answers, and she wants revenge, but there's still a small part of her that just wants *Spike*, and she's not sure if she trusts herself around him. Purposely recalls the horror and the gut-splitting *shame* of their last meeting, tries to hold onto that
feeling. She walks into the darkness of crypt, full of false confidence and a healthy dose of anger. Says a bit condescendingly, "So, what's new?"

Chapter Four

The alarm buzzes angrily in Xander's ear. Blech, he'd forgotten to reset it. He slams a fist down on the snooze button and turns to curl around his vampire, having no reason to go out this morning.

Of course, Spike's not there. Xander jolts awake for a moment, eyes desperately seeking out the vampire. But then the young man relaxes, remembering his unwarranted panic from the night before. He figures Spike's just out in the kitchen or picking up a pack of smokes at the 24 hour gas station across the street before sunrise.

Xander stretches lazily. It's nice to not have to worry about Spike killing himself, but Xander knows something's still wrong. Last night was... weird. The dark-haired man resolves to talk to Spike about it when the vampire comes back.

Xander snuggles into the warm pillows, reluctant to get up before Spike returns. In his mind, Xander'd had an image of waking up next to the vampire and calling in to work sick so he could stay in bed and cuddle Spike. Thinks that could still happen; he'll pretend to be asleep when his boyfriend gets home, and Spike will slink back into bed to hold him.

The alarm goes off again and Xander smacks the snooze button, realizes sharply that he must have fallen back asleep. Sits up, about to run out of the apartment, not wanting a replay of yesterday morning... then he remembers again. Everything's all right. Spike has agreed, at least just for today, to not try to kill himself.

Xander smiles contentedly and goes back to sleep.

This time when the alarm goes off, Xander seriously contemplates turning the switch instead of hitting snooze, but knows if he does he'll sleep in too late and miss work. Inspired, he grins to himself, turns the off button, and calls in to the site, leaving a message for Paul that he needs another day, but he'll be back after the weekend.

Xander lays back down, happy grin firmly fixed to his face. He can't help it; everything in his life is falling into place. He does glance at the clock nervously, but then immediately scolds himself; Spike promised, he'll be back well before sunrise.

Xander's eyes drift shut lazily, and he's soon asleep.

---

Wakes up a few hours later, frowns, and finally gets out of bed. He grabs clean boxers out of the drawer and puts them on before making his way to the bathroom.

Xander's pretty confused now, wondering if he did something wrong the night before, and that's why Spike's avoiding him.

The dark-haired man stumbles groggily into the kitchen-- sleeping in always makes him sleepier.

"Spike?" He calls out, but it's clear Xander's the only one there.

Trying to get a handle on his sudden panic, an instantly alert Xander rushes back into his bedroom. Would Spike leave him? Take off while Xander was asleep and go God-only-knows-where?

No, Spike's clothes are all still there, his books and weapons scattered haphazardly about as always.

Xander slumps down on the bed, taking a few calming breaths. There is a logical explanation for why Spike's not in the apartment even though sunrise was hours ago. And that explanation hasn't got a damn thing to do with...

There's a note on his pillow. Xander picks it up curiously, silently berating himself for not seeing it earlier.

He unfolds the piece of paper, relieved to recognize Spike's delicate handwriting.

He reads:

Xander,

I am sorry, love, but I can not keep my promise. I really wanted to be strong for you, but I think this is the best way to do that. You must understand, none of this is your fault. Last night was lovely. I really do not deserve you. I admit though, I was not ready. Do not come after me. You know I cannot refuse you, and I want to do this right. One last time, I will greet the dawn.

Take care,

Spike

Xander reads it again just to make sure he's not misunderstanding. Goes so still he feels like even his heart's stopped beating.

After a few minutes, the shock fades a little and Xander takes a few deep, scratchy breaths. He tries to be calm as stands up, walking slowly to the curtains, knowing what he'll find, but hoping, hoping.

He can barely make his hand push the thick cloth aside, but he does, because he has to see. And there it is-- the day, bright and beautiful. The sky is nearly cloudless, the sun high up already as noon swiftly approaches.

Xander stumbles backward, flinching at the light, and falls to his knees. He can't move any more, his breathing is erratic, and he needs to cry, but he can't, can't let himself.

This is all his fault. He was *awake*, and he just went back to sleep. He could have saved Spike, but he just went back to sleep.

He went to sleep.

Christ, he has the whole rest of his life to sleep, and today he just kept pressing that snooze button.

He just went back to sleep.

Xander closes his eyes, but the light is harsh against his eyelids, and he sees red, shapeless swirls instead of the darkness he wants. His mind conjures for him the image of Spike's face yesterday when he was late-- how hurt the vampire had been-- and suddenly Xander is sure that he did fix his clock. Spike must have just turned it back. This was all some kind of test. The ultimate test.

But Xander failed, and now Spike's dead because Xander couldn't get his useless ass out of bed.

The boy curls up on the floor, shuddering violently, but not crying, not deserving the release.

Chapter Five

Spike offers Buffy a small, ironic smile when she asks, "What's new?"

He sighs, looking around the crypt pleadingly, as if it could give him the courage-- or at least the whiskey-- he needs to have this conversation. He spots a bottle of JD by the sofa chair, but remembers Xander and decides he can manage this sober.

"Right," he says, taking a deep breath and standing a little straighter, "took a trip, tried to get the chip out."

Buffy's eyebrows shoot up at that and he quickly adds, "Didn't work. I decided to come back here, have a laugh. 'Cept without the laughing bit."

He watches disbelief settle on Buffy's face. That's right, he's not telling her everything, and he's not going to. The girl's got enough on her shoulders without knowing what's got Spike in such a bad mood.

Buffy crosses her arms. "You just thought you could come back here, after what you did, and you thought, what? That would be all right with me? Everything would go back to how it was before?"

Spike drags a frazzled hand through his hair. "No, luv, I-"

"Don't call me that!" Buffy interrupts, stepping right into Spike's personal space. "You don't ever get to call me that again. Are we clear on this, William?"

Her jaw is clenched and her body vibrates with barely suppressed rage. But the closeness is getting to her. Spike watches her nostrils flair as she takes in his scent for the first time in months. She still wants him. That dark corner of her soul that he once carefully tended and teased to the surface-- it's still powerful, and it still wants him.

"Buffy," he says slowly, taking a step back, "I know I was wrong. You have to believe me, even then, I wasn't... I was just... Bugger. I'm sorry. Right? It was bad, what I did, and I know words won't fix it, but... that's all I got. Sorry." And that's really all the eloquence he has in him. Sorry is such a foreign word, and no amount of soul-having has made it any easier to say. He wishes he could fix her. Unmake the darkness he built in her, unmake the darkness that was already there. But there's nothing he can do now except try not to make it worse, and really, he's not even sure if that's possible.

Buffy watches Spike's eyes, sees his sincerity, and asks in a low voice, "Why?"

Spike shrugs. "Just... lost it, I guess. Wanted you, and violence was always my gig... and I, I don't know-"

Buffy interrupts again. "No. Why are you back? Why were you sitting outside a minute before sunrise? You were gonna come back and not even tell me?" She's so angry, and she really doesn't even know why, just that it's *Spike's fault*.

The vampire is confused now too. Buffy's advancing on him again, eyes alive and daring him to say anything, anything at all to send her over the edge. Spike backs up, hits the concrete wall behind him, sucks in a nervous gulp of air as Buffy comes right up in his face, leaning into him, her arm holding her weight against the wall.

"Tell me, Spike, why you came here."

He opens his mouth to answer, but before he gets a word out, she smashes her lips over his, her hands fisting his shirt.

Spike tries to pull away, managing to say, "Buffy-" before she pulls him back to her.

Finally she releases him, tossing him to the ground a few feet away. She stalks over to where he's sprawled out. She looks down on him and sneers, "Is this what you came for?" Buffy moves before Spike can form an answer. She straddles his legs and pins his arms to the ground. "Is this what you want?" She demands.

She kisses him again, all savagery, and a part of Spike wants to grab her and just hold on for dear life. Forget Xander, forget the sun just outside the door, forget his misbegotten soul, and just go with this, go with what he knows.

But Buffy's crying, sobbing into his mouth, and Spike can't take this. He knows he's destroying her, and even if he doesn't love her anymore, he doesn't want to hurt her. Doesn't want to hurt anybody, but that's all he knows how to do.

Spike tries to squirm away, shoving futilely against the slayer, but she keeps pushing, grinding her pelvis down on him. "Buffy, no. Stop," he pleads the best he can against her lips.

Buffy ignores him, ripping open his shirt and scratching her nails down his chest, creating dark red welts.

She's tried so hard to get better, wanted so badly to be who she was years ago. But there's a part of her that craves this, needs the bloodshed and bruising that Spike's devotion has always offered her. And Buffy's hated this since she first discovered it; the earliest part of her to come alive after she was pulled from the grave, the part of her that forgave Spike immediately every time he hurt her, even the last. She knows this feeling is older than her involvement with Spike-- goes back to Faith; back to the Master's bones, waiting to be resurrected; back to Hemery High, burning slowly as the vampires who killed her first watcher screamed inside.

Spike struggles to stop Buffy's hands as they tear at the fastenings to his jeans, but she's stronger than him, and she seems totally oblivious to his growing panic.

Buffy tears her lips away from Spike's, lunging at his shoulder and biting hard, drawing blood.

His mouth free, Spike gasps, "Buffy! No. Don't. Please..."

She's got his pants open and has dragged them down just enough when she hears the 'please.' That one word breaks through the near-trance she was in, reliving the past.

Buffy freezes, looking up at Spike, seeing the panic so clearly written on his face. Shocked, she numbly lifts off of him and slides away, her bare bottom scraping on the dusty floor of the crypt.

Spike cautiously sits up, keeping an eye on Buffy as his fixes his jeans. "Buffy-"

She cuts him off. "Don't. Just... don't say anything." Her brow is furrowed in pain, but she seems oblivious to the tears still crawling over her face.

They just sit there like that, the moment stretching on as they mentally gather themselves together.

After Spike starts to get a little fidgety, Buffy laughs self-deprecatingly. "I guess we're even now, huh?" She says.

Spike snorts, but a small smile finds its way onto his face.

Buffy makes a weak effort at smoothing her hair out. "God, what happened to us?" She asks.

"Couldn't tell ya," Spike shrugs.

Buffy shakes her head ruefully. "Things are actually pretty good here. Dawn and I are getting really close. Willow's coming home soon, and Giles is gonna come back with her. Xander's kinda gotten into his own thing, but we're still... We're doing all right."

She flashes imploring eyes on the vampire sitting across from her. "I can't *do* this with you here. Please, you say you love me, just go away. Just..." Her faces scrunches up for a second and Spike thinks she's going to cry again, but she shakes that look of despair off, and when her eyes rise to Spike's once more, he sees the amazingly strong woman she was before she did a swan dive off a badly made pedestal for a dull goddess. "You can't stay in Sunnydale. I don't want you to kill yourself, but you just can't be here," Buffy explains.

Spike nods, admitting, "I know."

Buffy stands and he follows her. "Where are you gonna go?" She asks apologetically.

Spike shrugs. "No where 'til sunset. Then... have to see."

"Still got the motorcycle?" Buffy's smiling now, her eyes red from
the tears, but Spike can see she's okay. Unsettled, yes, but okay.

"Naw," he rubs his neck, "traded it in so I could teleport over to a guy I thought would take care of the chip."

Buffy's laugh is more of a loud exhalation. She asks, "You get anything at all from this guy? I mean, even just a 'Sorry we can't remove the government chip in your head, please accept this lovely gift basket instead'?"

Can't tell her, can't tell her, can't tell her. Oh, but Spike *wants* to. Wants to confide in her so badly... But he knows that will be the final blow, the last piece. And then she might not let him leave, and he might not want to go, and her recovery might not ever be complete.

Spike scuffs his boot on the ground, his fingers fidgeting lightly with the hem of his torn shirt. "No gift basket." But I did get this lovely consolation prize... "Not a stake to the heart either though, so that's something."

Buffy nods in sympathy. She takes a step forward, a little closer than Spike would like, but she's not angry now, so he's not too worried about what she might do. "You know, Spike," she says sincerely, "someday that chip's gonna come out. I know you; you'll find a way."

He says nothing, just watches her curiously, but his silence is an acknowledgement of agreement.

"And when it does," Buffy raises one brow seriously, "I don't want to see you back in my town. Understand? I don't want to have to stake you, but I will."

Spike smiles gently at the girl he once loved and will always care for. "Right. No staking the vampire. I'll remember that."

Buffy grins and glances at her feet before meeting Spike's eyes. "I mean it, Spike," she says.

He doesn't respond, just lets her kiss him lightly on the cheek and walk out of the crypt.

Spike slumps against the nearest sarcophagus, more relieved than he could have imagined. This was what he was more afraid of than anything else-- seeing Buffy again. And it went well-- for one of their encounters, anyway.

Spike lies down on the cement coffin. He figures he'll sleep here until sunset, then head out of town. Maybe visit LA and see if he can get some similar closure with his sire. They're both souled poofs now, after all.

The vampire shifts uncomfortably, wondering why he can't fall asleep. Suddenly he shoots to his feet.

Xander.

He can't sleep because he went to bed early last night with Xander.

And oh hell, the note.

Spike scrambles for the door, but the sunlight has him reeling back into the darkness of the crypt.

He swears loudly at the room.

There's always the sewer tunnels, but there's no access to Xander's building. Spike's stranded.

He throws himself petulantly on the sarcophagus he was lying across a moment ago and stares sullenly at the crack of sunlight streaming in his door.

There's hours before even noon comes, and all Spike can do is wait.

Chapter Six

The door to the apartment is ajar, and Spike pushes it open cautiously.

He crosses the threshold and easily lets his eyes adjust to the darkness. There are no lights on in the whole apartment, but the heavy blackout curtains have all been ripped down, and the streetlights illuminate the living room plenty.

Spike slowly makes his way to the slumped form on the couch. The vampire stands in front of Xander, taking in the powerful smell of alcohol permeating the room and the human especially.

"Xander?" Spike prompts quietly. He knows his lover hasn't passed out because the dark head jerks just a little at the sound of his voice, but Xander doesn't reply.

"Xander," Spike sighs, sitting lightly on the couch and running a hand through matted black hair. The youth doesn't stir. He's slumped over, naked save for his boxers, and a cool sweat coats his skin. This is bad; Spike knows it, and it's all his fault. Spike knows that too.

The vampire can easily recall his deal with Xander, months old now, and never before violated.

The youth had been drinking so much, and Spike had begun to worry. He had never been particularly fond of Xander, had, in fact, hated the sneering mortal. But this young man had become Spike's one tether to reality and life, and seeing Xander falling apart had necessarily prompted Spike into action.

Tending to Xander's budding alcoholism had been Spike's first real purpose in life since the restoration of his soul. The vampire had fought, soothed, cajoled, nagged, and finally just demanded that Xander stop drinking. They had made a deal: neither would drink when he was upset. Or as Xander had put it, "We'll only drink when we don't really need to."

That whole ordeal was what had made Spike see Xander, see his beauty and his frailty and his strength. See how precious the mortal was.

The vampire still remembers clearly the day he had finally done something about his growing crush.

No conscious decision had been made; Spike just swooped in for a kiss when Xander had turned his head to the vampire. The grin that had been on those soft lips had immediately faded, and panicking, Spike had begun to pull away when he felt Xander's tongue coyly dart against his lips and away again. At that moment the ache of all Spike's former life had instantly disappeared, only to be replaced by a worse, but more delicious pain.

That first kiss had been on Xander's cream-colored couch where the two sit now.

Spike strokes Xander's hair sadly, not knowing what to say.

At last, Xander's raw and broken voice croaks out tentatively, "Spike?"

"I'm here, luv," the vampire just wants to wrap his arms around his boy, but is afraid. So he scoots closer and waits for Xander to reprimand him for breaking his promise.

"You're not... dead?" Xander asks in a tiny, childlike voice.

Spike knows this is not the appropriate time for the usual response to a question like that, so he shrugs frankly and replies, "Not dead, pet; right here."

And to Spike's surprise and utter horror, Xander says the words that had been right on the tip of the vampire's tongue. "God, Spike, I'm sorry," Xander sobs, turning into his boyfriend and wrapping liquor weakened arms around him. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry..."

"Shh. Shush, luv, don't cry. No need... no need to be... you don't have to be sorry." And Spike wishes he had killed himself, wishes he could do it now, because Xander has been so so strong these last months, and now he's crying. Loud and hard, though he's got his face buried in Spike's shoulder to muffle the noise.

Spike feels so helpless, so *useless* right now, and he can't even imagine knowing the right thing to do here. "Xander," he pleads, "don't cry. Please don't cry? I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have gone, I..."

Spike is cut off when Xander raises his wet face and kisses the vampire hard on the lips; nothing of their usual playfulness or gentleness here. The salt scent of the youth's tears is only made worse by the liquor on his breath, and this is too much a replay of Spike's morning. The vampire shoves Xander away harshly, rising abruptly from the couch and pacing across the darkened living room.

---

Spike makes a few laps around the couch, not knowing what to do, but steadfastly not looking at his boyfriend, not seeing the look of hurt he knows Xander will be wearing.

The youth stands slowly, shaking a little, but Spike guesses that's just tension and alcohol. Xander wobbles over to the kitchen area, flipping on the light as he goes. He keeps his back turned to Spike as he gulps the contents of an entire water bottle.

"So you're leaving now?" Xander's voice is harsher than he means it to be, and Spike doesn't hear the question mark at the end of the sentence.

The vampire tries to swallow, he really does, but he just can't. Can't move or speak or breathe. He just stands in the middle of the living room, staring at Xander's bare back. So his boy wants him gone. Of course he does. Who would want a weak, snivelling, promise-breaking, vampire lover anyway? Gathering his strength-- Spike's had some practice at being left these last few years, and he really is getting better at it-- Spike nods at Xander's back and turns away. Walks to the door in measured steps, not going slowly, but barely able to force heavy feet to move.

Xander flinches when he hears the soft click of the front door, but suddenly there's the rage.

It's the usual next step in any Harris evening of drunkenness: 1) buy extra liquor from the lovely mart on the corner that delivers 2) drink copious amounts 3) sob uncontrollably and inappropriately 4) go into a blinding rage and take it out on someone you love.

Xander storms across the apartment, throwing open the door, intent on finding Spike and beating the vampire into the ground. How dare Spike use him. How dare Spike leave him. How dare Spike exist!

But for the second night in a row, Spike's standing right outside the door.

The vampire's leaning against the opposite wall, hands clutching his knees and head bowed. When he looks up at Xander, the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway mercilessly reveals his red, watery eyes.

The human stops in his doorway, just staring at his boyfriend. Xander's mouth twists in pain, but Spike doesn't move, doesn't speak, just watches the youth, wondering what he's going to do.

"Why?" Xander asks, which is apparently very funny because Spike starts laughing. The tears that had been threatening to fall flow freely now as the vampire doubles up in pained laughter.

Down the hall, old Mr. Weatherly's door opens and the bald-headed man peers out, scowling at the two half-dressed men in the corridor. Xander shoots him a dirty look, and the man retreats, no doubt to call the super.

"Spike!" Xander says harshly, and the vampire shakes himself, stands up straight, and wipes self-consciously at his eyes.

"Get inside, Spike," Xander sighs wearily.

Spike obeys, but the pure surrealism and repetitiousness of this day is starting to wear on the vampire. He says petulantly, "You want me to go, you want me to stay. Ask me to dance a bloody jig and I'll hop up on the counter for you..."

Xander listens as Spike grumbles to himself. The young man shakes his head angrily, trying not to lose his temper, but still very very close. "I never wanted you to go, Spike. I *asked* you to stay."

Spike snorts, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Right. You told me to get out, I got. You want me back in, here I am. Xander-"

"I didn't tell you to get out," Xander blurts forth uncontrollably. "I thought you were leaving. I mean, after last night, why would you want to stay, and-"

He's interrupted when Spike utilizes his vampire speed. Xander tenses as Spike kisses him, cupping his damp face lightly. Before the human even has time to absorb this abrupt change in the vampire's mood, Spike pulls back, but not very far. He rests his forehead against Xander's, whispering, "Never leave you, Xander. *Never*. Nothing wrong with last night, maybe have to try again, but," he smirks gently, "don't really think that's a problem."

This is so nice, good, perfect, and Xander is loathe to end it, but, "You did leave me. You leave me every day." He steps out of their loose embrace, watching for Spike's reaction.

The vampire sighs tiredly, running a hand through rumpled hair. "I know," he admits. "I'm just a stupid, pathetic, little wanker..." Spike's jaw clenches as he swallows the rest of that rant. He meets Xander's eyes directly and swears, "I won't do it again. Ever."

Xander snorts, "You couldn't even not do it for *one day*, Spike. Don't make promises to me you can't keep."

The vampire looks away; there's nothing he can say to that. He knows he won't ever hurt Xander that way again, but he has no proof besides the future, and if Xander won't allow him that...

"Why *are* you here, Spike?" Xander's voice has softened, but Spike still misinterprets. The human sees the hurt on his lover's face though, and quickly adds, "I mean, why aren't you dead? Your letter..."

Spike smirks at his own tendency toward melodrama, wishing he'd never written that stupid thing. "I wanted to. I... well... ran into the slayer. We had a few words, talked it out." He shrugs. "I'm really not going to do it again, Xander. I know you don't believe me, but I swear it's true."

The problem is Xander does believe him. The boxer-clad man steps back again, taking in Spike's appearance for the first time.

The vampire's hair is badly rumpled, his shirt torn open, and the last remnants of rapidly healing scratch marks run over his nipples and across his pecs.

"You're back with Buffy," Xander says softly. He takes another dazed step back, hitting the wall and leaning into it for support.

And this is okay, really it is. Xander has tried so hard to heal Spike, to stop the vampire's suicidal urges, with no success. One day with Buffy and Spike's all better. That's fine. That's great, in fact. Xander's glad Spike's got someone who can take care of him right, someone he loves.

Spike curses under his breath and strides over to Xander, tilting the youth's face up. "No, idiot, I'm not back with Buffy. We just talked, made our peace, like. I'm back with *you*." Spike takes a deep breath. "For good if you'll have me."

Xander knows there was more to their meeting than Spike is telling, but the vulnerability, the want and fear and... affection on the vampire's face is all too compelling. Xander leans in and kisses Spike.

The vampire groans lowly; this is how they should always kiss, deep and gentle and passionate. These kisses they share have always conveyed more than either man was ever able to say.

"You're not with Buffy?" Xander asks when he draws away, but he doesn't relinquish the embrace of his vampire.

"No, not with Buffy," Spike answers, leaning in for another kiss.

"You're not leaving me?" Xander evades Spike.

"Not going anywhere. Least, not without you."

"You're not gonna try and kill yourself again in the morning?"

"No more, luv, I swear it."

"Good, 'cause I'll fucking stake you if you ever-"

Spike gives up on the whole conversation, pulling Xander tightly against him as he kisses the youth insistently. They'll say everything here, this way, and the future, however unpleasant, will wait.

~Fin~