Sweet Revenge

by Jackson Rayne

Part Thirty - Six

Something was shredding him.

It was doing it very quietly because there wasn't a sound in this room but he could feel it inside. He was being ripped apart.

Rip.

Giles stood, he offered them some tea, as though he couldn't see what was happening to him. Of course he couldn't. Spike shook his head in a wordless answer. Xander's eyes kept passing over him, concerned looks he could feel lingering on his bent head. He couldn't look up. Couldn't stomach the pity that he knew must be lurking in the depths of Xander's eyes. Poor, pathetic, loves bitch Spike who just kept coming back for more. Refusing to accept what was painfully obvious, clinging on to false hope until Xander had finally been driven to disillusion him.

Rip.

He had barely spoken since it had happened. He couldn't fight his way past the shredding to form words. He had just kept quietly sitting opposite Xander as though he hadn't reached in his chest and torn his heart in two, listening to Giles translate the terrifying words within the texts and Xander's muted responses. Xander was being so quiet, like speaking too loud would hurt him somehow.

/Bit late for that luv,/ he thought dully. /No point handling the body gently once you've killed it./

He bit his lip to fight off the crazy urge to giggle hysterically. Not out of any urge to make it easier on Xander or Giles, he just didn't want to hear himself laugh like that; making a sound that he knew would be dreadful. He tried to keep his mind fixed on ways to help Dawn, but like self mutilation, he couldn't stop himself from returning, over and over, back to the moment where it had all ended.

~ "I mean you do still love me a little ... don't you?" He'd sounded so lost, so pleading, but he hadn't cared. The whole world had gone away, all that was left was this. A dark street, a dark haired lad and himself. Suspended in this endless moment, waiting for his answer, for his future.

There was a long, long silence, and Xander's eyes suddenly looked flat and empty, his voice, when it finally emerged, was cracked. "No. No. I don't."~

*Rip.*

Everytime the knowledge spiked him again was as fresh and horrifying as when they'd been standing on that dark deserted street. It was just too much to take in, his mind kept trying to dole it out a bearable fraction at a time but every time -*whump*- it was like running into a brick wall. His emotions had him by the scruff of the neck, shaking him like a dog with a toy. He swung from denial, to fury, to humiliation within seconds and all the time he was shredding, shredding, shredding inside.

He missed Dawn.

She wouldn't say much, but her small hand would take his and he'd feel, maybe not better, but not totally alone in this. She was the only reason he was still here, keeping his jaw clamped shut, bearing the humiliation, the pain, otherwise he would have let the whole world swirl into hell, taking himself with it.

Xander and Giles jumped slightly as the bell rang out, slicing through the silence as the door to the shop flew open.

"Buffy?" Giles said, indescribable relief in his voice. "She's back."

Spike looked up indifferently as the Slayer strode in, followed by Willow and Tara. Back in the game, totally in charge. In a faint way he was impressed. Well done to Red, if nothing else could go right at least now that Buffy was back they had a chance at saving Dawn.

"You're okay?" Xander was asking Buffy anxiously.

Rip.

"Yeah I'm okay," Buffy said briskly. "I hear you found the ritual text."

"Something like that yes." Giles agreed warily.

"Did you know ... Ben is Glory?" Xander said cautiously.

"So I'm told," Buffy nodded without a flicker of regret for her romance that wasn't. He remembered once - long ago, when he'd been in the throes of his crush on Buffy how the news that Ben was now unequivocally out of the running would have delighted him. So strange to think a violent, yet shallow crush on this girl had led him down such a bizarre, twisting path. What a long way he'd come to end up here.

Rip.

"What do we know?" Buffy asked Giles. She was fired up and ready to go. He could barely stand to watch, but was unable to look away. God alone knew how she was going react when Giles told her what he'd found out from the texts.

Giles obviously had the same worry, even by his standards he was circling the issue. "Um ... well ... according to these scrolls, it's possible for Glory to be stopped. I-I'm afraid it's, ... well, Buffy, I've read these things very carefully and there's not much margin for error. You understand what I'm saying?"

"Might help if you actually said it." Buffy said patiently. Giles gave her a small smile, he sat down, removing his glasses.

"Um ... Glory ... plans to open a ... dimensional portal ... by way of a ritual bloodletting."

"Dawn's blood." Buffy said quietly.

"Yes. Once the blood is shed at a certain time and place the fabric which separates all realities will be ripped apart. Dimensions will pour into one another with no barriers to stop them. Reality as we know it will be destroyed, and chaos will reign on earth."

"So how do we stop it?" Buffy questioned, refusing to be daunted.

"The portal will only close once the blood is stopped ... and the only way for that to happen is, um ... " Giles took a deep breath and looked up at Buffy as he dropped the bomb. "Buffy, the only way is to kill Dawn."

Silence. Buffy stared at Giles with horrified eyes as the realisation of what he had said exploded. In that moment Spike could read her thoughts effortlessly, because they were his own. If thinking logically and keeping cool wasn't going to help Dawn, then they were no longer interested in thinking logically and keeping cool.

It seemed odd that he was watching Buffy so intently. It was only later he realised; it was just too painful to look at Xander.

***

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

The chant went on and on in Xander's head, even as they talked and time moved relentlessly on. Nothing, not even the possibility of end of the world or Dawn's death seemed able to stop it, even momentarily. Not that he wasn't agonising with worry about Dawn or terrified about the impending battle, he was. The horror of the situation kept walloping him like a sandbag, but throughout it all, the chant went on and on. Was this what happened to people driven mad by their actions? Did they just have this mantra in their head that couldn't be blotted out no matter what, until eventually every defence was eroded? Spike was being so quiet, not once looking at him and each non-glance, each unspoken word played his screeching guilt like a bow on a violin. But hey, it was just great to know that when the pressure was on he'd lie his ass off to stay safe. A fresh wave of self-loathing choked him.

Liar.

Liar.

Li ...

/WHAT ELSE COULD I HAVE DONE?/ he screamed in his head, trying to get the chant to shut up - just *shut up*. Yes, he'd been a shit, but if he'd told the truth Spike would have talked him into giving in, and being with Spike equalled *pain*. He had to think of himself for once, he'd done the *right* thing! In the long run he would be grateful for this.

But right now it felt like someone with a cleaver was slicing his heart in two.

He looked around at the others. Spike had moved and now sat behind him on the ladder leading up to the loft, chain smoking. Willow was next to him sneaking looks over at Tara, who was slumped in a chair. Looks that made your heart break. Looks of longing and loss. The way Spike had been looking at him back at the gas station. Now though Spike wasn't looking at him at all. Giles, on the other side of the table was explaining the ritual again to Buffy.

"The key was living energy," Giles was saying. "It needed to be channelled, poured into a specific place at a specific time. The energy would flow into that spot, the walls between the dimensions break down. It stops, the energy's used up, the walls come back up. Glory uses that time to get back into her own dimension, not caring that all manner of hell will be unleashed on earth in the meantime."

Giles sounded so calm, Xander had to remind himself that this was Dawn that Giles was talking so emotionlessly about. Buffy looked grimmer than ever.

"Um, but only for a little while, right?" Xander said nervously, attempting to break the impasse. "The walls come back up, and no more hell?"

"That's only if the energy is stopped," Willow said reluctantly. "And now the key is human..." she looked nervously over at Buffy "...is Dawn."

Giles read aloud from the book he held. "The blood flows, the gates will open. The gates will close when it flows no more." He sighed unhappily as he wearily pulled off his glasses. "When Dawn is dead."

There was a long pause.

"I have places to be!" Tara shouted suddenly, making them all start. After a moment she settled down again.

"Why blood?" Xander said with frustration. "Why Dawn's blood? I mean, why couldn't it be like a lymph ritual?"

"'Cause it's always got to be blood," Spike said quietly. Xander's heart started violently in his chest at the sound of his voice.

"We're not actually discussing dinner right now," Xander said - a shade more edgily than he would have if the guilt hadn't been driving him crazy. Besides he had to keep Spike talking - anything was better than the unbroken silence. Spike's obvious misery was even more unbearable than his own. He looked over at Spike, whose blue eyes suddenly seemed fathoms deep. For the first time in a very long while Xander felt a prickle of realisation of how truly far from human Spike was.

"Blood is *life*, lackbrain," Spike said, but the insult had no sting. There was a rough, almost seductive tone to Spike's voice made him feel edgy, fidgety. It was so ... hot. God, what was *wrong* with him?

"Why do you think we eat it?" Spike continued almost to himself. "It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm, makes you hard ..."

Xander shivered slightly as Spike's tone slid over him, warming him in the very pit of his belly. For a moment a picture flashed in his imagination. Him and Spike wrapped in each others arms, skin to skin, limbs entangled and Spike was biting him, his fangs penetrating his neck, swallowing his life blood, not to kill him, but feeding off him, marking him. *He* was making Spike warm, hard. He pulled his eyes away from Spike, his cheeks flooding with colour as his insides squirmed with hot, strange, guilty desire.

" ...makes you other than dead." Spike's eyes flickered, as he seemed to recall *whose* blood they were talking about, finishing quietly, "Course it's her blood."

"Pretty simple math here," Buffy was saying anxiously, her voice filtering into Xander's head as though from a long way off. "We stop Glory before she can start the ritual. We still have a couple of hours, right?"

"If my calculations are right," Giles agreed, "but Buffy ..."

"I don't wanna hear it," Buffy interrupted turning away.

"I understand that ..." Giles began.

Buffy whirled back to face him, "No! No, you don't understand. We are *not* talking about this."

"Yes, we bloody well are!" Giles roared, leaping up from the table.

For a moment Xander was so shocked he forgot to breathe. He had *never* seen Giles yell like that before. He could go a good long while without seeing it again. The tension between Buffy and Giles as they stared at each other was so electric all the hairs on the nape of his neck were standing on end. Giles said more quietly; "If Glory begins the ritual ... if we can't stop her..."

Buffy glared at him, "Come on. Say it," she said furiously. "We're 'bloody well' talking about this. Tell me to kill my sister."

On the ladder Spike sat up, his eyes fixed on Watcher and Slayer. Despite his detachment, despite his shredding inside and his indifference to whether the world survived or not there was still a flame of passion, of protectiveness burning within him, all the brighter because he had so little left. He was with Buffy a hundred percent on this. *No one* was going to hurt Dawn, not while he was around.

"She's not your sister," Giles said sadly.

"No. She's not," Buffy suddenly looked close to tears. "She's more than that. She's me. The monks made her out of me. I hold her and I feel closer to her than ... It's not just the memories they built. It's physical. Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I ..." She stopped, choking on the threatening tears.

Spike looked down. It was different for him, yet in a way it was the same. Her the Slayer, him a vampire, yet in Dawn both of them had a little sister, someone pure, full of the innocence that their lives had knocked out of them. In Dawn they saw a future they would never have, but she could, and she was damn well going to have it.

"We'll solve this," Willow said hurriedly. "We will. Don't have another coma, okay?"

Buffy gave her a weak smile.

Giles tried again, in a way Spike had to admire his determination, it was bordering on suicidal at this rate. "If the ritual starts, then every living creature in this and every other dimension imaginable will suffer unbearable torment and death including Dawn."

"Then the last thing she'll see is me protecting her." Steel ran in an implacable thread through Buffy's voice.

"You'll fail. You'll die. We all will." Giles said quietly as he turned away.

"I'm sorry." Buffy said helplessly, "I love you all ... but I'm sorry."

There was a long tense silence.

"Okay!" Xander said loudly, as if he could wipe the tension by sheer effort of will. "All in favour of stopping Glory *before* the ritual. Suggestions, ideas? Time's a-wastin'." The room remained silent, but to his credit Xander ploughed on. "Willow, I bet you've got some dark spell a-brewin'. Uh, make her a toad? Little hoppy toad, we can hit her with a hammer?"

Willow looked dubious in the extreme, but Tara laughed; "Hoppy toad."

Duly encouraged, another thought struck Xander. "What about Ben? He can be killed, right?"

Spike looked up, *finally* a bit of sense. Hell, if he didn't have this chip he'd do it himself. Flat choice Ben or Dawn, Dawn would win every time, even without the end of the world hanging in the balance.

"I mean, I know he's an innocent, but, you know, not like *Dawn* innocent," Xander continued, trying to justify his reasoning. "We could kill a ... a regular guy." The small hesitation in Xander's voice suddenly had Spike biting his lip so hard it might bleed. He cursed himself for his protectiveness but couldn't help it. Xander's innate goodness was grimed somehow by those words and he didn't want Xander to have to make that choice, to live with the consequences. He shouldn't have to. Him, yeah, he could handle it, so could Giles, but not Xander. Suddenly Spike felt every one of his hundred and twenty years and more. Tarnished and jaded and so very, very *old*. No wonder Xander didn't love him.

Rip.

"God." Xander said in helpless self-disgust as he realised what he had suggested.

Everyone was silent, maybe for the first time they were realising for the first time that if they killed Glory it'd be curtains for Ben. Although it didn't mean much to him, Ben wasn't a bad guy. He had helped Giles, crushed on the Slayer. Despite himself Spike remembered the shock he'd felt as he'd stumbled on Ben's bolthole amid Glory's suffocating presence. He hadn't been expecting to find it there, but in a way it had made awful sense. Where else would he go? In that moment he had identified with Ben so strongly it felt like he'd been slammed in the stomach. Both of them had an intruder in their body. In his case a chip, in Ben's a Hellgod. Both trapped by events out of their power, and both unable to connect with anyone for more than a few fleeting moments.

Suddenly he was very glad none of the others had seen that room.

After a moment Giles spoke up. "It's doubtful he'll surface again this close to the ritual. We can expect its Glory we're dealing with."

"We don't have to kill her," Willow said as the idea occurred. "We just have to stop her from doing the ritual. I mean, there's only the one time that she can do it, right?"

"Yeah!" Spike agreed, Red had a damn good point, and anything that stopped Xander having that sick look on his face was gonna get his 'yay' vote. "We get her on the ropes, we just gotta keep her occupied till it's too late."

Giles sighed irritably; "But how do you suggest ..."

"The Dagon sphere!" Xander snapped his fingers suddenly.

"Sorry?" Giles asked bewildered.

"When Buffy first met Glory, she found that magical ... " he waved his hand "glowy sphere that was meant to repel Glory. It's at my place remember? It might drive her away or hurt her."

"Ooh!" Willow bounced in her seat impatiently as she pointed to the display case. "And Olaf the troll god's enchanted hammer. You wanna fight a god, use the weapon of a god."

With an assessing look Buffy walked over to check out the hammer.

"Nah," Spike said disparagingly, remembering how he had buckled under its weight. "That thing's too heavy to ... " He stopped as Buffy picked it up easily, swinging it experimentally. "Yeah. Good."

"I like this," Buffy said thoughtfully. "Thanks."

Willow nodded a little breathlessly. "Here to help. Wanna live."

"Smart chicks are soooo cool." Xander said, looking admiringly at Willow.

"You couldn't have figured that out in tenth grade?" Willow said teasingly.

They smiled warmly at each other. Spike looked away.

Rip.

"Well," said Giles, "we have some ideas, if we could actually get Glory on the run, but ..."

"But, we still have no idea how to find her." Buffy finished with frustration.

"Big day!" Tara shouted impatiently. "Oh, it calls me! I have to be there!"

/Calls her?/ Spike looked at Tara, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Poor, confused Tara, who could turn out to be their biggest lead to Glory. The connections finally snapped together. He remembered back at the hospital Xander had said that all the loonies had just picked themselves up and gone ...

/Glory is calling her!/ He opened his mouth, then stopped, he could see the same connections, the same idea forming in everyone's mind as they looked at her.

"Big day!" Tara repeated, twisting in her chair with desperation.

/Just like Dru,/ he thought ironically. /Madness leading the way./ His eye accidentally fell on Xander again and suddenly the hand he was holding his cigarette in began to shake. The horror he'd momentarily managed to ignore slammed into him again, two-fold as he remembered Dru - the *other* love of his life. He'd lost both of them, and now there was a very good chance he could lose Dawn. For all his big talk he was useless. Always had been. Unable to hold on to anything he truly loved, anything that really mattered. In the end he was always alone.

~"I mean you do still love me a little ... don't you?"

"No. No. I don't."~

He bolted from his perch on the ladder. Ignoring the startled looks in his wake, he stumbled outside.

***

Xander flicked aimlessly through a book Giles had left on the table. He didn't know why. He wasn't even sure it was written in a human language. Buffy and Giles had gone into the back room. He hoped they were making up after their row, time was too short now to fight. he thought ironically, and shuddered in disgust. He cast another desperate glance at the door, but there was still no sign of Spike after his swift exit.

Shame swept over him, what the hell was he doing? Dawn could *die*, Glory was about to end the world as they knew it and he was taking time out to worry about his love life. Then again he may as well worry about it now, if the world ended he'd never get another chance. Of course if the world didn't end then he'd have forty years or so to worry about it.

Forty *years*. A wallop of fear hit him. All that time - a lifetime - without Spike. The fear sent tremors through him, shaking the foundations of his conviction that he had made the right choice, like the world shifting before an earthquake. He tensed. He wouldn't let himself be shaken now. He had done the right thing. He *had*.

A hand dropped comfortingly on his shoulder, he looked up at Willow.

"What's wrong?" she asked, "You look sad."

He shook his head, briefly considered a lie then changed his mind. "Just, y'know ... Spike stuff."

"Oh." She didn't make a physical move to hold his hand or hug him, but he still felt a little comforted. Maybe it was a magic thing, maybe it was just a Willow thing. "I know this must have been so hard for you, seeing him again, you've been real brave."

Xander's eyes flickered as he remembered ...

~"You do love me ... at least a little bit don't you?

And his utter cowardice as he lashed back with a lie. "No. No. I don't."~

"Yeah," Xander's lip curled bitterly. "I'm a real brave guy."

"No you are!" Willow protested loyally.

"No Wills, you're the brave one. You held us all together today when we would have fallen apart, getting Buffy back, organising us all ..."

Willow shook her head. "I was scared, all the way through, but I knew it was the right thing to do." She cast a sad look over at Tara. "Kind of like when I first got together with Tara."

"Really? I thought it just kinda happened for you two." As he spoke he realised he'd never had this conversation with Willow. When everything had come out - ha, ha - about her and Tara, he'd been so caught up in trying to come to terms with it, with checking that Willow was happy with her, he'd never asked how she had felt when they had first fallen in love.

She nodded. "It wasn't as easy as you guys think. When I realised I was gay, it wasn't like I had time to get used to the idea, I fell in love. It was so scary. Sometimes I'd try to avoid her, then I'd lie awake at night hurting not to have her there, but couldn't make myself call her."

"Why not?"

She sighed. "I don't know - I guess it just felt easier to run away. I knew coming out wouldn't be easy, and after ... Oz, I was so scared of feeling like that again about someone in case I lost them. I thought if I didn't let her in then it wouldn't hurt later."

"Right." Xander looked down at his white knuckles. "And you had a point, because it does hurt now doesn't it?" He spoke rapidly, a hard edge to his voice.

Willow paused, he looked up at her and for a moment he had the spooky feeling she was looking right into his soul. "Yeah," Willow agreed, her eyes full of sadness. "It hurts. I love her so much and to see her like this ... it tears me apart, but I'm still glad I took the chance. Without her ... I feel like I'd be empty. Even now - I'd rather be miserable with her than without her."

Willow spoke quietly but each word hammered home with such force it felt like she'd blasted it on a trumpet. It was an attack, hammering away at him; every syllable was another tremor shaking him violently. So hard to keep his balance but he couldn't give in. He tightened his grip on his conviction and held on for dear life. He'd done the right thing. He had.

Willow was looking at Tara, pain and love mingled in her gaze and in that moment she was someplace else. "She's my always," she said quietly, then she seemed to snap back. She stood and gave him a pat. "I'd better go see if she's okay."

He nodded and she moved over to Tara. For a moment, just a moment he thought of Spike. Longing wrenched at him, so much longing he thought he'd die from it. Could Spike be his always?

No, no, he had to stop thinking like this. There was no such thing as an always. Not for him, and even if there was, it wasn't Spike. Spike and him together were *wrong*. In time he'd meet a nice girl - or maybe a nice guy ... No. He recoiled from that thought. Another guy, doing all the things that Spike had done to him was just wrong. He couldn't let someone else touch him inside, find that magic spot, when all he would remember would be Spike's eyes watching him hungrily as he writhed under his cool, skilful fingers, Spike crooning to him as he arched up and cried out, Spike coaxing out of him just where to press ...

No - if he couldn't have Spike he didn't want anyone else to touch him like that.

He'd find a nice girl, with dark hair, and brown eyes, green eyes, red eyes for all he cared as long as they weren't blue and it would be calm and well ordered with no mess or heartache and suddenly he could have cried. Right now he was too worn down and exhausted to lie to himself. He wanted Spike. He wanted to listen to him tell hair-raising tales of his past and bitch about people who'd pissed him off. He wanted to have Spike nicking his favourite chocolates to dunk in his mug of blood and for them to watch T.V together and fight together and make love together all night and all day, and he wanted the other nights as well when they were too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed and pass out but that was alright too because they were still doing it together.

The tremors were shaking him to his core now - but he still fought against them. He had done the *right* thing! He'd get over this, he just needed a little time. Eventually he would stop feeling hollow and hurting. Eventually he'd stop hating himself.

Anyway it was too late now. He wasn't as brave as Willow, his chance had been there on that street and he had let it go. Sometimes you only got one shot at something, then the moment slipped away and it never came again. So that was it, mission accomplished. They were finally over. Ex's. Good.

But if this was the right decision - why did it feel so totally wrong?

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He needed to get out of here, he needed some fresh air. He stood and walked wearily to the back door, then slammed to a stop.

The door was open and Spike stood in the alley, lost in thought, wreathed in smoke. A lump rose in Xander's throat. At this moment in the dim light with smoke drifting about him Spike looked otherworldly, enigmatic, and incredibly beautiful. Hunger, deep, aching hunger rose up inside him. He wanted Spike so badly, wanted to drown in him and never come up for air again. He remained motionless, paralysed by his love, his eyes searing Spike into his mind, the slash of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, the narrow blue eyes. And he burned. He burned. And for a moment he wished like he had never wished for anything before that he had never pulled aside that curtain in Spike's crypt. That he had never seen that stalker closet. If only their timing had been a little different, if only Spike had already burnt it ...

He shook himself, that was crazy. Anyone would know that was rubbish. It was no good building a house on shifting sands, it was doomed to collapse. And it was no good standing here, watching and wishing. On the street outside the Doc's place he had banged the final nail into the coffin.

He turned away, then stopped as Spike's voice floated over to him.

"I'm leaving, Xander."

All the air was sucked out of Xander's lungs as he lurched in shock, clumsily turning back to Spike, who was still staring away from him into the distance. "What?"

"Not right now," Spike said dully, "but when this is over I'm taking off, if the world is still turning of course. Get out of your hair forever."

"Oh," Xander said quietly. "W-why would you do that?"

Spike shrugged. "Why not?"

Despite himself Xander weakened a little. Enough to step outside to stand beside Spike and wait.

"It seems like the right thing to do." Spike said eventually.

"Since when have you ever done the right thing?" Xander questioned. It was meant to come out as a light-hearted comment, but the words caught in his tight throat and came out harsh.

Spike examined the glowing tip of his cigarette as though he'd never seen anything quite like it before. "Since ... well *you*."

"But ... but we need you." Xander stammered. "Dawn, she'll ... miss you."

Spike shook his head. "It's not enough."

"But ..." Xander trailed off. Wasn't this just what he wanted? With Spike gone he'd be totally safe, and if safe suddenly seemed like a very grey, empty, lonely sort of a place then it was a small price to pay. Maybe eventually him and Spike would become distant, like a dream, something that happened to another person in another life. He had a sudden surge of anger. He *wouldn't* forget. He didn't have enough of Spike to forget anything. Every kiss, every touch, every fight, every smile, he didn't want to lose a single one.

"We were only really together for one night," he said sadly, his voice speaking out as though on it's own accord. "I mean like a couple."

"Yeah." A ghost of a smile touched the corners of Spike's mouth. "Longer than anyone else thought we'd last."

"We had a good run," Xander agreed. They glanced carefully at each other and shared a tentative, twisted smile, but as they looked at each other the smiles faded.

"I know you don't love me anymore," Spike said suddenly. "I know I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man and that's ... " He paused, rolling his eyes self deprecatingly at his obvious trembling before continuing rapidly; "I had a night with you, a perfect night. More than I deserved, and ... I'll remember that night until the end of the world. Even if it's tonight."

Xander stared at him numbly, Spike's honesty, his courage was shining from him like a beacon, and he felt so dirty, so polluted in comparison, his stomach churning sourly as though the lie was poison, slowly killing him. Words were frozen at the back of his throat, but he couldn't force them out. Spike reached out his hand touching his arm, Xander glanced down, then up again in confusion as Spike suddenly threw his arm around him, embracing him in a swift, one-armed, chokingly tight, hug. Spike's body banged against his and he froze in fright, his defences almost broken. He held himself stiffly, his arms by his sides, too scared to relax even the smallest bit, for fear he would break apart in Spike's embrace. He briefly closed his eyes, somehow holding back the tears as he inhaled deeply, trying to store Spike's scent in his memory forever, yet already knowing it would eventually fade. What else could it do?

Spike released him almost at once and Xander backed away rapidly.

"I ... I'd better go ..."

"Yeah," Spike said looking away. "You go talk to your pals."

***

Spike waited until Xander had stumbled back into the shop. He glanced in and saw Xander was talking to Giles and Buffy, then fell into the small bathroom in the back of the shop, slamming the door and bolting it. He couldn't hold back anymore - Xander, repulsed and unresponsive as he had held him, just one last time, had burst open the floodgates. He turned the taps on full to cover any sound, crumpled on the floor, clasped his hands over his mouth and wailed. For everything he'd had - for everything he'd lost.

It didn't last long, the violence of emotion was released within a few wrenching, agonising sobs, over almost as soon as it had begun. He spent a few more moments on the floor, trying to regain his composure then gave a watery, shivering sigh. That was it. No more tears, he was tired of this. Bored with moping and brooding and wailing. Pulling himself to his feet on trembling legs he leant heavily on the sink and splashed his face with cold water.

~"I can make it right, if you'll just let me. Let me in. Please Xander, I mean you do still love me a little ... don't you?"

"No. No. I don't."~

He closed his eyes. /Alright./ He thought wearily. /I was there, I heard it the first time./

He still felt a wreck, trembling and hurting all over but the shredding had stopped, released at last. So it was over. At least now he didn't have to dread the worst, the worst had happened. Now he had to survive and as if his heart had decided to help him he felt a hardness, a stillness begin to build up around it like a protective shield. He stared into the void in the mirror, and although he couldn't see it, he could feel his jaw setting grimly, a new coldness begin to seep into his eyes. People couldn't be trusted with his feelings. *Xander* couldn't be trusted with his feelings and he was through with begging for scraps of affection like a kicked puppy. There was one person left he cared about and when she was safe he was going to get the hell away from this place, and never come back.

He gave his eyes one last angry wipe, and adjusted his duster, drawing some reassurance from it. The memory of how he'd got it had always given him swagger, and now he gratefully returned to that feeling, as though it could protect him like a suit of armour. He might be trapped behind this suit of armour, he might be bleeding underneath it, but anything was better than the flood of agony and misery that had been drowning him. Anything was better than being a broken, pathetic shadow of himself.

Powered by cold pride, he walked out with a semblance of his old attitude. So Xander had dumped him. No need to behave like a tortured, fucking wanker and advertise it by moping around like a wet ponce was there? He would get through this. He *would*.

As he stepped out he was just in time to hear Xander speaking to Buffy and Giles. "... got a few hours yet, haven't we? I'd better go get the sphere."

"Yeah," Buffy said thoughtfully. "That could be pivotal. Thank you. But don't go alone. I don't want Glory's guys grabbing you as well. Take Spike."

"Spike?" Xander said his voice rising with panic. "I don't ..."

"Xander," Buffy cut him off firmly. "Take him with you."

It was only later, much later, Spike realised that it hadn't sounded like an order, her voice had been too warm, too kind. It sounded almost like she was encouraging him. However at the time he was too busy feeling bitter at Xander's less than enthusiastic response to analyse Buffy's tone.

/No worries, mate. You'll be glad to hear even I get the message in the end./

"Okay," Xander said unhappily. "I've started keeping some weapons there as well, I'll grab some. I'm looking for something in a broadsword."

"Don't be swingin' that thing near me." Spike said sarcastically as he came up behind them.

Xander started, insulted. "I happen to be ..." he began.

"A glorified brick layer?" Spike finished coolly. Hurt and surprise flashed momentarily in Xander's eyes.

"I'm also a great bowler," he retorted defensively.

"Has his own shoes," Buffy agreed supportively.

"The gods themselves do tremble." Spike sneered.

"Spike," Xander said irritably. "Shut your mouth, and come with me."

Spike's eyebrows raised ironically, but he followed.

***

The short drive to his place didn't take long, but Xander was trying so hard to hold onto himself, to his convictions that he didn't dare say one single word to break the silence between them. Plus Spike's mood seemed to have changed yet *again*. Cold, angry vibrations radiated out from him making him tremble, an anxious knot forming in his stomach. It was a relief when they reached his place and he could get out of the enclosed space with Spike, and think about more pleasant things, like weapons and the end of the world. He hurried into his apartment ahead of Spike, desperate to put a little space between them.

"The weapons are in the chest by the TV," he said as he walked in without looking at Spike, only half paying attention to what he was saying, as he tried to recall whereabouts in his bedroom he'd put the sphere for safe keeping. "I'll grab the sphere."

He was nearly out of the front room when he heard Spike: "Uh, Xander..."

Xander turned back to him, and frowned. Spike was still outside. What the hell was he waiting for? Spike reluctantly gave him a small, embarrassed wave as he reached out, lightly touching the barrier of his revoked invitation.

In that moment the earthquake hit.

He'd been wrong. He'd been WRONG. The truth streamed though him, blasting his convictions apart as the feelings he had forced into a grinding, exhausting, completely wrong pattern swirled up and rocketed out triumphantly, unstoppably into the right one. Love streamed though him, a burning tide, healing, yet hurting in a wonderful way that he could never get enough of, revealing a new world before his stunned eyes. A completely new, chaotic, exciting, incredible world. He now knew exactly how Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz must have felt when she had been thrown out of her world of black and white into a land filled with vibrant colour.

He looked at Spike on the threshold, just as vulnerable and sad as he was, his trying-to-be-cool, slightly bitter smile belying the hurt in his eyes as he touched the barrier between them and he knew. Spike was his always. If they were together or not, Spike would always be the only one he wanted. The one he wanted to sleep beside and wake up next to. The one he wanted to talk to, make love with, laugh and cry, and even argue with. This was the face he still wanted to be looking at in forty years time, and it was too late to run. Forcing himself away from Spike didn't mean no pain, it just meant every day that Spike wasn't with him would kill him a little at a time. Worse, it would mean that for the rest of his life he would bitterly regret not even trying to hold on to him, and he didn't want that grey, miserable 'safety'. He wanted Spike - whatever that may bring, the colour, the chaos, the fear, the love, and fireworks, even the pain and the tears that could be waiting. He could take that chance, and yeah, of course he was scared, he was petrified, his heart was thudding shallowly in his chest so fast he could hear it roaring in his ears but here, now, this was his chance to speak out, and no way was he going to let it pass him by, because this vampire standing at his door was the one he loved so much he couldn't contain it, his eyes were welling up and glowing, his heart aching, filled to bursting and he loved him, loved him, loved him.

Spike, unaware of the earthquake taking place in him was still talking, trying to cover up for his flash of vulnerability as he stood at the door;

"Ah, if you wanna just hand them over the threshold, I'll..."

His mind was finally - completely clear. There was so much he could have said, so many pretty speeches he could have made but all he said as he took the leap that would change his life, was; "Come in, Spike."

***

Spike smiled with surprise and pleasure, as he stepped over the threshold. "Presto," he said softly. "No barrier."

He looked at Xander, who was watching him, his dark eyes glowing - like rich, utterly sinful, delicious chocolate. The warm scent of Xander's skin teased at his senses. He'd stepped in a little too close to Xander - and amazingly, Xander hadn't backed away. For a moment Spike didn't move, yearning wrenched inside him, so deeply it hurt, then ...

~"You do love me ... at least a little ... don't you?"

Xander staring back at him, sad, grim and utterly resolute. "No. No. I don't." Each word shattering his heart into a thousand tiny fragments. ~

In Xander's apartment the warm feelings beginning in Spike were doused as swiftly as if he'd been drenched with a bucket of ice water, and his heart that had momentarily softened at the unexpected invite, hardened again. He stepped away.

"Won't bother with the small stuff," he said, heading over to the weapons chest. "Couple of good axes should hold off Glory's mates while Slayer takes on the lady herself." He opened the weapons chest, poking through the arsenal within it, but he could feel the tension radiating from Xander - his wild desire to say something. He could hear the tiny sounds as Xander opened his mouth, closed it again as he tried to find the words. Oh no - he couldn't handle another scene. They both knew the score - did they have to go over it in excruciating detail? Xander's eyes were still on him. /Don't say it./ He willed fiercely. /Whatever it is don't say it./

"Spike," Xander began, his voice was shaking with nerves or suppressed excitement, or both. "I want to tell you ..."

"No - it's alright, lets just get the stuff and go," he snapped, staring blindly into the chest. In the periphery of his vision he could see Xander moving closer to him. He tensed himself up tightly. He wouldn't let Xander do this to him! Not again.

"No, don't stop me - you might not want to hear this after everything but I have to say it." Xander was right next to him. Xander reached out to touch his arm and Spike jerked away from his touch. Xander didn't get to do this - if he wanted to stand like a lump of stone when he tried to hug him goodbye, then he didn't get to decide touching was okay! He stared down at the floor, fury and bitterness clashing violently inside him. He didn't want this. He didn't want Xander to be kind, he didn't want awkward clichés and pity - it was unbearable, how *dare* Xander make him go through this again?

"Look I've got the message," he said angrily. "I understand. You don't have to say anything else."

"Oh yes I do." Xander's voice still sounded shaky, awkward, full of emotion - *good* emotion and it was so familiar, it pulled at him. Despite desperately wanting to keep his eyes averted, his head lifted as though it had been tugged on a wire. Xander was staring at him, his face pale, his eyes burning with all the passion he'd thought he'd never see in those dark depths again. "I *love* you."

Part Thirty - Seven

It had to be a dream, a joke, some cruel trick. Spike heard the words but they made no sense to him. Like he'd stumbled into someone else's life and he had no idea what to say, how to act. The seconds ticked by and Xander's eyes remained fixed on him. Watching him, waiting to see what his reaction would be and Spike couldn't help him out there. His feelings seemed to have been disconnected, leaving him with nothing but a frozen disbelief.

"What?" he finally questioned through numb lips.

"I love you," Xander repeated, wishing his voice didn't shake so as hope and terror squeezed his chest tightly and his heart beat with a rapid, shallow rhythm. This was the single scariest thing he'd ever had to live through in his life. He hadn't imagined what would happen after he told Spike - that had been left hazy in his mind, the big 'afterwards' that he hadn't dared to think about, but now he was living that moment, and it wasn't exactly the stuff romance was made of. Nausea twisted relentlessly in his stomach, and the feelings that were overwhelming in his heart sounded so dry as he tried to put them into words. It had taken him so long to get here - so many tears and angry words building a wall between them, that just saying 'I love you', didn't quite seem enough to break it down. He suddenly wished he'd had time to plan this - make some dramatic gesture to prove to Spike how much he loved him, because right now, talking didn't seem to be working. Still - at least he'd made a start. He only hoped, so fiercely it hurt, that he hadn't left it too late.

Spike stared blankly at Xander, searching blindly for answers on his face. Xander looked back pleadingly, hopefully. The same look Spike had felt a lot on his face lately as he'd gazed at Xander, and all Xander had given him in return was loathing and disgust etched in every line of his face. Now with three little words the game had been switched, everything had changed and it was all far too much to take in. He couldn't grasp it, understanding kept slithering away from him, leaving him struggling frantically for something to hold on to.

"But ..." Spike faltered, his voice sounding oddly lost in his own ears, "you said you didn't."

Xander's face clouded over with shame, guilt, and all manner of other ambiguous feelings that Spike didn't have the ability, or the inclination to try and read. "I lied," Xander said tremblingly. "I'm sorry," he added in a rush, "I'm so *so* sorry, I was just, I was so scared and stupid and ..." Xander began to babble desperately, words Spike couldn't hear properly through the shock roaring through his ears. Laughter, hysterical and misplaced, bubbled up inside him. He couldn't hold it in, letting out a sharp edged giggle that died quickly on his lips as he realized he'd never felt less like laughing in his life, there was nothing remotely amusing about this.

Xander's words dried up as Spike let out a burst of hysterical laughter, then just as suddenly stopped. Spike looked at him, then snapped his eyes away, seemingly unable to look at him, listen to him. He took half a pace away, then turned back. He literally didn't seem to know which way to jump, how to react and Xander had the eerie feeling that he was watching Spike recede away from him, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. Cold dread seeped through him. He couldn't lose Spike again, not now he'd finally seen the light - he *couldn't*.

/Please Spike/ he prayed, as his nails dug half-moons in the palms of his hands./*Please* sweetheart, come back to me. I'll make it up to you, I *swear*./

Spike began to pace about the room. He could feel Xander's eyes fixed on him but he couldn't look at Xander right now - he couldn't stand it. Xander on the other hand was seemingly unable to pull his eyes away from him, swiveling to watch him pace edgily about the room, and this didn't make sense, none of this did.

"Spike, I know it doesn't make it right," Xander said with a hint of desperation in his voice, "but after everything that's happened, I didn't - I *couldn't* risk it again, being hurt ... "

"So you just hurt me?" And although his feelings were still on hold *something* was sure simmering up inside him because his voice came out harsh and bitter - he barely recognized it as his own.

Xander shrugged helplessly, giving him a tentative smile that vanished as Spike didn't return it. "Nobody said logic got a look in."

Right. And maybe Xander had a point - God knows he hadn't always been logical when it came to love. Like right now; this was everything he wanted just handed to him. Everything he'd yearned and ached for in the pain-streaked endless days since Xander had left him. He'd imagined Xander confessing he still loved him so many times in so many different scenarios and now it had happened it was nothing like he thought it would be. All he felt was numb, hurt, totally disbelieving, and ... pissed off. All he could think was; Xander had lied to him. He'd trusted Xander to tell him the truth and he'd ripped him apart with a cruel lie just to stay 'safe'. He'd gone through all that pain, the final hug, the hidden tears, just because Xander didn't have the stones to deal with his feelings - never mind what it did to *him*, and now he was just supposed to fall gratefully back into his arms like nothing had happened?

Through his disbelief, anger mingled with humiliation began to rise as he remembered how he'd behaved. He'd been so stupid, so *pathetic*. Humbly glad for any scrap of affection, so sickeningly grateful as he'd gathered up crumbs of forgiveness like some kicked dog hoping to be petted again. A picture swam before his eyes, superimposed over Xander's stricken face. A picture of himself, hiding in the bathroom, choking on tears as he wailed into his hands, and every bit of anger, of hurt, was centered around that picture, what he had been broken down to thanks to this boy and his fear of being 'hurt'.

Fear thudded behind Xander's eyes, something here was very wrong, anger was etched into every line of Spike's face. A lump rose in his throat. He didn't care, he just wanted to go to him, put his arms around him and make that anger melt away. Do anything Spike wanted to put this right, because he loved him and nothing else mattered, but he was so scared of doing the wrong thing. He looked at the gap between them. So much love inside him, he was *burning* to show it, frantic to make amends, yet his arms were rigid by his sides, his legs unmoving. Why was he so bad at this? Now he had put his heart out there why couldn't he follow it up with something more than words? But he couldn't take that step closer. He tried talking again, even though the more he spoke the less Spike seemed to hear.

"Spike, I really am sorry," he repeated desperately. "I mean the way I've shut you out when you've been trying so hard to make things right, I'm so ashamed, but I'll make it up to you Spike, I swear ..."

"You said you didn't love me," Spike said again, and the bald, harsh statement of fact somehow cut through his useless words in a way no explosion of rage could have done. Horror slammed into Xander, knocking him momentarily speechless as he realized how their roles had been reversed. Spike was too hurt, too angry for apologies and for the first time he truly understood how *Spike* had been feeling these past weeks. Crushed with remorse, desperate to put things right, just hoping against hope for that undeserved chance to make it right. He stared into the face of his recent unforgiving attitude towards Spike, exactly the way Spike was treating him now, and shivered to his very bones with the ice-coldness of it.

"I had to keep you away," Xander stumbled to explain. "It was the only way ... I haven't lasted this long on the Hellmouth by being a fair fighter, I can't believe I did it to you ..."

"But you did." Spike said, his voice rising with anger, Xander's eyes widened in fright. "And you saw what it was doing to me but you just let me take it! And now you've just decided to change the game and I'm supposed to be *glad*?"

"I've said I'm sorry, what else do you want me to do Spike?" Xander asked desperately.

"I don't know!" Spike almost shouted. "Maybe there's nothing you can do!" And somewhere, deep, deep inside Spike was screaming to say the words that would have Xander in his arms right now; Of course it's not too late, yes I want you back, yes I love you, yes I've missed you so bloody much ...

But he couldn't reach that part of himself. He couldn't release those words and he didn't even understand it himself. All he knew was he was hurting like hell, choking with anger and Xander had caused it, so Xander could damn well make it stop, but right now he didn't even want to look at Xander, and yeah - it *didn't* make sense but it was just the way he was feeling. Xander was right, logic didn't get a look in here. Logic was pretty fucking far from his head right now, confusion, pain, resentment and anger had taken up all the space, no room for *logic*.

"You can't just drop me when it gets messy and pick me up again when you want to!"

Xander opened his mouth to speak but Spike steamrolled over him. "Why now?" he questioned angrily. "Why did you tell me this this now?" He cast a pointed glance at the clock ticking away in the corner, moving steadily closer to the time they had to take on Glory and the sharp edge of panic made his voice sound even angrier. "Because the worlds about to end and you know you won't have to put up with me?"

"I said this now because I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life, however long or short it's gonna be!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't have taken so long to make up your bloody mind!"

Xander turned deathly pale. "You mean it's too late?" he asked haltingly.

/No. Oh no./ Spike screamed silently. /Not too late, don't you say that - don't you *dare*!/

"Yeah." The word tasted wrong in his mouth, bitter like bile, and what the hell was he *doing*? But he felt driven, desperate to lash out and see how Xander liked being torn apart by a lie. "Maybe it is."

"But ..." Xander struggled for words, somewhat like the way he had on the street outside the Doc's place after Xander had torn him apart. "But ... you said you still loved me."

"And you said you *didn't* love me. I guess neither of us can both be trusted," he bit out. There was a sour ball of pain inside him, growing and growing and when it shattered he would break with it, but right now he didn't care, he was reveling in the pain he was causing, the pain he was *feeling*, because hate kept him going, kept him strong - it was love that killed him.

Xander stared at him appalled, barely able to form words. "Oh," he said in a choked voice. "I ... understand. I ... I ..." He trailed off, his face white, his eyes a window to an agony he couldn't articulate, and suddenly Spike's manic euphoria drained away. Oh it hurt to see Xander look like that, it hurt to cause - he had to get out of here right *now* before he shattered.

"Just .. go. Get the Sphere," Spike managed to say. "I'll wait outside." He turned away, reaching his hand out to the door handle, and all this was moving so fast, it felt like it was overlapping chaotically in his head. He opened the door and the cold touched him lightly, as he opened the door wider.

Suddenly the door flew away from his hand, slamming shut. He caught a fleeting impression of Xander's hand, firmly on the door, the heat of Xander's body close behind him as he whirled around to stare into Xander's determined eyes.

"WHAT the bloody HELL are you DOING?"

Xander's hand was still on the door next to his shoulder, he placed his other hand on the door, penning Spike in as he stepped closer.

"I do trust you. You said you loved me and you meant it. And I love you, and I'm not gonna let you leave," Xander said strongly. Still shaking, still terrified but determined. If he was being honest he really didn't have a fucking clue what he was doing, he couldn't exactly lock Spike up, all he knew with the kind of rare certainty that comes straight from the heart, was that he couldn't watch Spike walk away without doing *something* to stop him. He knew - just *knew* that Spike didn't want to leave either. Knew it because he couldn't love Spike this much without Spike still loving him at least a little in return.

Fury ripped through Spike in a vast, burning tide, and if there was relief in there too it was buried under his rage. How *dare* he? Anger roared up, boiling in his veins, spilling out in a flood of seething words. "*You* don't have a bloody choice! *You* don't get to decide this stuff anymore!" He advanced on Xander, and it spoke volumes for the look on his face that, despite Xander's determination, with every step he took Xander stumbled back, his eyes shocked and scared. He didn't let Xander create a gap, he was on him again, spitting words into his face. "All this time you've been looking at me like I'm dirt under your boots not even lettin' me apologize!" Xander hit the wall and Spike followed, *way* into his personal space, pinning him down with his furious eyes, not letting up for a second. "Who the HELL do you think you ARE? Do you even *know* how it's felt, loving you so much it hurts and you with your bloody 'stay away Spike' shit like you didn't care, like I was *nothing* to you? Torture, that's how it felt, only worse - at least torture only rips up your body! You tore me apart, you *lied* to me and now you think yeah, maybe you do want me, and I'm supposed to just fall into step? Fuck you Xander, just *FUCK YOU*!"

His voice was hoarse with his scream and in that moment he wanted to hit Xander so badly his fists twitched reflexively, but he wouldn't even make contact before the sizzling electric blue pain would shoot through his brain, his teeth and bones. Worse, the pity would be written on Xander's face. Poor pathetic Spike who couldn't even hit back, could just take what they guy who - supposedly - loved him would dish out, and right now he didn't know which of them he hated more.

He thought Xander would yell back, maybe shove him away. He didn't.

"Spike," Xander whispered brokenly, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek. Spike jerked in shock but Xander didn't pull away. Laying his hand on his face tenderly, like Xander understood all the rage and was transforming it from a rejection into a plea for help, a cry to be rescued. Like he was trying to make all the pain go away with a touch. Xander didn't look like he was pitying him. Xander was looking at him with a mixture of hope and empathy, remorse and desire. Looking at him with dark, hungry eyes, eyes that still made him ache, made him want to fuck him hard and hold him gently. Eyes that always, always made him feel out of control, like he was lost and falling into those eyes ...

"Don't." He wrenched himself away, backing away a couple of steps, his cheek still burning where Xander's hand had been, cursing his hands that were suddenly shaking. He wasn't going to do this! Wasn't going to just let Xander walk back into his heart like all the lies and pain meant nothing. He was hurt and mad, and if Xander really wanted him he was going to have to make him believe it ...

He turned away blindly, trying to clear his head from Xander's pull on him fogging his thoughts. Xander must have mistaken his confusion for anger because he called out after him rapidly.

"Wait! Don't go, just *wait* a minute, okay? I'm sorry - that was a stupid thing to do, I didn't mean to make you mad, look, we still need to talk."

Spike turned to look at Xander, yet he couldn't quite meet his eyes. "What about?" he asked bleakly, folding his arms defensively. "If it's another apology find something else to say, that tune is gettin' old."

"I know 'sorry' doesn't fix things," Xander admitted sadly.

"Damn right." Spike agreed, turning away again, but before he could take another step Xander's voice stopped him, suddenly ringing out strongly.

"And do you know how I know? Because I've been there - I know how it feels to be so hurt you can hardly *breathe* and you did that to me Spike - *you* did! We've *both* messed up here okay? Messed up badly. So just listen, you owe me that much right?"

Spike's eyes darkened angrily. "I don't owe you anything! I know I messed up but I've done everything I can to try to fix it - an' at least when I tried to break your heart I wasn't in love with you - what's *your* excuse?"

"*Because* I loved you!" Xander yelled. Spike snorted disbelievingly but Xander continued to speak rapidly. "I loved you Spike, so much, I'd have given up everything for you, and yeah, I was scared!" Xander's voice was shaking, but he somehow kept on talking, as though his life depended on it, and despite his anger, despite his hurt, Spike couldn't make himself walk away as Xander spoke so passionately. "You can get that right? I fell for you so hard I felt like I'd been knocked to my knees and I couldn't get back up. I've *never* felt like that before, and then when I found out about Buffy ... it was like ... it was like ..." He stumbled to a halt, the memory still visibly hurting him.

"Xander ..." Spike began, not knowing what he wanted to say - just knowing that it was hard, and getting harder with every passing second to watch Xander upset himself so much. To see him trying so hard to reach him. For the first time the words almost touched him; almost reaching that place inside him, beyond the anger. Xander loved him, and then

/Xander *lied* to me/

it was gone again.

"No, let me say this," Xander insisted, feeling sick, dizzy as the words flew out of his mouth, he couldn't stop them, and hell he'd already put his heart out there and got nothing, what did he have to lose now? "It was like *dying*, except I didn't get to die. I had to live everyday, carrying this dead thing around inside me and that dead thing was *me*, and if I hadn't loved you so much and it hadn't hurt so much, maybe I could have dealt with it a little better, but I did - love you I mean, and I couldn't let you do that to me again so I screwed up and tried to shut you out and I lied, and I know it doesn't mean much now, but I am sorry."

For a long moment Spike stared at Xander. His dark eyes were suspiciously bright, and suddenly Spike didn't feel angry anymore, it all drained out of him. All that was left was the hurt.

He looked away from Xander, staring unseeingly down at the floor. "I waited for you," his voice said painfully, dragging the words out of his heart like pieces of glass. "I waited and waited. After what Glory did to me, I thought you'd come. But you didn't. I waited and you didn't come." He rubbed his forehead in a quick compulsive movement like the source of his pain was located there.

For a moment there was silence and then; "I wanted to," Xander whispered, his voice had the edge of tears. "I thought about you every minute. But ... all the time I loved you, I hated you as well and I just couldn't see you right then, I wasn't ready. I wish I had been Spike, I wish it hadn't taken me so long to get here ... but I'm here now, and not because I think the worlds gonna end. Just because I want to be. I love you."

Spike didn't look up, but he didn't make any move to leave again and Xander cautiously moved closer. "I knew, just now, when you were at the door, and couldn't get in without an invite. Everything just suddenly got so clear. I could keep on shutting you out - or I could let you in." Closer. Touching close now. Still talking softly - like Spike was a nervous animal that could bolt any second. "And the thing is Spike - you're already in - here I mean." He briefly touched his chest where his heart thudded swiftly. "I've tried so hard to stop loving you - but I can't, and I don't want to run away from it ever again."

"'Cos now you know I won't hurt you?" Spike suggested dully. He'd meant to sound sarcastic, but he just sounded sad. He wanted to believe Xander, he wanted to believe him so *much*, but he didn't. How could he when Xander was trying to ask for guarantees of safety and painlessness? There were no guarantees - the only promise he could make was that he loved this boy - loved him so much sometimes he thought he would die of it, but Xander would never settle for that.

"No," Xander said surprisingly. "I don't *know* you won't hurt me. But I believe you won't, and I can take the chance. Yeah it's scary, but it's okay, everything's okay if I'm with you."

Spike rolled his eyes ironically to hide that his throat suddenly felt tight. "Even being knocked to your knees?"

There was a moments silence, then; "Lets see shall we?"

And Spike's eyes widened in shock as Xander slowly sank to the floor.

"Xander ..?" Spike gasped in a faint question.

"See?" Xander said lightly. "This isn't so bad. I mean we might get some strange looks but ..." Spike almost smiled, then felt all levity fade away as he looked at Xander who was watching him, his dark eyes burning with intensity. "Still love you Spike," Xander said without a hint of laughter in his voice. "Still on my knees loving you. I know I'll never get back up, and that's okay. I forgave you. Forgive me now. Please come back to me."

Xander rested his head lightly against his belly and Spike felt his hand twitch, just a little, towards Xander's dark hair before it stilled again. He bit his lip, closing his eyes. He couldn't look at Xander, so bravely using more than words to try to reach him. He wanted to respond so badly, to tell him he did still love him, of course he did, he'd never *stop* loving him but he couldn't force out the words, couldn't send the command to his hand to move. It was like being paralyzed in an abyss, unable to grasp the hand outstretched to rescue him. Here he was with Xander, who was *begging* him to take him back, and yet he wasn't saying yes. He *wanted* to say it - the word was a bubble just waiting to pop out of his mouth, yet it wouldn't come out.

"So what do you ... want Xander?" /Me. Say you want me. Just me./ He silently begged.

Through the fabric of his T-shirt he could feel the moment of Xander's mouth.

"Maybe ... if we don't all die horribly tonight, we could go for a coffee. Watch a movie. Y'know, take it real slow, get it right this time."

Slow. Tentative. Halfhearted. Spike beat back a lump in his throat. It wasn't *enough*. Despite Xander begging so prettily, nothing had changed. Even assuming that they *didn't* all die tonight Xander would never really trust him again, he'd always be hedging around having an actual relationship, keeping him at arms length, and Spike couldn't live like that. He'd always be on edge, scared of doing anything to rock the boat - having to back down from the fights that would inevitably rise up about important stuff for fear Xander would get scared and leave him.

"Or maybe," Xander continued quietly, "we could ..."

He jerked slightly with shock as Xander's hand slid up his leg in a motion that was undeniably a caress. A caress that was neither tentative, or half-hearted. Spike's eyes snapped open, looking down at Xander. Xander looked back up at him. A stillness settled around them, their eyes locked on each others. The air seemed to thicken, to pulse as slow waves of sexual heat began to emanate between them, sending fizzles of sensation right to his groin. Xander's hands moved up to his belt, shaking slightly he unfastened it, the slap of the leather loud in the quiet of the room.

"What, what are you doing?" Spike stammered, as Xander popped open the buttons on his jeans, one at a time, easing his jeans down. Delicious freedom as his cock was released from it's constraints, Xander's warm hands stroking his thighs, and though he didn't mean too, he shifted impatiently, trying to make Xander's hands brush over his cock, as though he just can't wait. Like he's begging to be touched because as confusing as all this is his cock isn't confused - not one bit. It's hardening, arching towards Xander's mouth like it knows just where it want to be.

"Obvious innit?" Xander said, looking up at him briefly with a twisted smile as he quoted what Spike had said to him so long ago when this had all began. "I'm trying to seduce you."

And Xander closed his mouth around him.

"Oh hell. Oh *hell*."

His voice was harsh, escaping from his tight throat. His legs buckled but Xander held him up, his hands tight on Spike's hips, his mouth moving over him, taking him in deep, and oh *hell*.

"Hell, *Xander*,"

This was impossible, but it was happening. Xander was making love to him with his mouth, his hands and in all his life he'd never felt so *confused*. And hot. And shaking. And it's so *good*, it's *Xander* kneeling in front of him, making those sweet, wet, sucking sounds. How the hell has this happened? His mind is something that keeps slipping away from him as Xander's tongue traces a hard line from the base of his cock, up his shaft before lapping at the head again. So bittersweet, and filling him with a hot painful ache, and he *wants* - oh, yes he does want, he just doesn't know what to do about it ...

Spike's legs were trembling, his harsh gasps and muttered curses filling the air and Xander wanted to stop for a second. Wanted to ask if he was okay - wanted to see the look that was in Spike's eyes right now, but he couldn't stop - not while this was happening. Not while Spike was letting him touch him and liking it - and he loves Spike, loves him, loves him, loves him. But he can't say that, not right now, not with words, but he can still use his mouth to show him, can try to make this feel so good for Spike he'll somehow just *know* and never try to walk away again ...

And making love to Spike again, surrounded by his scent - the incredible taste of sex and skin, of pure *Spike* that he's missed so fucking much - being this close to Spike has got him so *hard*. It's been so long and if he thought he'd ever get a chance to do this again he'd wait of course he would, but he doesn't know if he'll ever be this close to Spike again and he can't stop himself. Keeping one hand on Spike's hip he slides his other hand down, clumsily opening his jeans. Feeling a twinge of guilt 'cos it almost feels like he's molesting Spike here, but oh, he tastes so good and smells so good and feels so good and he wants him so bad, wants them to connect together just once more ...

He reaches in freeing himself and oh. *Yes*. He takes a moment to wish it was Spike's hand moving on him, and he's moaning around Spike's cock as he begins to ...

Holy fuck, was Xander really ...? Spike couldn't help it - he moaned as the scent of Xander began to swim into the air, listening to the soft, slick sounds of Xander moving his hand on himself and oh he wishes he could see, could watch what Xander's doing to himself, but that would mean making Xander move his mouth away and that would be bad, because Xander's mouth was so hot, and wet, and every touch, every movement has an edge of hungry desperation, like Xander is scared this is never going to happen again, and he has to do all he can before its over ...

"Xander - oh *hell Xander*," his voice choked out again, but it wasn't hell. It was heaven. Xander sucking, knowing just where to probe with his tongue to make him gasp, make him close, make his balls tighten, and somehow the wet, scorching heat of Xander's mouth enveloping him meant more than words - and more - so much more than just a blowjob. It was Xander reaching out to him, hauling him out of the abyss and beyond it was heat and home and *Xander* who *loved* him, and suddenly the distrust holding him back dissolved, melted away be the fire of Xander's love, and he believed him, he was free, he was *there*. He reached out, twining his fingers in Xander's hair holding him where he most wanted him, as the words finally came tumbling out of his mouth;

"Oh ... oh so *good* Xander! Oh God, Xander I love you, I do, I love you so *much* ..."

And they should stop now and discuss what this meant, but the room was spinning around him and he was shaking and those hot flashes were coming faster, faster, and his hands weren't loosening their hold on Xander's hair. He must be the only guy in the world to get an epiphany when having a blowjob, and Xander just kept sucking. Making him tremble, making him yell and he couldn't help it ... He rocked forward frantically, his hips beginning to pump, driving himself closer and closer to the edge as Xander pulled him in tighter, his mouth opening wide around him, swallowing him down, working on him relentlessly. The sounds of Xander moving his hand on himself sped up - became a blur. Everything was a blur and the only thing he knew was he never, never wanted this to stop but shit, shit he was nearly there ....

"Xander - oh fuck I'm gonna ..."

His sharp gasp cut off the words, his body tensing as his hips jerked forward uncontrollably and he shot into Xander's mouth and with the fast, hot rush he felt himself let go, falling into Xander as the knot of anger inside him loosened and vanished, the hurt dissolved and the only thing that remained, that mattered was just how much he loved him, and that by some miracle, Xander loved him back. A moment later Xander tensed, then shuddered, giving a long moan around his cock, that might have been a wail had his mouth been free.

For a long moment neither moved. Xander let Spike slip from his mouth and rested his head against Spike's belly. He could taste Spike's essence in his throat. His hand was sticky with his own spendings. What the hell had he just done? It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now with the fever momentarily sated he was scared and oddly ashamed. He had pretty much molested Spike's stunned, immobile body, and got off on it! What must Spike *think* of him? He'd thought he'd heard, through the roaring in his ears and the moans and gasps, words fall from Spike's lips, words of love - but now he wasn't sure. Maybe his mind had been playing tricks on him because Spike wasn't saying a word. Xander squeezed his eyes tightly closed and wished passionately that he'd never have to move. Never have to let this moment end, because right now he could pretend they were lovers again.

Slowly the tremors running through their bodies died down and ceased, and there was still silence between them. He couldn't delay any longer. Reluctantly, he moved, fastening Spike's jeans, and then his own with trembling fingers, as though that would cover up what had just happened. Then he stood.

Spike looked at Xander - his precious, incredible Xander as he slowly got to his feet, and right now he looked so damn *young*, so vulnerable, and he forgave him. Because Xander wasn't cruel or pathetic. He was just like him, someone who messed up. Someone who could be short-sighted and angry and imperfect, but somehow still loving him enough to find his way back to a place where they could begin again and get it right this time, and he had no right to be pissed it had taken Xander so long to get here, because looking back on their tortured relationship, it was a miracle either of them had got here at all.

Xander, unaware of his epiphany, seemed barely able to look at him, his cheeks were flaming with embarrassment.

"I, uh, I ..." Xander began to stutter.

"Xander," Spike said, stopping him.

Xander managed to look at him, his dark eyes confused and scared, like Spike could break him with a single word. Maybe he could. But he didn't want too. Never again. Spike reached out his arms, they opened out easily, like a bird spreading it's wings. Xander gulped and bit his lip, as tears of burning relief and deep, overwhelming thankfulness sprung to his eyes.

"Spike ... oh God ..."

And as Xander flew into his arms they finally emerged from their vast, dreadful estrangement, but he didn't waste any more time agonizing over the past because he was kissing him and Xander was kissing him back. Kissing long and slow and deep, crawling in from out of the cold into each others arms, a place that was warm and precious and *home*. Kissing like they had been dying of thirst and *finally* had been allowed to drink. Mouth moving against mouth, tender yet searingly hot, like a dazzling dream after the weeks of misery, but this was *real*, it wasn't going to fade away leaving him cold and alone, he knew it because he could feel it - the heat of Xander's body, the slickness of his tongue, the weight wrapped in his arms and how has he got so lucky?

Xander pulled back briefly to draw in a shaking breath.

"I love you," Spike managed to say hoarsely before Xander caught his lips in another kiss, as though he just couldn't bear to be parted from him.

"I love you too Spike," Xander breathed into his mouth between kisses and he could taste salt. Xander was crying.

"Xander," he whispered, tenderly wiping away the tears. "Don't cry ... please don't cry."

Xander nodded but disobeyed as more tears rolled down his cheeks and he reached out to touch Spike's wet cheek. "You're crying too."

"No I'm not."

Xander opened his mouth to say something - maybe to disagree, but never got the chance to speak as Spike kissed him again, stopping the words and hiding the tears he denied. Tears of pure relief and joy that at last they'd found their way back, and as insane as it sounded in this moment he wouldn't change a thing because if he hadn't lived through the agony of losing him then he would never have felt the burning joy of being next to him again. Joy so intense that right now it hurts. Xander's kisses were dropping over his neck, chin, eyes, lips, licking away his tears and it's such a sweet pain, and words are so hard to speak when he feels so much, all he can gasp out is; "Love you, Xander," over and over, and every time he says it Xander whispers that he loves him too. Maybe it's greedy but right now he needs Xander to keep saying it, he needs to hear it to believe it, to convince himself that this is really happening and Xander must be feeling exactly the same. Holding onto each other, and they keep saying it until the words feel like they surround them, submerging them in warmth, the outside world vanishing, and it's just *them* in a bubble of bittersweet loving reunion.

Eventually Xander pulled back - his cheeks were tearstained, but his eyes were glowing with feeling Spike had never seen in anyone's eyes before. Love. Not Dru's affection, or Angelus's dislike tinged with desire but love. Indestructible, powerful love, straight from the heart. Xander was looking at him like he was special, like he was incredible, and right now he's feeling so much that he had to gather Xander to him tightly and hold on. Just hold on.

"Xander," Spike breathed into his hair. "I thought you were never coming back ... I thought you didn't want me ..."

"Hey I'm not stupid ... a little slow maybe but ..."

"Xander," Spike said painfully, glad that right now his face is buried in Xander's shoulder and he doesn't have to try to hide his expression. "I know I've already told you this, but I'm sorry too - *so* sorry, you know about ..."

"No," Xander interrupted, his voice surprisingly strong considering it was so shaky. "You're forgiven. I'm forgiven, and nothing matters anymore, as long as you ..."

"I do."

"Then we don't need to apologize anymore, okay?"

Spike nodded, smiling with relief, a smile that came from his heart, and it felt so good to smile again, a real heartfelt smile with no sharp pull of misery lurking beneath it. He felt a little stronger then, able to look at Xander's face, into those expressive eyes. He reached a hand out to cup Xander's cheek.

"I just wanna say - you know how you're knocked to your knees? You're not alone down there pet."

Xander gave him a twisted smile. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. Play your cards right I might give you a demonstration."

"Can't wait." But although the smiles remained their eyes were serious, and Xander reached up, covering Spike's hand on his cheek with his own as they stayed still, gazing into each other's eyes, wordlessly saying everything in their hearts that they couldn't put into words.

Eventually Xander spoke. "So ... what do we do now?"

***

Xander had a fleeting impression of Spike's eyes flashing as they flicked up and down his body, then they cannoned into each other, their mouths seeking each other's out. Spike slammed him back against the wall, he hit it hard, gaining a bruise that would hurt like hell later but right now wasn't even noticed under the feverish ravishing kisses. His gut lurched with pure helpless want, his mouth was opening under Spike's, his hands reaching and grabbing Spike, so Spike was pressed hard against him. The change was faster than a bolt of lightening tearing apart the night sky. From tender, bittersweet reunion to hard wrenching desire, as weeks of waiting, weeks of frustration and loss and hurt were blasted away by this kiss.

They couldn't let go of each other, couldn't get enough of each other, clinging on with a desperately tight grip. Their hands were under each other's shirt, Xander's mouth was buzzing, his tongue was hurting but he couldn't stop. Not when Spike was pressed up against him so close he could barely breath, not when he was tasting Spike again. Trying to kiss him so deeply for so long he'd never, ever forget how it felt.

"Missed you ... oh I've missed you so *much*." His voice sounded so needy, so fervent and Spike was pressing kisses, rough and hungry up his neck, licking him, tasting him. He grabbed Spike's hair, pulling his head back, scraping his chin across Spike's sensitive lips, and Spike was making this *sound* this high, breathy moan and they couldn't get to the bed, they couldn't even separate long enough to get to the couch. They slid down the wall, crashing to the floor, Spike on top of him and they fitted just the way he remembered, making his insides feel hollowed out and oh so hot ... Spike's shaking fingers slipped clumsily as he tried to unbutton his shirt, then with a muttered curse he just tore it. The buttons pattered lightly on the floor and he could hardly believe this was happening, but the carpet was rough against his bare back, and Spike's teeth were nipping at his neck, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Spike's blazing blue gaze, no longer tormented with guilt, but blazing with a desperate passion that he could feel mirrored in his own eyes, because God it had been so long. Everything was happening so fast, part of him wanted to slow it down, savour every moment, but his body couldn't stop. There was a tearing sound as he pulled off Spike's T-shirt and his skin was burning next to Spike's as their mouths melded together again. They writhed, trying to kick off their shoes, wriggle out of their jeans without separating, when suddenly. Oh - naked.

And they stilled - just for a second, their eyes dilated and hazy, mouths inches apart panting heavily. Taking a moment to look at each other- maybe to convince themselves that this was real - and Spike was so beautiful, and looking at him as if *he* was beautiful, but he couldn't be as lovely as Spike right now. Lips flushed and swollen, dark nipples, cock hard and leaking over the soft, pale skin of his stomach - an incredible, beautiful sight he thought he'd never see again, and he's so glad he's proved himself wrong, but there was something different about Spike's stomach ...

"God, you've got so *thin*."

It wasn't him that spoke, it was Spike, his voice shocked and slightly appalled. Xander glanced down at himself - seeing what Spike saw, how they almost matched in the weight loss.

"You too," he said, tracing his hand along Spike's hollowed out stomach.

Spike rolled his eyes ironically - always trying to keep cool that was Spike. "Misery diet luv." But his light response couldn't cover the painful truth in the words.

"Me too - maybe we should patent it - cry out all those fluids, don't eat a thing thanks to the lump in your throat ..."

Spike reached up, stopping him from speaking, from glossing over the past pain by pulling him down to meet his lips with a fierce kiss that he returned so fervently it almost hurt. Although they'd agreed no more apologizing was necessary in this kiss they wordlessly tried to pour out their burning regret, their consuming desire to make everything right again. To just *be* again - and lying like this, with Spike's body was pressed against him, skin to skin, easing the physical ache of his absence, for the first time it feels like it's working. All this time he's been under such strain trying to deny his feelings, and now he's been set free and doesn't have to hold back anymore. He can do all the things he's secretly been dying to do for so long. He can roll so Spike is under him, and run his hands over his skin, circling his nipples with his fingers. Pinching them to make Spike gasp. He can trail kisses down Spike's throat and chest, letting his tongue out to taste the satin skin. He can settle his mouth over Spike's hard nipples and tease with teeth and tongue, and he does all this and more, whispering a constant stream of endearments to him and it's all skin and sensation and moans and a restless, aching knot of *want* growing and growing inside him and Spike's cock was bumping against his. Heavy, hard and silky and Spike moves his hips like liquid, making their cocks slide against each other and he gasps, just *driving* down against him, biting Spike's shoulder and shuddering at the delicious, slick friction and Spike's fingers were tight on his back, his blond head thrashing from side to side and he never, never wanted to stop, and all he knew was what his body was telling him. That he wanted Spike inside.

He shifted away despite Spike's growl of disappointment, rolling onto his back. He traced a finger over Spike's swollen lips, and Spike opened his mouth, giving his finger a gentle suck, making it wet. He pulled it out of Spike's mouth and reached down, opening his legs. Spike's eyes were hazy with heat yet dark, totally focused, watching. Both of them breathing heavily as he slid his finger down, and *in*. They gasped in unison and Spike's gaze is even hotter than touching himself like this and he's moving his finger. His eyes locked on Spike's as he rolls his hips, and Spike reaches out his hand, letting a finger brush over his crease, flicking at his entrance.

"Oh. Oh fuck. Spike yes ...*Yes*."

His breath is hitching and it sounds so needy, so harsh, but Spike's finger keeps slipping in joining his own - just a little and he's jerking his hips up, just trying to make it go in deeper, harder. Pulling his own finger out and just grabbing Spike's wrist - trying to force him in - and Spike must be taking pity on him because

"Oh GOD Spike!"

it slips inside, and he's writhing. Jerking under his touch, babbling incoherent sex sounds as Spike slips his finger in and out, and it's so good - yet not quite enough in the most wonderfully tingling, teasing, frustrating way ...

"Oh yes - right there, that's so - oh. Oh yessssssss."

"Fuck, *Xander*, pet ..."

"Oh please - just - oh yeah. Just *there* ..."

"You're so *hot* ..."

And Spike was trembling against him and he really can't wait any longer, "Spike, do it now. Now, I want you right *now* ..."

Reaching for Spike, running his hand over Spike's cock - it's so hard it was flat against his stomach, but Spike's free hand flew out, grabbing his wrist, stopping him as he eased his finger out of Xander's body.

"Xander, I - I don't think I'll be much good." Spike said shakingly, holding out his trembling hands in explanation, and this was new. And humiliating. In every fantasy he'd ever had of making love to Xander again he'd always pictured himself as passionate yet self possessed. He'd never thought it would be like this, such a riot of sensation, sweet and frantic and wonderful and so overwhelming that the mere feel of Xander's hot skin would make him twist inside with emotion that feels almost close to tears. Xander is making him *lose* it. Making him feel desperate for more, to get closer, and closer still. He'd *never* wanted anything so much in his life as he wanted to make love to Xander right now, yet he couldn't control the trembles running through his body - the terror that somehow he would mess this up. He wanted this to be perfect, but it had been so long and he was so out of practice and shaking so badly, what if he wasn't good, wasn't right ...?

Xander gave him a small smile. "Well," he said, also shakily. "I don't see anyone giving you points outta ten."

Spike gave a laugh that somehow had the edge of a sob in it.

"Spike if you don't feel ready, if you don't want ..."

"I want," Spike blurted out. "Oh I do want ..."

"Then it'll be okay," Xander whispered hoarsely, beginning to fist his cock, and Spike's hand loosened his grip on Xander's wrist, let go as he melted into his touch, moans rippling in his throat. "I'm nervous too, but it'll be okay because it's you and me. I want to be with you, Spike, and ... it's been so *long*."

"Oh. Oh fuck." And maybe it was Xander's words, or the way his voice caught on the last word, or maybe it was the way his hand was moving, but the fear loosened it's freezingly tight grip on him. The shaking lessened a little and oh - he was still scared but he wanted him so *much*. His eyes ran over him hungrily - devouring him, Xander's eyes that were almost black with desire, his thick erection, the curve of his ass, until just looking wasn't enough anymore, and Xander seemed to get that, holding out his arms, gathering him to him, and he was kissing Xander. Kissing his forehead, eyelids, cheekbones, then his mouth, almost drunk with joy, wanting to laugh with happiness, yet tears still pricked his eyes as he hovered on the brink of making his wildest fantasy a reality. Running his hands over Xander possessively, down his chest to his hips, up to his stomach again, and pausing before moving down. Feeling Xander's hardness brush against his palm, hot and throbbing and Xander was arching his hips, for more friction. His fingers curled around Xander's cock, moving in the rhythm that drove Xander mad ...

"Spiiike ... " His name barely more than an exhalation from Xander's lips yet with a clear whimper of impatience.

"Wait a second ..." He grabbed at his duster lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, reaching into the inside pocket and retrieving a tube of lube. From the inside pocket. The secret one close to his heart. Xander's eyebrows raised up almost to his hairline and Spike gave him a small, embarrassed smile. "It's the one we used, that last night we ... I never could throw it away."

And maybe it was a strange thing to be touched by, but Xander was - touched to his very heart. It was odd, sad and slightly freaky, but it was so very *Spike*. He groped for the words that would express his emotion.

"Hurry up and use it."

And maybe it's not the most romantic thing to say, but it's all that's in his head right now - how badly he wants this, and much he's feeling, and Spike doesn't seem to need to hear anymore as his eyes flare and suddenly neither of them are thinking about being frightened. Neither of them are thinking anything except that this is really going to happen, they're going to have sex. Right now.

And Spike is wrenching the top off the lube, slicking himself with a couple of swift pulls, and his cock is glistening and Xander can't help from licking his lips. Sees Spike's hand judder on his cock at the sight of it and oh Spike's eyes are so hot, so hungry and cock in hand, he's positioning himself. Back between Xander's legs, and he settles in there like it's where he's meant to be - like he's never been away, and suddenly Xander feels like crying again. Just a little, because he hadn't dared think until just now just how much he's *missed* him, missed this. He's been so empty and lost and so fucking *miserable*, but it's all over now and Spike's rubbing his cock over Xander's entrance, making moan, making him ache for it, making him *feel* it, making him want to open up and take it in ...

And he's lifting his legs, wrapping them around Spike's waist, and Spike suddenly grabs a leg, dropping a quick kiss on his knee, before raising it up and shoving it over his shoulder, exposing him so much more - and that's okay, anything Spike does right now is okay and words are falling from his lips, words like;

"Oh please Spike, don't make me wait, want you in me, want you so bad ..." And he's so hard and Spike's eyes are so dark and Spike's panting now, biting his lip and pushing the slick head of his cock into him. Pushing hard and oh fuck he's going in and /ohpleasepleaseit'sbeensolongandthatfeelsso*good*/ his heart is hammering and it's incredible pleasure and slightly painful and perfect. Spike sinks in, stretching him out and these groans begin coming out of his mouth, deep, animal sounds and oh. It's like

/being whole again/

nothing on Earth. Ever.

"Oh. My. God." His voice is harsh, spoken through a tight throat and it's that almost forgotten pleasure it's hotter than hot and Spike is moving, his hips pressing into him, hard against his buttocks and oh fuck he's moving too. They're moving together, and he'd forgotten just *how* this felt - this incredible, burning spiral of *feeling* that lifts him up and swallows him whole and it's just him and Spike locked together.

"I can't believe I'm inside you," Spike whispered, so quiet he could have missed it through his gasps and cries as the vicious pleasure wracks him. Making him shudder making him burn and making him arch up to guide Spike to that sweet, sweet, *place* And he nudges it - setting off those sparks inside him, and he yells, jerking uncontrollably, losing the rhythm briefly, then holy *fuck* picking it up again and Spike just keeps whispering to him;

"So hot, so sweet that's oh ... that's so *good*. Xander, please never go again, I'll die if you go again, love you so *much* ..."

Sweet, precious words gaped into his mouth in a sweet open-mouthed kiss and against his skin, sinking deep inside him where he can treasure them forever. Words that he knew Spike would deny saying at any other time, apart from now wrapped tight in his body and falling apart so wonderfully in his arms and he's gasping words back;

"Couldn't go ... ever again ... Love you Spike, I love you." And oh God he can hardly believe this is happening, but it is and although he thought there be nothing else he'd ever want there is something else that he wants, and there's no reason for it, but right now he wants it so much ...

His eyes are drawn to Spike's lips parted as he pants, and the glint of the white teeth beyond, and his cock jumps in response with the pulse racing in his neck, and he wants to know. What is it like?

The tiny part of Spike still capable of thought was still lagging behind, unable to believe this was really happening - was this really *him* inside Xander? Things like this didn't happen to him, but it feels real - sinking into him feels like hope and love and passion all wrapped around him. Surrounded by Xander, by heat and velvet skin. Xander's kisses dripping over his face, and Xander's eyes all dark and wanting and this is something he thought he'd never have ever again and for the first time in his life it feels like he's found exactly where he should be. His heart is overflowing, with love, with the desire to make everything right, and the more he moves inside Xander the more it all flows out from him in gesture and whispers and movement. It's never been like this before, so driven, yet so tender as their bodies slide against each other, rocking into each other over and over, faster and deeper and they were both panting open-mouthed, eyes locked on to each other and he'd never thought he'd want more - he *shouldn't* want more - but there's an almost palpable buzz in the air over his tongue, and he can hear the blood rushing in a sweet, seductive hiss through Xander's veins and he wants to taste it so *much*. And Xander is so flushed, like his blood is jumping to the surface, begging to be released, singing to him in a siren song, and his mouth suddenly feels so dry. There's an empty space inside him still and bloodlust has never felt like this before, never pulled at him so strongly and of course he doesn't want to hurt Xander, he just wants to taste a little, but the bloody chip wouldn't understand that, more importantly Xander wouldn't understand that, so he tries to ignore it, tries to tear his eyes away from the smooth skin of Xander's throat, and Xander's panting, panting his name ...

"Spike - oh yes that's so good - Spike I want ... I want you ... to do something for me," The words are gasped out like Xander's finding it hard to grasp them, hard to make his mind work.

"Anything." Immediate answer straight from his heart, but God he hopes Xander doesn't want to stop.

"Bite me."

He slammed to a halt, something he thought wouldn't have been physically possible - but hey so many impossible things had already happened tonight what was one more? But Xander couldn't have possibly said what he'd thought he'd said. Could he? "Bite you?"

"Yes," Xander said, still panting. "Please."

He should say no. Right away - just no. And yet what comes out of his mouth is; "What ..? Why do you want that?"

"Because ... because I trust you and I want you to know it. Because I want to know how it feels, you drinking from me. Spike I want you. All of you." He shifted his hips impatiently, and Spike's mind began to blur under the sensations. "I want to you to fuck me, I want you to bite me." And to tell the truth words couldn't really explain why Xander wanted Spike to bite him, just that he did. He wanted to do this for Spike, to give him a gift of trust and love and blood, and he wanted it for himself as well, emotionally, physically. He felt it everywhere. In the pit of his belly, in his skin, in his cock and heart and most of all in his blood. The blood pumping in his neck that felt just a little too tingly, too full, too hot to be contained and the only way to make the ache stop would be for Spike to break the skin, for his cool mouth to settle over the bite and draw the heat out of him, easing the deep-seated tingle that was driving him mad.

"The chip ..." Spike protested weakly on a moan.

""Will it go off if you don't want to hurt me ... if I want it too? 'Cos I do Spike. Oh, please Spike," he gasped as Spike began to pant hungrily, his eyes fixed on the pulse in his neck. "Want it - want it so bad ... Don't you want it too?" Xander tilted his head, revealing the line of his neck. Spike's eyes flashed gold for a moment and his fingers tightened painfully on him as he gave in.

"Yes. Oh fuck *yes*!"

Spike's face shifted, and it was the demon looking down at him with it's ridged face, fierce yellow eyes and sharp fangs, and Xander almost laughed and almost cried, because of course he'd *known* Spike was a vampire. Even in his human face there were little flashes here and there, especially when they'd had sex. Spike's strength and stamina, his habit of sucking hungrily on his pulse points, but he'd never seen him like this before not when he was *inside* him and oh he still wanted it, didn't care that it was a demon looking at him, that he'd opened his heart and body, and now was about to open a vein to a demon. It was Spike and he was horrifyingly beautiful, and he loved him. Faster than he could see Spike buried his face in his neck and bit. Bit *hard*. His skin parted and Xander cried out, and for a moment /OhfuckinghellwhatthehellhaveIdone/ as the razor sharp fangs sunk in deep, it *hurt* yet he welcomed it, wanted the pain, the connection, the mark because it was Spike. /I trust you. ItrustyouIloveyouIneedyou/

His blood was rushing into Spike's mouth as he sucked hungrily, and now he was inside Spike as Spike was inside him and it was scary and dangerous and hotter even than sex, and if he'd know that being bitten could feel like this he'd have done it long ago. He's totally vulnerable and incredibly powerful because even while he's completely in Spike's hands, Spike is taking from him - Spike needs *him*. He pulls Spike's head down even closer - feeling the fangs sink deeper, the pull as Spike sucked ... and God he's hard, this is so *fucking* sexy and he's losing it, can't process thoughts anymore, thoughts have *nothing* on this whirl of sensation and ...

And he'd slipped that fucking leash in his head, the chip remaining silent as Xander's lovely blood exploded across his tongue, sliding down his throat, flooding through him like heated spiced wine, but this was so much more than blood. It was tangible lovetrustsexheatlife racing down his throat - into his stomach, to his heart and bones, into the very core of him filling him up and making him whole and he's bitten during sex before but it's *never* been like this - *never*.

/Love you sweetheart. Loveyouloveyou*loveyou*/

He was drowning in this bite and Xander's hand was on his head, holding him tightly, and he's inside Xander, Xander's inside him, and beyond his physical eyes he could see ... feel their spirits like streams of different colored light entwining together bonding them in a way he's never known before and

"Oh *God*!"

Xander cried out under him, his body arching up, wanting more, and he wants more too - craves it like he's never craved anything, he could drain him dry and it would never be enough, but Xander trusts him and he's got to stop *now* before he can't. Breaking the bite he wrenches himself away, letting the chip's leash slip over him again, and glimpses a flash of Xander's face, eyes wide and hungry and he rams himself into Xander's body deep enough to try and lose himself in there ...

Spike abruptly pulled away from his neck and for a second Xander felt a deep pang of loss, opened his mouth to tell him to bite him again - right now - but the words are lost as Spike thrusts into him so deep, so hard for a second he thinks he's going to pass out. Balls of light explode in front of his eyes, pain and pleasure radiating out through his body like he'd grabbed a bolt of lightening by the tail, colors were weirdly bright and wavy around the edges, and there was nothing, else here but him and Spike. No noise except the cries coming from their mouths and the rush of his blood, his heartbeat and this was it, the big drop, once in a lifetime never to be repeated, his body was a rollercoaster and there was no way off. Vibrating under Spike as Spike thrust so hard he thought he was going to die from it, and Spike was digging his fingernails into his shoulder and throwing his head back, wailing as he came. And came. And came. And came inside him, burning streams and oh God just - *slamming* into that place where the nerves leapt inside him and his body was spasming uncontrollably. Jerking up into Spike, impaling himself even deeper and his thighs were tense, his skin burning and it was scary and wonderful and hot as he trembled on the edge and then Spike's hand began to fist his cock and then ... then his orgasm hit, and his scream joined Spike's. It was dark and bright and loud and silent, and against the brilliant darkness he had a flash of two beams of light coiled about each other - separate yet mysteriously fused and was this dying? But he could hear himself screaming out Spike's name over and over, feel his hoarse throat catching on his name and his eyes were wide open his heart hammering like a jackhammer in his chest and this wasn't dying, this was living, truly feeling alive with every cell of his body vibrating and jumping. Life that was rarely - if ever - experienced and Spike was back in his human face, his eyes wild and unfocused, his lips red with his blood and they were part laughing, part crying in the aftermath of their climax as they let the sensations slide over, and begin to fade away from them.

The giggles and sobs gradually stopped as their bodies stilled. They lay still and quiet wrapped in each other's arms for a long time. Time meant nothing right now. He felt so light and free. So peaceful and still and the only time he'd come close to feeling so happy before was the night he'd spent with Spike in his crypt. Or maybe he'd never come close to being so happy before. If only they could stay lying here forever. Never moving again.

Gradually they began to feel their way back into thinking, moving. Spike began licking the healing wound in his neck. He began stroking Spike's back.

After a long time Spike raised his head. "Xander," Spike tried the name out like it was a new word in a foreign language. He shook his head as though clearing it and tried again. "Xander - that was ..."

"I know."

Spike brushed his finger over Xander's neck. "Are you ..?"

"I'm perfect," Xander replied dreamily.

Spike began stroking Xander's chest and stomach, smiling a little at Xander's contented sigh, and Spike knew whatever lay ahead of them in the battle tonight, this had, and would always be, the best night of his life.

"Will you move in with me?"

Spike's hand paused in its caress, then resumed. He looked at Xander who was watching him, and for a moment all he could hear was the ticking of the clock. Ticking for him. Marking time. Taking him closer to the day when Xander will eventually, inevitably, be gone, and how could he bear it? How could he bear the void that lay waiting where once a dark-haired lad had been, who he loved so much? How could he face the price that lay waiting in the future for this happiness? But Xander kept on looking at him with those damn dark, hot eyes of his. Xander who he loves with all his heart, Xander who loves him back just as much. Xander who wants to take him into his life, his home, his heart, a place that no vampire has a right to be - yet Xander doesn't seem to care, and - yes - there will be sadness, a price in the future that he cannot avoid, but Xander just keeps looking at him with those eyes, and whatever the price, this is where he wants to be.

"Yes."

Xander nodded. "Good." But his quiet response was buoyed up as a brilliant smile swept over his face, and they were kissing again, laughing into the kiss, embracing each other tightly, but the outside world was pressing against the bubble they'd created around them. As Spike caught a glimpse of the clock, his smile faded and Xander followed his glance, his smile too vanishing, as the bubble burst.

"Oh God, we're gonna have to go - shit, we don't have enough *time*..."

"Don't panic," Spike ordered roughly, rolling on top of him and pinning him down, staring fiercely into his eyes.

"But Glory ..."

"She won't know what's hit her. We've got time. We got our whole lives. Don't start running our farewell scene. We're gonna live through this. We have come too far and through too much to let the soddin' end of the world stop us now. We're going to stop Glory and save Dawn, then we are going to come back here, and fall into bed and live happy bloody ever after, okay?"

Xander nodded, feeling a faint smile touch his swollen mouth as Spike's eyes blazed down at him, and right now so many feelings were streaming through him he could hardly find words to describe them. Hopeful and fearful, achingly tender and unique because he's seeing a side to Spike that nobody else does. A protective, fiercely hopeful and - oh yeah - deeply, totally in love with *him* side. It's a little unsettling. He's never been the centre of anyone's world before, yet he thinks he could get used to it. "Okay."

Spike nodded relieved, returning Xander's smile he reluctantly stood, climbing to his feet and helping Xander up and he already knows that there's no such thing as a happy ending. Everything has a price and beating Glory is going to demand a high one. They both know that not all the Scoobies are gonna make it, but they have to have hope, and as long as he and Xander can come back here tonight and fall into bed, then they have the rest of their lives to figure out the rest.

Xander slipped into the bathroom to wash, and as the water gushed from the taps he stilled as he caught sight of his reflection in the cracked mirror - he never had gotten around to replacing it. He stared at himself. His hair was ruffled, he had finger shaped marks on his thighs, hips and buttocks. His nipples and lips were still flushed and swollen and the bite mark on his neck glowed a vivid red. He should feel exhausted, shaky, terrified of the upcoming fight but he felt alert, fired up, brave and ready for anything. His eyes were clear and sparkling and he felt so *young* - so strong. He touched the bite on his neck and for a moment he pictured the life he would never have now, the life with a pretty wife and kids and days out at the beach, then, easily, he let it go.

He dressed and fetched the Sphere, Spike looked up as he entered the room. Dressed in his usual battered black gear, looking dangerous and edgy and determined and enough. Always enough.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

Xander didn't pause for one last look around as they left. He didn't need to. Although he didn't think tonight - or any other night would be easy, he believed they'd be coming back, together, and that was enough. They walked out together into the night, side by side. The way they should be, always. As they headed out towards the unknown, Xander reached out to take Spike's waiting hand.

~Fin~