Title: Gift for Shadowscast 2006

Author: tarotgal

Fandom: Buffy the vampire slayer and Angel the series

Pairings: Spike/Xander

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or their world. This is fanfiction and I'm just playing for fun, not making any money.

Summary: Xander and Spike reunite and get into it.

Notes: Written for Shadowscast as a holiday gift. Enjoy!



Gift for Shadowscast 2006

            Xander pulled his eye open and was immediately overwhelmed by a rush of panic. It took him almost a full minute to calm himself sufficiently to think with a clear head. He reminded himself that the reason he was still in bed at this time of day was because he had been awake for nearly four days straight. And the reason that his side hurt was the hit he'd taken the night before in the fight. But they'd killed it in the end. They.


            Xander smiled, remembering that part, too. He rolled over in bed to find Spike still lying beside him, just as they'd left things the night before. If not for the memory of what Spike's tongue had done to him, and if not for the sight of the naked quasi-vampire beside him, Xander might have let himself drift right back to sleep.


            Instead, he happily pressed himself into Spike's side. He ran a hand down Spike's front, from lips to naval, and Spike twitched just a little on his way along the process towards waking. Xander's hand went down further, caressing the fine cock, thighs, balls- and Spike stirred again. "Quit it, Harris," he growled.


            "Is it the eyepatch?" Xander murmured, continuing his caresses. "I can go put the glass eye in, if you like."


            "That's not it," Spike growled. "I just don't want to do this."


            Xander chuckled. "Give it a second and you will want it." He slid his palm along the length of Spike's cock.


            His reflexes still as good as ever, Spike's hand flew downward and grabbed hold of Xander's wrist. "I mean it, Pet." One night in bed had apparently earned Xander the pet-name already. "Don't start with me right now. I don't feel good."


            "You're just tired." Xander had a yawn of his own brewing, in fact. As he turned and directed it into his shoulder, he was shocked to hear the unexpected sound of a sneeze. Xander's head whipped back in time to see Spike rubbing the palm of his hand against his nose. "Vampires don't sneeze."


            "True." Spike sniffed and left his nose alone for a moment. "But I'm not exactly a vamp anymore, am I?" He sniffed again and resumed rubbing. "This treat came with the whole package. Get limited exposure to the sun, get a faint heartbeat, and I also get to catch colds."


            There was little chance of either of them going back to sleep now, and Spike needed a drink, besides. Just not the sort of drink Xander would have expected him to have. Spike stood and went to the bathroom as Xander sat up in bed, the words sinking in. "Wait, colds? As in plural?"


            Spike nodded and paused on the other side of the room. His hand kept rubbing but his breathing hitched. "ehhh-Kshhttt! EhhhKChihhh!" More rubbing and walking, and Spike disappeared into the bathroom.


            Xander would be damned if he was going to leave it at that. So he jumped out of bed to follow.


            Spike had the water running in the sink and was bent over, drinking straight from the tap. Spike caught Xander's eyes to warn him not to make a joke. He lapped at the water and swallowed repeatedly. Then he tore himself away from the running water to grab some toilet paper to rub his nose into. He offered some explanation. "I've been fighting this thing for a week. Thought I had it beat for a little while there. But I haven't exactly been taking it easy these past few days, what with that demon and running into you. Guess I underestimated this bug a bit." Spike coughed from so much talking and ducked down again to gulp down more water.


            Spike's face, most noticeably his nose, came in contact with the flow. He winced and kept drinking. When done, he groped around until he found a hand towel. There were three of them on the rack by the sink, in fact, each embroidered with an 'X' for 'Xander' which made a less than clean statement the way they were lined up. It was one Spike might have laughed about last night but this afternoon he just wanted a towel to wipe his face dry. And sniffle into just a little. "And, of course," Spike continued, his words muffled into the towel, "I didn't exactly take it easy last night." His breath caught and he turned away, pinching his nose. "Hehh-Yish!"


            Xander squatted down and rummaged under the sink, trying to find a Kleenex box. He'd bought one once; they were useful things to have around. But there wasn't one there now. Spike would have to make do with toilet paper for now. Unless... maybe he had a travel pack in his suitcase or something. He headed out to his closet to find his luggage. Spike followed him out. "Why didn't you tell me?" Xander asked over his shoulder, sounding cold and quiet. "We had that whole heart-to-heart after the battle. You'd think you'd have mentioned something about this."




            Xander had been fighting demons and vampires, at least in some capacity, since he was fifteen. He knew when he was in a losing battle. What was different about this time was that he had gone into it knowing that there was no possible way he could win. If hope was the thing with wings, imminent death was the thing with sharp fangs the size of arms, slimy scales, and fiery breath. He did as well as he could do, because he had absolutely no other choice, but was seriously outmatched.


            Thankfully, last night, Xander Harris had gotten lucky three times.


            The first came when he faced off with the demon who decided he wasn't so much a threat as an amusing plaything. Like a cat with a little toy mouse, Xander found himself being batted around. Mostly it was just a few hits and some crashing against crates that had been left in the abandoned building.


            He fought back, naturally, trying to get to it to attack while still trying to avoid its limbs. He managed to stab it in the arm... or leg... or whatever appendage it was... but it kept right on coming at him. He was struck twice in the head, with a hard blow to his side in-between.


            Just before Xander lost consciousness, he saw his second stroke of luck. It came in a black duster and platinum-blond hair. Xander was so far gone that he wasn't entirely sure of what he was seeing. For a moment, he thought he was right back in Sunnydale. And then a moment later he had passed out.


            When Xander awoke, he found himself face-to-face with the demon. He jumped back with a start and groaned at the pain shooting through his side. About the same time he realized the demon was dead, he realized Spike was there. Spike.


            There was a simultaneous 'what are you doing here?' and both began their explanations at the same time, requiring them to back up and start over again. While Xander had only learned of the demon in his town a few days ago, Spike had apparently been tracking it two states back.


            Spike slid an arm around Xander to help him to his feet. "What were you thinking going up against that alone?"


            "Had to do something. Couldn't just vanish off the face of the earth, like some people," he replied pointedly.


            As they walked to Xander's car, with Xander leaning on Spike most of the way, Spike explained away the last year. He began with burning up in the hellmouth and then suddenly appearing in Angel's office. "And then there was this great big fuss about a prophecy," he said, helping Xander into the passenger seat of the car.


            It was as Xander was insisting he could drive that he suddenly realized what was happening. And then he froze, looking around wildly as though something on the street might explain it. But all he could see was normal as normal could be for an afternoon. "Spike, why aren't you...?"


            "A pile of ashes?" Spike finished for him. Xander nodded, watching as Spike backed up, the sunlight bright on his face. There was nothing more natural than sunlight, but it looked incredibly strange on Spike's pale face. "Like I was saying," Spike said, shutting the car door and circling around to the driver's seat. "There was this prophecy thing, saying the vampire with a soul who made it past fiends and apocalypses got to be a real boy at the end. Angel believed every word of it, and as we both fit the bill, we had a bit of a tussle trying to decide which one of us the prophecy was meant for." Spike started up the car. "Seems the universe couldn't decide either, 'cause it didn't have a lot of humanity to throw around and gave us both a dose. Where'm I going?"


            The car was headed straight down the road with no destination. Xander considered a half dozen destinations. And when Spike pointed out a hospital sign, Xander insisted on just going back to his apartment. "If I check into the ER one more time, they'll think something's up. I'm out of excuses, and I'm just a little bruised this time."


            "All right," Spike said. "We'll go back to yours, then."


            "I didn't exactly invite you," Xander said. "Or don't you need that any more?"


            "Dunno, really. Haven't tried that one out yet. But if you don't want me over..."


            Xander smiled. "I didn't say that, either. Wouldn't be the first time you've crashed at my place. And I could, ah, use some company after that."


            With a chuckle, "Did the fight get you all worked up, too, then?"


            "Someone else said something like that to me once," Xander said, smiling knowingly at Spike. "Just before we fucked." Spike smiled back and glanced briefly at Xander, who got lucky again, as soon as they were in the apartment.




            Xander tossed a pack of tissues to Spike and stayed across the room. He watched Spike crawl back into the bed. "So why didn't you say something about being sick?"


            Spike sniffed and made himself as comfortable as he could in bed. "I didn't tell you 'cause I knew that would be the end of that. Heh... yihshh! Chishhh!" He pulled a tissue out of the pack and rubbed his nose.


            Crossing his arms over his chest, "What do you mean?"


            "Who could possibly want someone in such a sorry state?" He blew his nose in demonstration, then rubbed with the corners of the tissue, determined to get as much use out of it as he could. "Frankly, I had to have you last night, Pet. Didn't want anything to get in the way." He shivered and pulled covers up to his neck.


            He seemed a bit uncomfortable when Xander climbed into bed beside him. But Xander was warm and, half-vamp or not, Spike gravitated towards the extra body heat. Xander stretched his arm out, testing him, and Spike barely hesitated to slide in, curling into Xander's chest. For the first time in the longest time, both men allowed themselves to relax completely.


            "You're an idiot," said Xander, after some time had passed. "You really thought I wouldn't want you if I knew you had a little cold? I mean, Spike, I've seen you a lot worse: evil, murderous, obsessed, suicidal, certifiably crazy..."


            "But you still wouldn'ta let me fuck you if you knew I was ill. Hihh... EH'Shih!"


            Xander started to protest but Spike was probably right about that. He wasn't exactly Mr. Morals any more, but if he'd seen Spike sneeze like that, all he would have done was put Spike right to bed. And maybe heat up a can of chicken noodle. "Can I get you anything?"


            "Just this," Spike replied sleepily. He shook in Xander's arms when he sneezed powerfully, and this time Xander hugged him tightly to help with that. "hetchihhh! YihChehhh!" Xander wouldn't release him afterwards, either, even as Spike struggled a little to put some distance between the sick and the well. But Xander only held him tighter until he finally felt Spike's body relax again. "This is nice," Spike said into Xander's shoulder. "Comin' home after a fight to the same place, to the same bed, to the same... body. A bloke could get used to this."


            Xander laughed, and Spike pulled back, slightly insulted. "I was just thinking how it feels like time for me to move on. Hit the road, shake things up. You don't... have a motorcycle now, do you?"


            Spike shook his head.


            "Probably for the better. Hard to drive one of those things when you're sneezing, I bet."


            Spike settled back in, closing his eyes. "Then we either stay here 'til I make a full recovery, or you do the driving, Pet."


            Xander had every intention of replying. But that was a line he had to have a good answer for. Something fiendishly clever that would make him irresistible to Spike. But the seconds ticked away and then became stressful minutes... until Xander realized Spike had fallen back to sleep.