The latest of the fabled Mr Lincoln’s houses was as different, yet equally as impressive, as each of the others; Xander walked about its rooms in dumbstruck awe that he could, with a single word, be living here with Spike.  Snazzy, yes, but not too large for two, and the interior was deceptively cosy in contrast to the stark, modernistic exterior.

“Not bad for a rental,” Spike joked as he waited for Xander’s decision with faux patience.  “Doesn’t have to be this, of course.  We can look at houses in town, if you like.”

After sleeping all afternoon, Xander appeared fit, healthy, as bright as a button.  Spike wanted to throw him onto the nearest sofa and have his wicked way, but…again with the faux patience.  Oblivious – well, almost – to the barely contained lust that was focused in his direction, Xander studied and considered and paced and actually made up his mind long before he decided to put Spike out of his misery.

“It seems to be quieter here.”

“I hoped it might be, away from the town.”

“I’m probably imagining it.”

“Didn’t you find that with the motels though?  The ones that were a bit more remote?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Lucky that I do then.”

“You so set this up,” Xander grinned.

“No.”  Xander stared a meaningful stare.  “Oh, all right, maybe I thought it was an option.  For you, though, for your peace of mind.”

“How were you going to convince me if I’d wanted to stay where I was and I hadn’t had audience issues?”

“I wasn’t going to convince you.  Like now: still don’t have your answer, do I?”

Xander leaned against the nearest wall and, once again, scrutinized his surroundings.

“Can you really afford this?  You know I can’t help out much.”

“Not a problem.”

“But if it means you going back to LA to work, and that means…”

“Don’t you worry.  Once Angel gets a reminder of being Spike-free, he’ll be paying me to stay away.”

“Good.  That’d be good.”

“So…?”

“You need me to make my mind up now?” Xander asked, playing at indecision and playing it very convincingly if the strain on Spike’s face was anything to go by.

“Take your time.  Big decision.”

“You like it, though?”

“I do.”

“What most?”

“You’d fuck me here?”

“I would.”

“That.  I like that most.”

Not fooled for a moment by Spike’s show of superficiality, Xander went and hugged him.

“’Kay.”

“Seriously?”

“I love it.”

Spike hugged Xander back, so tightly that he squeaked.

“One call and it’s ours.”

“Make the call, Baby.”

Xander returned to strolling as Spike made the call, and he could overhear it was an easy one filled with good humour rather than hard bargaining; the generous Mr Lincoln intrigued him, and he looked forward to meeting the man and shaking him by the hand.  Or whatever one shook that particular kind of demon by.  When Spike finally bounded into the kitchen to join Xander he quickly confirmed that the deal was struck.

“So…” Xander began, gazing at his shiny surroundings, “we did it.”

A reference to much more than the house and Spike knew it.

“Against all the odds,” the vampire added, taking Xander’s hands and drawing him close.  The desire had temporarily receded and what Xander saw when he looked into the sparkling blue eyes that were so attentively fixed on him was excitement.  Hope.  Adoration.  He imagined that Spike was seeing much the same.

“I’m so happy I’m scaring myself,” he confessed.

“That’s the spirit!” Spike laughed as he planted a smacker of a kiss on Xander’s cheek.  “What’s next then?  We start packing?”

“Next…  The Stokes’.”

“Ah.  That should be jolly.”

“You want to leave it for another day?”

“Nah.  I need to start persuading them that I’m here to be with you, not here to take you away from them.”

Spike linked Xander’s arm in his and guided them toward the door.

“I want my friends to like you, Spike, that’s very important to me.  So when you pretend to like them, I want you to pretend really well.”

“Not a problem, Love.”

“You think?”

“Thanks to Uund’d’tar, I’ve got six-and-a-half grand in my pocket.  You’d be surprised at how much goodwill that can buy.”

“They’re not that kind of people.”

“I admire your faith, I really do.  But when you have old ladies whinging about parking their bony arses on uncomfortable wooden seats, and the cash solution walks in the door, everyone is that kind of people.”

Halfway down the drive, and in perfect synchronicity, they stopped and turned back to look at the house.

“What do you think?” Spike asked as they studied the compact frontage, pristine white walls and blue stained glass that virtually glowed in the moonlight.  “Posh?  Or plain barmy?”

“Don’t know.  Don’t care.”  Xander put his arm around Spike and hugged him close.  “It’s home.”

…

At Xander’s direction, Spike drove a long, meandering route back into town.

“Why d’you need to put this off?”

“I’m not putting it off, I need a little more thinking time, that’s all.  They’re going to be shocked enough by the way I look, I don’t want to scare them any more by making it sound like I’m leaving them rather than just leaving the house.”

“I still have your patch,” Spike offered.  “Might make the timing a little easier.  Wear that and you can whip it off when everyone’s been primed.”

“Yeah,” Xander said thoughtfully.  Glumly.

“You want my advice?  Go for it.  No pretence, no pussy-footing.  Seems to me, the harder a fellow tries to get things right, the more inclined things are to go wrong.”

Xander considered.

“I think that might be just us.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh.  Right.”

“But no patch.  Okay.  Okay.”

Pause.

“You’ve not seen anyone at all since you’ve been home?”

“No, not yet.”

“Why?”

“I’ve spoken to them, but…  I asked to be left alone.  Asked,” Xander snorted, amazed by his own rudeness.  “I told them to back off.”  Spike glanced questioningly over.  “I needed time to…  I’ve been trying to get over you, to get used to the idea of people asking about you, especially after what I wrote in my letters.”  Spike bit his lip and kept quiet about the shouldn’t-have-been-mailed, Dead Xander letters.  “I didn’t want them to feel bad for me, and I wasn’t sure I could cover up how losing you had left me feeling.”

Xander reached across and squeezed Spike’s thigh, needing a solid reminder that this was real, that Spike was actually here.  Spike flexed his muscles beneath Xander’s clenched fingers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Spike promised him, leaving Xander wondering if he’d inadvertently spoken aloud of his need, or if he was simply too obvious for words.

“Except for LA,” Xander corrected.

“Would you not trample all over my sentimental gestures?”

“Sorry.  You’re not going anywhere.”

“Except for LA.”

Xander glared and Spike snickered.

“Are we moving before you go?” Xander asked.  “Or after you go…?”

“Up to you.”

“If it’s up to me, I think…I think it depends when you go.”

“When would you like me to go?”

“That’s up to me too?”

“Yep.”

“Then…go as soon as possible.  The sooner you go, the sooner you get back.  You said you’d be gone a couple days?”

“Something like that.”

“It would give me the chance to get packed up and ready to move.  It would also give me the chance to wrap my head around the fact that this is actually happening.”

“But if I leave you won’t look after yourself properly, and you’re still not entirely fit.”

“Two days, Spike.  I’ll be okay for two days.”

“Maybe I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Hey, c’mon, I’m…”

Spike angrily thumped the steering wheel.

“You died.  Remember?  I’m still trying to get over how bloody useless and helpless that makes me feel, so you’ll have to deal with me refusing to risk your wellbeing.”

Taken aback by Spike’s vehemence, Xander patted the vampire’s thigh until he looked over, clenched jawed and watery eyed.

“It’s okay, Baby,” Xander soothed.  “It’s okay, I’m okay.”  Spike swallowed hard and briskly nodded, turning his attention back to the road.  “I wasn’t dismissing your feelings over what happened, but…  I don’t want to feel weak either.”

Spike’s hand dropped onto Xander’s.

“Course you don’t.  Sorry.”

“We’ll heal.  Together.  We’ll be okay now we’re together.”

“Fucking hell, I am so embarrassed that I actively want to hear this namby-pamby rot from you.”

Xander’s turn to snicker; Spike’s turn to glare.

“Maybe you’re just pretending to in a bid to get laid,” Xander helped him out.

“Cling to that, can I?”

“Yes, you can.”

“When do I get laid?”

Xander shrugged.

“If my house is out of the question we’ll need to find a romantic little back alley and…”

“When we’re done at the Stokes’, we can nip over to yours for a few essentials and then go to the—  Then go home.  Christen the place.”

“Go home,” Xander repeated to himself, still not truly able to imagine the white house being theirs.  “Weird.”

“Not coming to your senses, are you?”

“No.  I mean…  Yes, that sounds like a good idea.  Maybe this will start feeling…real.”

Spike could appreciate that, but now he was on a promise, he turned his thoughts to what had to be endured before he could claim his prize.

“The chapel,” he said.  “How’s this going to play out?  Your friends will be happy to have you back but pissed off that I’m with you?”

“Happy to have me back and, hopefully, happy that I’m happy.”

“Will Medusa cry?”

“God, no.  H’ll cry.  And me, I’ll probably cry.”

“Any last words of advice?”

“With anyone else I’d say just be yourself.  But with you…that’s kinda what I’m afraid of.”

…

They paused for a moment outside the chapel: Xander ecstatic to be back but nervous nevertheless; Spike determined to make a success of the evening for Xander’s sake.  This very spot held certain memories, and Spike smiled as he recalled.

“This is where I came in.”

“And this is where I come out.  Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck, you have charm, talent, friends and me.”

“Damn it.  Gimme the patch.  You were right about timing.”  Spike reluctantly handed the patch over and Xander tugged it on.  “I hate this thing.”

“Don’t be like that.”  Xander looked irritably to Spike.  “Nowadays it’s too inconsequential to hate.  For a man, like yourself, with two eyes, it’s little more than playing pirate.  And I know you’ve done that, in fact, I think Anya might have mentioned…”

“Yes, okay, enough!  Thank you.  Inconsequential.  Okay.”

“You still have the rest of the outfit?”

“No,” Xander snapped.  Spike grinned wickedly and Xander relented.  “But it’s an easy one to make up.”

“Meanwhile it’s just as well that I nicked that white coat and stethoscope from Bunny, eh?”

“I don’t…” Xander frowned.

“What?  You can’t see the potential in having Doctor Spike call by to give you a thorough examination?”

Xander glazed over.

“Fuck.”

“Later though.”

“Fuck.”

“When we’re done here.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

…

Hugs and excitement greeted Xander once they were inside, and it took nearly half-an-hour to get past the front of house volunteers and into the auditorium, where they sat in the back row and watched Douglas at work.  The fact that the medium’s arm was out of plaster and apparently fully functional was a great relief to Xander, but made the uber-nasty’s violent attack on this quiet little place and its harmless inhabitants much harder to accept.  The start of this adventure had been horribly unbelievable and the end…  Xander glanced at Spike, who was as fascinated as ever by the readings and unaware of Xander’s attention.  The end was wonderfully unbelievable.

Xander took Spike’s hand and squeezed, being shot a happy smile before Spike turned straight back to hang on Douglas’ every word as he delicately picked through a very complicated and equally entertaining evidentiary statement.

Staring around the place, looking for nonexistent changes and seeing instead dozens of recognisable faces, Xander could feel the difference in himself.  The tranquillity that came from belonging to this particular community, a renewed faith in humanity engendered by being in the company of some of the kindest, most trusting people it had ever been his pleasure to meet.

“I love this place,” he murmured, and Spike distractedly rubbed his fingers.

He’d live and die here, and be happy to do so, even if it was the kind of uninspiring backwater that Spike had belittled.  He’d had his turn in the spotlight and what a great learning curve that had proved to be.  Having discovered himself to be, in most respects, a rather sensible individual, the closest he wanted to be to that spotlight in future was occasionally polishing the bulb.

A wave of laughter and an outburst of applause greeted the conclusion of Douglas’ reading, and Xander grinned at the stage when he saw Douglas shaking his head and laughing along having battled to the end of the intricate communication.

“That’s about it for the night, but I do have one last message,” Douglas told the audience, and with a fond smile his focus settled on Xander.  “It’s for Xander.  Welcome home; we’ve missed you.”

Another burst of applause greeted that, and Xander half-rose, gave an embarrassed wave, and quickly sat again.

“Nice sentiment,” Spike coolly observed.

“You promised.”

“I know, I was just saying…”

“Be nice.”

“Naturally.  You think I’m going to do anything to risk a shag tonight?”

Xander tutted and bowed his head, automatically responding to the blessing that Douglas recited to end the evening’s session.  Non-religious and all-encompassing, Spike let the words flow over him and willed himself into his new role as Xander’s…whatever.  That felt good, acknowledging himself as Xander’s…whatever in the chapel, mentally staking his claim on the man in this place, where just about everybody had a head start on him when it came to Xander’s affections.  Yes, okay, they had a time advantage, but none of them were as gorgeous and glorious and irresistible as…

“Spike.  You want to move?”

“Eh?”

“Move?”

Spike glanced around at the gradually clearing hall, and the cluster of regulars waiting to personally welcome Xander home.

“Right.”

Spike stood and let Xander past, watching with satisfaction as the fan club genteelly mobbed his bloke.  Bit of a boost to Xander’s confidence, and a confident Xander was a horny, wild and willing thing.

It was obvious that the Colbergs were hanging back until the competition for Xander’s attention had left the hall, and Douglas had disappeared somewhere backstage.  Simone and Henry were discussing Xander’s dodgy choice of companion, Spike could tell, with their worried faces and surreptitious glances, and he gave them a cheerfully cocky wave.  They managed to smile back, plainly Making An Effort, and then Henry made a comment that Simone obviously chided him for.  Spike snickered to himself.  Nothing like causing a little disharmony in the opposition ranks.

Then Xander was free of his fans and rushing forward to greet his friends, throwing himself into two sets of open arms and enjoying the kind of three-way hug that rang of old times.  Spike strolled down the aisle to join them, being amiably greeted by Douglas as he emerged from a side door, and having his hand thoroughly shaken.

“It’s wonderful to see you both,” Douglas enthused, and he oomphed as Xander switched his attention, driving the air out of his mentor with a huge hug.

Having made up his mind to get the new eye revelation over as soon as possible, Xander dithered away from Douglas, shared a fortifying look with Spike, then turned to his friends.

“I have a surprise for you.  Shock, maybe.  Good shock.  And…and…”

“Get on with it, Love.”

“Okay.  Okay.”

Xander took a deep breath.  Then another.

“Should we be sitting down for this?” Henry asked.

Xander grinned nervously and shrugged and took a further breath.

“Okay.”

It was, understandably, quite a moment when Xander removed the patch, and Spike observed the reactions keenly.  He read in their expressions how well these people appreciated the momentousness of what had occurred, and how much they felt for Xander.  Delighted amazement from Doug, fiercely controlled emotion from Simone although she virtually shook with the effort, and, much as Xander had predicted, it was Henry who was completely overwhelmed and burst into tears.  Xander grabbed and cuddled him while the others joined in with general fussing.

“But how?” Henry demanded, “and why only now?”

Xander wavered over his answer, unsure of how much he was allowed to divulge.

“It’s a new procedure,” Spike intervened, sounding terribly official.  “Unfortunately, we’re not permitted to tell you any more than that.”

“As it if matters how,” Simone dismissed the subject.  “It’s done.”  She guided Xander around to face her.  “You can see?  I mean, it’s not just cosmetic?”

“I can see.”

Her gaze turned to one of utter glee.

“This is so…right.”

“You mean a second eye doesn’t appear ostentatious?” Xander teased.

“I mean you deserve this.”

Fed up with the intense jealousy stirred by seeing so many hands on his mate, Spike wandered off to the rear of the auditorium, reading notices on the boards, studying leaflets on tables, trying to fool himself that he wasn’t eavesdropping every word, every breath.  One of the chapel’s huminions was bringing around refreshments and, having helped himself to a mug of tea, Spike took a booklet on the Stokes’ and its group from one of the neat piles, and sat to read.  Unlikely as it seemed, he was soon engrossed.  The prospect of another road trip loomed large: he wanted to take Xander to all of these venues and show him off.  Spike was just analysing ways of changing Xander’s mind about more prominent exposure of his psychic talents, convinced that Xander’s abilities, plus his looks and appealing personality, would make him the perfect TV medium, when a passing hand landed on his shoulder and he glanced around just as Douglas took a seat along the row.

“Thank you, Spike.  You said you’d take care of Xander and you obviously did an excellent job of it.”

“That’s his version, I take it?”

“Yes.  But…he’s very reluctant to talk about more than his psychic experiences.”  Spike nodded his understanding of that.  “We would – or rather would we – be told if he was anything other than as fine as he protests he is?”

“You’d know: he’s like an open book.”

“I do worry.  Well, we all do, we can’t help it.”

“No need any more, he has me.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Douglas dismissed the suggestion, continuing before Spike could take offence, “We’ll simply find a reason to worry about you too.  Jenny – that would be the lady with the refreshments – already thinks you’re way too pale.”

Spike chuckled at that, determined to find the concern amusing rather than irritating.

“Natural pallor.  She’ll need to find a better excuse for her concern.”

Douglas hmmed, studying Spike curiously, but not offensively.  Convinced by Xander of this man’s skills, Spike wondered if he could somehow sense the demon, or if he was looking at a Spike surrounded by a host of spectral victims.  Or maybe he saw the soul.  Or maybe…

“Have you noticed a change in Xander?”

Presumably, Douglas didn’t mean the sideward step, pseudo-straight boy to unabashed homo-flexual.

“What kind of change?”

“In his work.  I no longer see him struggling for control, and he feels…”

“Oh, right, that.  Yes.  He’ll probably choose to deny it but he’s definitely sharper now: I’ve seen him improve with every reading.”

“Why should he choose to deny it?”

“Because…”  Spike paused, sure that the uber-nasty’s intervention had made the difference, but unsure if Xander wanted to admit that fact, let alone share it.  “There’s…stuff…involved,” Spike said cagily.

“You too,” Douglas sighed.  “Xander’s been tight-lipped about what happened beyond his psychic experiences and it makes me….  Back to worrying, I’m afraid, I told you it was unavoidable.”

A twinge of pity at the unease on the medium’s face, and Spike made a swift decision.

“Up to me to put you out of your misery then.  Short version, to be kept to yourself: we left here, found a murderer, Xander almost got lynched, and then he was practically eaten alive by non-existent bugs.  Some woman with an undead dead husband made a pass and forced Xander and me to have sex, then Xander almost got snatched, we sorted out a kidnapper, I fell in love, Xander saved the world, and I saved Xander by killing him.  Non-permanently, as you’ll have noticed.”

Douglas blinked hard.

“Oh.  Wow.”

“See?” Spike grinned.  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

A moment or two for all that to sink in, and then Douglas, tongue firmly in cheek, couldn’t resist asking…

“What did you do on your days off?”

“There was time, actually, to write up some reports.  Between the squabbling and shagging.  He’s going to get paid for them too.  That’ll be good for him, self-worth and all that.”

Douglas smiled, and Spike wasn’t sure at what, but the next question was the giveaway.

“Did Xander fall in love too?”

The blasé response that Spike longed to give came and went.

“I don’t know.  He fell out of hate.  Into friendship.”  Spike shrugged.  “For whatever reason, he wants me here.  He’s…attached.  That’ll do for starters.”

There was a long, thoughtful pause before Douglas rose to go.

“I hope you’ll be very happy together,” he said sincerely, and patted Spike’s shoulder once again on the way past.

“Hang on.”  Douglas turned back.  “Are you in charge here?”

“Yes, jointly with…”

“I have something for you.”

Spike reached into his coat and brought out a tightly packed envelope bearing a Vree’vathet seal.  He immediately handed it over.

“This is…?”

“Little pressie for this place.  Happy Christmas.”

…

“You’re leaving?” Simone was asking Xander elsewhere, aghast and upset at once.

“No, no, no,” Xander assured her.  “Moving, I’m – we’re – moving.”

“How far away?  Will we still get to see you?”

“It’s not that far out of town, about twenty minutes from you.  You ever notice a big pair of gates set back from the road on the way to Farringdon?  You know that really sharp curve?  Just after that, on the left.  Trees, loads of trees, and there are these gates.”  Simone thought, sighed, and shook her head.  “You have to come see the house, it’s so cool.  It belongs to a friend of Spike’s and he letting us rent at a really good price, and…”  Xander’s enthusiastic spiel came to an abrupt halt.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

“Have you thought this through?  It all seems such a rush.”

“The house?  Or Spike?”

“I have not said one word against Spike,” Simone told him crossly.

“No, I know.”

“I’m just concerned that you may be cutting yourself off from…”

“Hey, wait, I’m not doing that, and it isn’t anything Spike wants.  One of the reasons he has for moving here is to support my work, he respects what I do.  And…as for rushing things…  Okay, yes, this happened fast, but it only happened too fast if you’re on the outside looking in, I promise you.  I feel as if I’ve been standing still for years.  Emotionally.  I’ve been too much of a coward to take any chances, to believe that anyone could want me despite the eye, despite the disruption from the voices, despite me being…a loser.”

“Xander!  You are not…”

“Emotionally, yes, I was.  One day I’ll tell you more about my past and you’ll understand.  But right now, I have to do this, it’s like I’m finally acting my age, I’m ready to take a chance.”

“Spike’s the one?”

Xander smiled a huge smile.

“Ah, he’s great.  I was terrified to get involved with him, I kept putting him off, and he kept coming back, and he made me accept a lot about who I am.  Sometimes I need somebody who won’t be as diplomatic as you and H and all my other friends here.  What’s more…  C’mere, feel this.”  Simone moved a little closer and Xander took her hand, placing it on his chest.  Then he looked across the hall to where Spike sat in conversation with Douglas.  Predictably, one look at Spike and his heart began to race.  Simone felt it and her brow crinkled with barely concealed emotion; she rapidly gave up on trying to find the right words, simply giving him a quick hug before attempting to regain her composure.  “I’m not a loser anymore, Simone.  I deserve to feel like this.”

“Yes, you do,” Simone agreed as she finally found her voice.

“I’m not a big enough fool to think that Spike’s going to stick around indefinitely, but some decisions are irresistible.  Being with Spike now – which I’ll probably be convinced is the stupidest of all stupid decisions when he eventually goes – feels fantastic.  I feel fantastic.”

“I hope he appreciates what he’s got.”

Xander placed an arm around her shoulders and grinned.

“Isn’t that where you fit in?”

Simone perked up.

“You feel the occasional reminder would be appropriate?”

“Go for it, terrorise him all you want in the name of friendship.  He thrives on friction and I don’t want him getting bored.”

“Xander…  You know me well enough to understand that I have to make up my own mind about Spike.”

“I don’t expect anything less.  But if you never get to like him I hope you’ll respect me enough to keep that to yourself.  At least…as best you can.”

“I will never put pressure on you over a choice of partner.  Of course, Kirsty may not be so forgiving.”

“Hey, I’ve been a good boy for years, I deserve a love triangle.”

With a chuckle, Simone brushed him off and marched away to complete her post-session duties.  Xander looked around for Henry, wanting to check that he was recovered from the earlier shock, but instead of catching sight of him, he saw Douglas, post-Spike, staring at something in his hands and looking utterly stunned.

“Doug?”

They both began walking and the moment they met up Douglas was thrusting an envelope full of cash in Xander’s direction.

“Have you seen this?  From Spike.”

“He told me he was making a donation, yes.”

“Six-and-a-half thousand dollars, he says.”

“Yup.  A client of his left it to him,” Xander explained, offering a publicly acceptable version of the Uund’d’tar saga.

“But…”

“Take it.  Really.”

“You don’t…”

“He wouldn’t give it away if we needed it.  Plus, he has a good argument about old ladies asses and uncomfortable seats.”

“Old ladies asses.  That’s a unique entry for the donation ledger.”

“Okay, now that he’s bought your affection…what do you think of Spike?” Xander joked, before adding, earnestly, “I know he can be a little blunt, but he’s a good guy.”

“I can see that.  There’s nothing wrong with blunt, either, blunt can be quite refreshing.”

“Yeah, but don’t encourage him or he’ll scare H to death.”

“And he loves you, which is good to know.”

“He…uh…  You shouldn’t presume…”

“I’m not presuming anything.  He told me.”

“He…?”

“He told me.  He’s in love with you.”

They shouldn’t have been such a bombshell, or such an emotional wrench, but those words were all that was needed to fulfil a little more of Xander’s earlier prophecy: his own tears were most definitely on their way.

Spike returned from chatting up the front of house contingent to witness Xander being cuddled by his mentor and, whatever promises had been made, alleged nice guy or not, this was where Douglas met his.

“What are your plans?” Simone’s voice came from his left before he could take a step.  “Are you staying with Xander?”

Spike postponed the intimidation of Douglas and considered his answer, knowing that this could be a pivotal moment in how much flack he would take from Simone in the future.  How much grief Xander would suffer at having Spike constantly at odds with one of the cornerstones of this life.

“My plans…”  Simone stopped the shuffling of two handfuls of papers bearing spiritual healing requests to look at Spike, scrutinizing him with not entirely masked anxiety.  Anxious for Xander, caring for Xander, and didn’t that put them on the same side?  He forcibly set aside his natural inclination to tease and antagonise her, consoling himself that, going by the hostile looks he’d been shot, he would always have the pleasure of tormenting Henry.  Spike decided to try what had been so successful with Xander.  Honesty.  “Yes, I plan to stay with Xander.  For as long as he’ll have me.”

“Or until you get bored?” Simone challenged.

“I don’t, strange as it may seem.  When I fall I fall hard, and I’m the faithful type.  It’s usually me that gets dumped or deserted.”

It was a more astonishing sight than anything Spike had encountered in the last months: a flash of sympathy from Medusa.  She went back to her shuffling.

“He looks wonderful.”

Spike stared across the hall at Xander.

“Mmm,” he agreed distractedly.  “He is.  Does,” he corrected himself, but Simone was already smiling at him, and that was peculiarly nice, if a little disturbing.

“I’m sorry if I misjudged you.”

“I was misjudged?  Oh, that’s a shock,” Spike said flatly.

“I’m prepared to admit my mistakes if you’re prepared not to be one.”

Spike swallowed down a growl.

“I am the best thing that’s happened to Xander in years, and…”

“I know.”

“…and…and…  You do?  What then?  You’re just taking my word for it?”

“Your word, Xander’s judgement.”

At Spike’s quizzical expression, Simone set the papers aside, collecting her purse from a nearby drawer and rifling through its contents before bringing out a letter.  Spike recognised his firm’s stationary immediately.

“I shouldn’t have sent that, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Simone dismissed his apology with an airy flick of the hand and scanned the letter until she found what she’d been looking for.  She quoted:

“‘Unlikely, I know, but this guy turned out to be so special.  I had such a great time with him before the end, I remembered what it was like to have fun, I got to have someone to hold me all night and give me peace.  He was never freaked out by what I am, or how I looked.  He didn’t see the damage, he saw me.  I found someone who didn’t have unrealistic expectations of me as a person, regardless of what he expected from the medium.  I’d have to be crazy not to love him and right now I might just be the sanest person in the vicinity.’”

Contrary to Xander’s beliefs, Spike had not read his goodbye letters, and had taken great care to protect Xander’s privacy while printing them out.  He felt a swell of emotion at hearing Xander’s words, his praise of the vampire that had killed him.

“The affection…  Mutual,” he muttered.

“I’m not blind, Spike.”