“I’m yours.”

Xander froze.  Wasn’t that the one thing Spike wasn’t meant to say?  Wasn’t meant to say in a very big important way?

“Baby…”

“Mmm?”

“You said…  Uh…  Maybe I misheard.”

“What?”

“Well, you said…  No, you didn’t, I…”

“What did I sa—”

Spike matched Xander’s freeze.  He remained frozen as a jumble of fears and hopes and the requisite anticipation of great disaster rushed through him.

“Spike…  You…you…  Did you really say it?”

“I…yes.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Should I start running?” Xander asked, only half joking.

“I said…that.”

“Maybe, ‘cause you weren’t really awake, or…or…”

“I said it, didn’t I?”

“You…er…kinda…seemed to.  But you were sleepy, you didn’t mean it, and…”

“I meant it.”

“Should I be scared?”

Spike leaned up and shook his head, bringing back his human face.  He stared at Xander and Xander stared guardedly back.  With great trepidation, Xander touched a single fingertip to Spike’s chest.

“What?” Spike asked.

“Precisely.  In there.  What’s happening?”

“I…”

“You seem…calm.  Too calm.  Which worries me.”

“I—”

Spike thought and felt and blinked and swallowed hard.

“Well?”

“I’m yours,” Spike said definitely, in a bid to provoke a further reaction within himself.

“Don’t make it worse,” Xander urged, “don’t…don’t…don’t…”  Xander paused.  He frowned and gave Spike’s chest a harder prod.  “Isn’t anything happening?”

“Umm…”

“Where’s the terrifying stuff that makes the obnoxious worthwhile?”

“I…  Stop prodding me!”

“Or what?  You’ll tear me limb from limb?  Skin me alive?  Eviscerate me with your claws?”  Spike grabbed Xander’s hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the fingertips.  “Now you are truly scaring me.  Spike…”

“I can’t believe this.”

“What?  You can’t believe you’re not kicking me to the floor and making me your slave?”

“There are…fireworks in my heart, there’s a rollercoaster careering through my gut, and I could use my prick to chisel you a love letter in granite.”

“That’s…that’s…uh…impressive.  And deep down demony you?”

“I expected…I d’know…some kind of uncontrollable, wildly dangerous, over-possessive madness if I ever did it.  If I ever gave myself to you.”

“And?”

Spike paused in confusion as he analysed his feelings for the umpteenth time.

“Peace.  I think the fireworks and roller-coaster are more about the soul.  Give that bloody demon what it’s been screaming for and…just like that: peace.  Sort of smug bastardy ‘bout bloody time too peace, but…peace.”

“That’s…that’s…  No, wait.  This is it?  This is it?  Peace?  You mean…the obnoxious was for nothing?” Xander demanded with mounting indignation.

“Yes.  I mean, no.  I…  Love…  This is…”

“You broke my frigging heart for this?  Whatever it takes was for this?”

“Xander…”

“Obnoxious?  You wait, I’ll give you fucking obnoxious!”

“Xander!  I thought…  I didn’t know what to think, what to expect, and…whatever happened, you were going to hate me for it, for inflicting myself on you for ever, and I mean for ever.  You’d hate me and you’d tell me to go, and that would send me out of control and then I’d hurt you, seriously hurt you – none of this lightweight obnoxious bollocks – and maybe even turn you against your will.  I thought I’d destroy us.  Destroy us in every sense.  Fucking hell, Xan, it’s been torture,” Spike concluded in a shaking voice.

“Oh, sure, but—”  Xander fell abruptly silent as his brain caught up with his mouth.  “For…ever?” he asked in whisper.

“See!  I bet you’re already thinking about how you’re stuck with me and…and…  I’ve been trying so hard not to say it, Love.  You’re all I want and I couldn’t risk losing you, I couldn’t…”

Xander grabbed Spike and cuddled him close.

“You’ve got me.  It’s okay, you’ve got me.  More to the point…I’ve got you.  I want to be stuck with you.  For ever’s good.  God, I’m such a selfish bastard.  I don’t care if you’re traumatised so long as I get what I want.”

“Works both ways.”

“Not true.  You’ve been looking out for me.  I told you, didn’t I?  Your goodness is less questionable than mine.  Jeez, I’d hate to inherit a new soul, the old one took enough running in.”

“Does this mean…”

“I’m happy.  You’re mine, and for ever, and I’m…I’m…  There isn’t a big enough word for how happy I am.”

The tension drained from Spike’s body and he slumped into Xander’s embrace; this much honesty was more than exhausting.  Plus fireworks, rollercoasters, and—

“It almost makes sense.  The peace.”

“It does make sense,” Xander agreed, “and it’s wonderful.  But will it last?”

“D’know.  I do know the obnoxious is a thing of the past.”

“That’s a relief.”

“And I know I’ll never hurt you.”

“That’s a bigger relief.  I’m a coward as well as a selfish bastard.”

“Good.  They’re the kind of qualities that’ll keep you alive.”

Xander chuckled and moved Spike into a kissable position, taking full advantage of it, neither of them realising they’d fallen asleep kissing until they woke the next morning.

…

“Oh, shit, fuck, no, no!  Spike!”

Spike woke with a jolt to find himself smothered by bedclothes and boyfriend, with said boyfriend suffering from sheer panic.

“Xander?”

“Wait, you’ll be okay, I’ll fix the drapes, I’ll…you…fuck, how could I have been so careless!”

“Xander…”  Spike struggled from Xander’s protective bundle.  “Special glass, Love, remember?”

“Spe…spec—  Oh.  Oh.  Yes.  Fuck.”

With an unsympathetic snigger Spike sat up and attempted to pull Xander to him, being quickly and thoroughly slapped away.

“Petal.  Think I was about to spontaneously combust?”

Xander glared.

“Not funny.”

“Well, what do you expect?  There’s me, romantic soul that I am, expecting the first waking moments in our new home to be all sweet and fluffy, and instead you’re trying to smother me.”

“Sweet and fluffy, my ass,” Xander grumped.  “And don’t go there!”

“But it is…”

Xander hurled himself at Spike, tackling him and aping the vampire’s growl, but the irritation quickly turned to euphoria, and the tussle became one enthusiastic smooch.

“You’re here.  Spike, you’re actually here.  That was never gonna happen, not in a million years.”

“It was always going to happen.”

“I have taken this way too calmly.  Today…today it’s sinking in and I’m gonna be…unbearable.”

“Unbearable?  Why?  Can’t you think of something new?”

Xander whapped Spike with a pillow and squirmed off the bed, thinking he’d escaped Spike’s revenge until he was two steps from the bathroom door and suddenly snatched up, twisted about, and found himself sitting in Spike’s arms with his legs wrapped around slim hips that were already moving suggestively, jabbing Spike’s erection at his buttocks.

“What are—  We can’t, not like…”

“Tell you what…  Let’s have a nice shag and then we’ll discuss whether or not it’s possible.”

“Spike!  Let me down!  You’ll drop me or…”

“No, I won’t.  Hold on tight and I’ll secure you with…this.”

Spike positioned Xander over his cock and lowered him, too fast for objections or a successful struggle.  With a shuddering gasp Xander accepted the vampire’s erection into his body, still slick and sensitive from their previous session.  Flinging his arms around Spike’s neck in an attempt to find that elusive tight hold, Xander eventually found the best grip, fingers wound firmly into Spike’s hair.  It stung, that grip, and Spike delighted in it, grinning madly as he held a deliciously round buttock in either hand and excitedly bounced Xander up and down his rampant prick.

“Too much,” Xander panted, “Spike…too much.”

“Doesn’t hurt.”

“God, fuck, no, but…”

“On fire, aren’t you?  Inside.”

Xander nodded frantically and made incoherent pleading noises, but Spike didn’t pause for a moment; no mercy for Xander’s delicate prostate as it was pounded into a state of extreme arousal.

“Spike…”

“’S’all right, Love, you know how I’ll cool you down.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.  Kiss me.”

“When I can’t fucking breathe?”

“Best time,” Spike laughed, catching Xander’s mouth with his own, easing his pace a little to humour Xander’s need for oxygen.

Xander’s initial panic passed and he trusted Spike not to drop him, as precarious as this felt.  It was extraordinary to be out of control to this extent, knowing Spike’s strength, his determination, and being hopelessly turned on by the knowledge that an orgasm could be battered from him whether he wanted it or not.  Which he did, naturally.  On his own terms.  Or maybe Spike’s.  But surely…

The mental debate was irrelevant.  Spike was picking up speed again, effortlessly and relentlessly guiding Xander’s body up and down his cock until the human was a gibbering wreck once more.  Spotting the perfect tool with which to stimulate Xander’s voyeuristic tendencies, Spike took a few steps across the room, positioning himself perfectly.

“Xander.”

“Uh…”

“Love.  Look.”

With a mighty effort Xander opened his eyes, just enough to see his reflection in a vast mirror that ran from floor to ceiling.  No Spike in this un-hexed glass, and Xander caught his breath as he saw himself floating in mid-air, flushed and sweaty, erection rigid and straining, glossy with pre-come, his balls tight to his body, ready to shoot, his ass stretched and open, appearing to pulse as Spike fucked and fucked.

An erotic overload; Xander reflexively tightened his grip on Spike, crying out and coming despite being untouched, his semen spraying between them as Spike continued to work his lover on his cock, keeping up the pounding rhythm even when Xander was on the verge of passing out.

“Please,” Xander gasped, and that entreaty was enough, Spike roaring triumphantly as he permitted himself to come, quenching the fire inside Xander with chilly spurts of semen that made Xander’s ass reflexively clench around him, milking him until his knees were trembling with the effort of remaining upright.

Staggering to the bed, Spike fell onto it, Xander still clamped to him.

“Knee,” Xander moaned, and Spike lethargically rearranged their bodies, straightening Xander’s left leg and giving the joint a quick, apologetic rub.

Flopping at Xander’s side he threw an arm around him and squeezed.

“I’m yours, Xander.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Totally yours.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Totally.  Yours.”

…

No panic as Xander woke up this time around.  He wriggled out of Spike’s grasp and finally made it to the bathroom, taking his time over his ablutions and cosseting his poor, abused backside before wandering back into the bedroom and gazing out of the picture window.  He watched the birds in the grounds and wondered if any of his regulars would know to follow him here, and he considered the move, whether this really was the right choice for him.  He looked around the bedroom with its plush fittings and pristine fixtures.

“Not exactly me,” he sighed, although he wanted it to be him, he wanted to be the lucky guy with the snazzy house and the fabulous boyfriend.

“You’ll grow into it,” Spike told him as he rolled and stretched out across the bed.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

They smiled at one another, and Xander joined Spike, sprawling over him and nuzzling his neck.  Kisses and cuddles with the fabulous boyfriend in the snazzy house: things could be a lot worse.

“Thank you for last night,” Xander murmured.  “I appreciate how difficult that must have been for you and I’m grateful that you made such an effort.  I think even H may like you eventually.”

“Ah, no, don’t spoil our fun.  I miss the old Rupert, y’know, the one that thought I was utter shite.  Mr Christ Church, Economics, was obviously contaminated with a Watcher-esque brand of inane pomposity at Oxford and I rather like that.”

“I’m sure he’d be very flattered to hear it.”

“I like a challenge.”

“That’s what Simone’s for.”

“Nah.  Bloody pushover, just like you.  The whole gig was easier than I expected.”

“You think you can be happy here?”

“Can you?  Still want your old place?”

“I want this place but, like you said, I need to grow into it.  I want this house, and I want you, and I’m gonna be very happy.”

“Nice,” Spike chuckled.  “Count me in.”

“Money.  I want my own money.  I think maybe I could take on some carpentry work.  If I’m sleeping well my concentration’s going to be better, I could go back to that now.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to.  I want to buy you more than tea at the Savoy when we go to England.”

“What about your reports?”

“They’re not going to provide a regular income.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Oh, whatever,” Spike grouched.  “Just don’t desert me every day for hours on end.”

“I won’t do that, I don’t want to.  It’s just that the reports…  You’ll help me, won’t you?  To write the report about Escolet?”

Spike nodded.

“And I’ll make sure you get a small fortune for it.  Then you won’t need to…”

“Yes, I will.  Occasionally.  Does that sound better than regularly?”

“Barely.”

That’d do as a yes.  Xander sighed contentedly and snuggled.  Wrapped in Spike’s embrace it was easier to think about the uber-nasty’s invasion of his person.

“What do you remember most about the Dead Guy Event?” he asked Spike.  “I know there’s a lot to choose from but…”

Spike gave a caustic snort.

“For you, maybe.”

“For you?”

“Do you remember when he took you over?  Or rather, what do you remember from then?”

“Very little.  It was like…he had the run of the house, and I was locked in the attic.”

“You don’t know what he said to me?”

“No.”  Xander had the mandatory bad feeling about this.  “Do I want to?”

“I doubt it.  But…  No, doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does.”  Xander prised himself from Spike’s increasingly tense hold and leaned up, reaching across and turning Spike’s face to him, seeing the distress there.  He was suitably appalled.  “You have to tell me.  You have to.”

“Honestly, what’s to tell?  He was a sly, manipulative bastard, you can guess what he said.”

“Tell me.”

Spike pulled away and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for his jeans.

“Fancy breakfast?  I’m not much of a cook but I’ll have a go if you like.”

“Spike, you have to…”

“What?” Spike snapped.  “I have to be made miserable just to satisfy your curiosity?”

Xander was rapidly at Spike’s side, arm around him despite the ‘fuck off’ attitude.

“If there’s something making you miserable I want to know about it.”

“I didn’t say…”

“Yes, you did.  However you phrased it, yes, you did.”

“I’m not prepared to…”

Spike began to stand but Xander was ready for that, quickly toppling Spike back onto the bed and straddling him, hands pressed flat to Spike’s chest as if, by some miracle, that could keep him there if he really wanted to escape.  A tinge of gold in his eyes, Spike glared meanly.

“You know what a nuisance I can be if I want something,” Xander reminded him.  “You may as well get it over with.”

This was actually, Spike reasoned, a good position to be in, especially if there was a possibility of distracting Xander from his interrogation.  He very pointedly began to study Xander’s body, gaze meandering down the man’s smooth skin, until—  Scars.  Oh, fuck.  Scars.  No wonder Xander hadn’t tried to put a halt to the wandering attention, he had Spike exactly where he wanted him.  Spike looked back up to Xander’s face and saw.  Xander knew him, knew how his mind worked, knew when to let him hang himself with his own rope.  Pleasantly weak from that, from the thrill of being known, Spike was no longer prepared to fight; he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

“He could see straight through me,” Spike confessed with some difficulty.  “Escolet.  He could see how desperate I am.  Desperate to belong, to stop losing.  More than desperate not to lose you.”

“You didn’t,” Xander assured, “remember you didn’t.”

“But I could have.  And…when he said he was keeping your body, he said…  He told me he’d keep me too, and that way I’d never lose you.”

“What an asshole, did he really think…”

“That I’d be tempted?  Yes.  Yes.  I was, Xander.  For one terrible, self-centred billionth of a second I was tempted.”

“That long, huh?”

Making a joke of it for Spike’s sake, but Spike could hear that Xander was shaken by his admission.  Honesty.  This needed honesty.  More honesty.  However much it hurt.

“He said he’d learn to love me.  Something I’d never get from the real you.”

“He—  Tell me you didn’t believe that.”

“Xander…  I…”

“I’m telling you now, don’t believe that,” Xander insisted, emphatically and with a thump to Spike’s chest as if he could pound reality into the vampire.

“We’ve never said…”

“That’s right, we haven’t, because we know all about tempting fate.  But I mean what I can say.  I’m yours.  Mind, body, soul, heart, entirely, yours.”

“And I’m yours,” Spike added softly, still in awe of those potent words.

“Yes.  He was wrong, he was very, very wrong.”  Xander climbed off Spike’s lap and pulled the vampire to his feet, holding and kissing him, kissing him and, more than ever, meaning it.  “C’mon.  I’ll make breakfast.  We can talk about moving furniture around and spare rooms and making a library to impress Giles and…”

“Not talk about Dead Guy?”

Xander paused in thought before venturing,

“How about we ditch the report?  I’m a medium, not a writer.”

“I write, you edit.”

“You write, I edit, you re-edit.”

“I write, you edit, I re-edit, we make a huge pile of dosh,” Spike concluded.

Hmmm.

“Tell Giles…we’ll take a cheque.”

…

“You’ll soon settle in,” Spike assured Xander over their very late breakfast.  “At the moment there’s nothing of yours here…”

“Except for you,” Xander smugly interjected.

“Except for me,” Spike agreed.  “Once you have your own things around you…”

“How about yours?  Do you have stuff?  I don’t even know where you live in LA.”

“I have a few mementoes.  Nothing too offensive,” Spike grinned.

“Oh, joy.  Don’t tell me, surprise me.”

“What we need is a nice local.”

“A nice local what?”

“A local.  A pub.  Bar.  Beer, pool, darts, music, somewhere we can adopt and piss off the regulars.  I know you didn’t go out much before, but if I’m with you…”

Xander was already nodding.

“Yeah, that’d be good.  I used to like The Bronze.  No having to think where to go, it was automatically The Bronze.”

“Don’t know what there is around here, but we can investigate.”

“Walking distance would be nice.”

“We’ll have a look around.”

Xander nodded again, and finished up his coffee.

“How soon is too soon to start planning for Christmas?”

“Whenever you like.  There are a lot of people to coordinate so…”

“You think they’ll all come?”

“I don’t think you could keep ‘em away with exploding fortifications.”

“Taking nothing for granted here: does this house actually have exploding fortifications?”

“There are some buttons in the basement it might be fun to play with.”

A mischievous look passed between them, but before they had a chance to act on it, Xander’s cell phone rang.  Leaving the table and following the ringtone to his coat, Xander retrieved and answered the phone, turning his back on Spike as he wandered away, taking a monosyllabic part in what appeared to be a very one-sided conversation.

Once Xander was out of sight, Spike took one of the unused linen napkins from a pile they’d discovered, rummaged in the kitchen drawers for a pen, and then began to write.  He may have destroyed the crap poetry but he hadn’t forgotten it.  Listening carefully to ensure that Xander was still occupied, he wrote down the only verse that he felt had any merit – and that would be emotional rather than technical – then went to the bedroom to hide the napkin in Xander’s duffel.  Xander would appreciate the gesture, Spike knew, earning him a few good boyfriend points.  He also knew that Xander wouldn’t notice the flaws, he’d only see the words and the sincerity behind them.

This room already held some rather splendid memories; Spike lounged on the bed and rubbed himself through his jeans as he closed his eyes and re-lived having Xander at his mercy, trapped on his cock.  He’d have to get Zooza up here at Christmas, let him hex the mirrors.  Spike thought about him and Xander watching themselves fuck one another silly and rubbed a little harder.

“Spike.”

Spike slitted a single eye, peering at Xander’s gloomy face.

“Love?”

“I have to go,” Xander said as he hurriedly began to pack.

“What?  Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Why?  Or rather, who?”

“Nobody you know.”

“One of your bony-arsed fan club then,” Spike grouched.

“Yep,” Xander agreed, quickly gathering up the last of his belongings.  “I’m sure they didn’t do it just to inconvenience you, but one of the friends I’ve made here is at death’s door and the family would like me to pay a visit.”

“Oh.  I didn’t realise.”

“No, you didn’t.  I have to go.”

Spike watched, sour-faced, as Xander strapped on his knee brace and finished dressing.

“Urgent, is it?  I thought we could…”

“Spike,” Xander snapped.  “My friend has had three strokes in the past year, this latest one was massive and he’s dying.  I want to say goodbye.”

“But you can speak to him anytime.”

“For fuck’s sake!  Don’t be so damn selfish.”  Spike gave a dismissive shrug.  However much that irritated Xander he refused to get into a row, not when he had more important things on his mind.  “If you’re staying here, gimme the car keys.”

“I’ll drop you off.”

“If I was at home I could’ve walked in ten minutes.  Maybe this place is a bad idea.”

“Oh, fine.  Fucking fine!”

Spike stormed off and Xander glared after him, resenting the attitude, upset at the news, and itching to call Henry to ask to be collected and taken to where he really should be.

“I have responsibilities,” Xander said to the absent vampire.

“I know,” Spike agreed as he walked back into the room and fished under the bed for his boots.  “And I’m a contrary, self-centred bugger.  You keep your priorities in the right order, don’t let me try to take over or you’ll end up hating me.”

“You are a priority.  But you’ll still be alive tomorrow.”

Spike slung the duffel over his shoulder and they walked down to the garage in silence, both caught up in their own thoughts.  Not a word was exchanged until Spike needed directions, and then nothing more until they were sitting outside the home of Xander’s friend.

“Where are you going now?” Xander asked.  “You need the keys to my house?”

“No.  I’ll go to LA, like you suggested, finish up there.”

“You’re coming back?”

“You want me to?”

“Do I even have a choice anymore?  Since you said…what you said.”

“You can say it, Love.”

“Maybe it’s been said once too often.”

“Don’t you want me to come back?”

“Yes.  Of course I do.”

“Then…I’m coming back.  And there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Xander turned in his seat and pulled Spike into a hug.

“I’m upset right now, I can’t think straight.  But I’ll be okay, and we’ll be okay.”

“It’s the best thing for us, me being able to say what I feel.”

“Yes, I know, I want that.  We need to talk…”

“Or maybe we don’t.  Why can’t we try taking it all for granted?”  Xander agreed with a quick nod, soaking up the comfort of Spike’s presence and dreading being without him for as much as two days.  “I’ll miss you,” Spike said, pre-empting Xander’s own words.

“Me too.”

A brief kiss and Xander forced himself to act, moving to leave the car.

“Is there something I should say?” Spike asked.  “Y’know: your friend.”

“No.”  Xander gave him a sad smile.  “No set text.”  Another quick kiss.  “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“Do.”

“I may need to talk about…” Xander apologetically warned Spike, gesturing to the house.

“I’ll listen,” Spike assured.

Xander climbed out of the car and collected his duffel from the trunk before making his way up to the front door of the shabby little house.  Spike observed as an equally shabby, stick-thin old woman greeted him and was compassionately embraced.  Jealousy came and went, as Spike knew it must, because this was Xander, and this was what Xander did.  Hard to be possessive over a man who had to constantly give a share of himself away, be it time or attention or affection.  Hard not to be possessive when Spike wanted it all.

“You’re mine,” Spike whispered at Xander’s disappearing back, disgruntled, yet appreciating why there was no last look in his direction.  “And I’m yours.”

Still astounded by the peace that statement – that sentiment – brought him, Spike repeated it to himself as he drove away and concentrated on the lonely road that took him back to LA.

…

“Hey, Baby.  It’s…nine-forty…something in the morning, just got home.  …   You must be sleeping.  I’m going to try.  That’s probably a joke.  …  Wish you’d answered the phone, I could really do with hearing your voice right now.  …  Albie – that’s my friend – he’s gone, it was all very calm and quiet and I’m glad I was there.  Specially for Rita.  His wife.  I know we were all expecting this, but it’s heart-breaking.  She’s devastated.  …  Can’t imagine how that feels.  To love someone for fifty years, to be together for fifty years, and then…no more.  I was falling apart losing you after a couple days.  …  Makes me think of you and Dru and…I don’t know if I can help, if there’s any way I can bring her through for you, but I’m willing to try if it means finding you some closure.  …  This is…  I miss you, I want to be with you.  I feel so lonely.  …  You’re coming back, right?  Please come back, Spike, I know I wasn’t that nice when you left, but…  …  Okay, you don’t want to hear me whining.  I’m going to try to get some sleep, and I promise you I’ll eat later, I won’t go straight back to what you hate me doing.  …  And I’ll pack.  That’s…positive.  I’ll pack.  New home.  Cool.