PAIRING: Spike/Xander. .
GENRE : Slash
PROMPT: 064. Need.
WORD COUNT: 1202 words.

To [info]kimalis, I give beta credit to. Set Post Chosen and NFA.
DISCLAIMER: You recognize them? I don’t own them.

Said I Didn't Need You but I Lied


Spike knew Xander meant well, especially after the way they had broken up. It had been no one’s fault. Xander was just too wrapped up in work, and Spike was unable to travel with him, due to the lack of adequate shade in the places he went. Despite traveling the world with Drusilla, Spike was ready to settle down, and just spend time with the one he loved.

“Bloody Hell,” he groaned, sitting up. “I should just let the machine pick up. Probably another telemarketer, trying to sell me life insurance.” He jumped, realizing just who was on the machine.

“Hey, Spike. I just landed in Tokyo, and thought I’d give you a call before I hopped on the train to Kyoto. I miss you. Call me when you get this,”

A lump formed in Spike’s throat, at the mere sound of Xander’s voice.

He had tried to move on. Yet Xander was making it difficult, since he was determined to hold on to what they had once had.

The next night, Spike sat online, just surfing as a way of distraction. The small apartment had seemed even tinier since Xander left. Now, it was just a place to stay until the sun went down, and come back to when the sun came up.

A small box, signaling an instant message, popped up on the screen.

XanMan: I thought you hated Instant Messages.
AUTORESPONSE from DeadBlonde: Don’t know what I’m up to, but I ain’t here. Leave a message.

Two nights later, Spike found a small postcard with a picture of Mt. Fuji on the front in the mailbox. Turning it over, he read:

Missing you in Japan. I know why you’re ignoring me. Just wish you’d acknowledge me. –Xander.

Spike turned to the wall behind the mailbox, and pounded his head. Why wouldn’t Xander just let him heal? Didn’t he realize that he was only making an incredibly hard thing worse?

After seeing the postcard, he made a split decision to try and make this torment stop.

To: XanMan
From: DeadBlonde
Subject: Space to Heal.

You’re probably wondering why I’ve ignored your postcards, calls, and IMs. You need to give me space to heal. I still love you. I still want to be with you. Bloody Hell, Xan, you were my life. Despite the fact our split was mutual. I still need time to heal. Your leaving tore a hole in me that needs time to repair itself. Please give me time. I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.

The email kept Xander at bay for a few days, until Spike found a letter in his inbox.

To: DeadBlonde
From: XanMan
Re: Space to Heal.

I know you said you need space, but I can’t let go. I never wanted to leave. I know you, and you have the mouse hovering over the X, ready to delete and forget it. Please. Listen to what I have to say.
William the Bloody, I never meant to put work before you. Being a watcher can just get so complicated. I know. I know. That’s no excuse. Something wonderful died, because I couldn’t give you enough time out of my busy schedule. You should have been my first priority all along. What will it take for you to give me a second chance?
Love, Xander.

Spike shook his head. Xander was persistent. That had been part of the reason he had fallen for him in the first place. He was never going to take 'no' for an answer. He was going to do all he could to ensure he got Spike back.

He wondered if Xander knew just how hard he was to shake. He wondered if Xander knew how just how much Spike wanted him back.

The love they had shared was stronger than most. Towards the end, Xander had still been able to complete Spike’s every sentence. Towards the end, Spike had still loved waking up in Xander’s arms. Life with a watcher had just been too tough to get through. Neither had liked being apart, and Spike couldn’t travel where Xander went. Breaking up had been the best thing they could do.

Yet, neither had counted on not being able to let go.

To: DeadBlonde
From: XanMan
Subject: Day Twenty.

Tokyo's nice. We found three slayers in Kyoto.
Okay, enough small talk. I want to come back. Giles is giving me a six week vacation after I settle the girls in London.
Can I see you?

“I hate him,” Spike muttered, deleting the email. “I bloody hate what he's doing to me. Why the hell would I let him see me? I'm trying to get over him.”

To: DeadBlonde
From: XanMan
Subject: Day Twenty-One.

21 Days Since I saw you.
504 Hours since I kissed you.
30,240 Minutes since I called you Mine.
Take me Back.

Even through his haze of tears, Spike had to admit the email was sweet, heartfelt and mildly sappy, just the way their relationship had been.

To: DeadBlonde
From: XanMan
Subject: Day Twenty-two.

I know you're reading these. It's that wonderful little invention called 'Status'. Why don't you respond? Even a small reply...something to let me know you're still listening.
I've tried moving on, being happy without you. Do you know how difficult that is? I never realized JUST what I had until I lost you.
Giles has me delayed in Japan another two weeks.

Spike didn't hear from Xander after that. For five days, he deliberated on what to do. On the sixth day, just after nightfall and just before leaving the apartment, he sent Xander a quick message.

To: XanMan
From: DeadBlonde
Subject: Day 28

Show up at the Korakuen at sunset (7:03 PM) in two days. No questions.

To: XanMan
From: DeadBlonde
Subject: In the Air.

I just spent eighteen hours in Atlanta, hiding in a parking garage, to ensure the flight to Tokyo was completely at night. The Atlanta airport has too many damn windows. Only for you, Harris. How often do we say 'Oh. I'd go to the ends of the earth for you.' ? Rarely do we mean it. Yet, here I am, sitting next to a screaming two year old called Carol.
I tried to survive without you. I didn't want to look weak. We both agreed to this. Who knew we'd be more miserable apart than we are together?
Love, Spike.

Spike waited at the Korakuen for ninety minutes. Each time a brown-haired man passed him, he would hold his breath, only to let it out in a hiss of disappointment when they proved not to be Xander.

He wanted to believe that something had held him up. Traffic. The Council. Anything other than the thought that was plaguing him.
Had he moved on?

Finally unable to take anymore disappointment, he moved off into a crowd of people, tears running down his face.

He never saw Xander get out of the taxi.

The End

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