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A series of snapshots |
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Crossing the Streams
by
C. Woodhaven
Light of Morning
For ![[info]](/userinfogif.gif){kind=small}
angstpuppy
The crypt was always bone-chillingly cold in the morning. And gloomy.
Xander had an apartment, with a bed, but still he came here because if his night-life and his day-life came together it would be bad. Egon crossing-the-streams bad.
Instead, he woke extra-early: tired, sore and cold in order to return to his real life. Thoughts of thawing out in the shower were forefront as he dressed.
He stood at the base of the rickety ladder, mentally promising to replace it yet again.
"Have a good day, luv." Xander heard the mixture of snark and resignation in Spike's voice.
"I...yeah."
Dark of Night
For kendermouse
Leading a double life looked cool on TV: not so much in real life. Xander was exhausted. Work, patrol, inventing excuses to see Spike, endless hours of sex followed by almost zero sleep. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.
Back again tonight, pressed to the rickety ladder, making out with a vampire he swore he couldn't stand. Except...that was a lie.
“This has to stop.” Xander whispered, pulling away.
"Just got here, luv. Don't end the party so soon." Spike leaned in for another kiss.
"No, really, I can't.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed, before he stepped away. "Fine! Toddle off."
"Spike...I."
Spike turned away. "Go!"
Crossing the Streams
For fanbot
Xander carefully climbed the ladder, probably for the last time. He and Spike said some pretty hurtful things, all of them both true and not.
He stood in the upper crypt, uncertain. Finally, he dropped Anya’s discarded keys down the rabbit hole and walked out the door, mumbling..."Hope that counts as an invitation."
Hours later, nearly daylight, he heard the key scrape in the lock. Minutes later, a cold vampire slid under the covers. Cool hands, began stroking his belly and heat bloomed lower.
The alarm buzzed loudly before Xander silenced it.
"Call in sick, pet."
"Yeah...I think I will."
The End
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