Pairing: S/X
Rating: PGish
Warning: Graphic depiction of trapped squirrel. Trembling vampires. And lots of poking.
Disclaimer: Spike and Xander aren't mine. The squirrel is. Would that I could reverse this state of affairs.
Dedicated to: The squirrels in my attic, [info]essene who needed something light-hearted, and those brave perverts who read my old men RPS--you'll be glad that there is nothing scary this time. Except the squirrel.



Pokes In The Night


by
Dancetomato



"Xan." Poke. Poke, poke. "Xander. Wake up."

The sleeping man in question reacted only in his subconscious. His subconscious said, "Don't move. Maybe it will go away."

Silence and lack of pokage ensued. For five whole seconds.

"Xaaandeeeerrr." Spike's whine shivered up Xander's subconscious and began to poke his un-subconscious. Spike's fingers joined in the poking.

"XANDER!" At the vampire's yell, Xander bolted upright clutching his chest.

"WHAT?!? Whatsa matter? Is it a demon? A fire? A hangnail?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "No, you git. Listen!"

Xander yawned as he listened to…nothing. "I don't hear anything."

More poking. "Ow." The brunet glared at the no-longer-evil-except-in-the-eating-the-last-Twinkie-way vampire. "Watch where you poke that thing, mister."

Xander knew something was terribly wrong when Spike made no lecherous comment. "Spike. Sweetie. What's the matter?" He wrapped his arms around his trembling lover.

"Listen." Xander listened. Hard. Finally he noticed a faint scratching sound coming from the crawl space above the closet.

Xander sagged in relief and slumped back onto his awaiting pillow. "The trap must have worked. Sounds like we caught ourselves a squirrel, Pa. And them's good eatin'." He yawned as he turned onto his side and once again sought the sweet, sweet embrace of sleep.

Poking. Again. "What?" Xander didn't move a muscle. He didn't have to. Spike was moving them with the force of his blasted poking.

"Aren't you gonna get it out?"

"No."

"But Xander, listen to it struggling up there. You can't let it suffer." Xander would have rolled his eyes at the PETA wannabe if he weren't making a concerted effort to keep them shut.

"Spike, it's a humane trap. The squirrel will be fine until the morning."

"Xan. You should go get it now." Oh, yay. The whine. He loved the whine.

Xander squeezed one eye open just enough to see the digital clock on his bedside table. "It's 4:17 a.m. I have to get up in less than two hours. I'll get it in the morning."

"But I can't sleep. It's too loud."

"Go stuff cotton in your ears."

Xander swore to himself he was going to cut Spike's fingers off at breakfast because there was yet more poking. "What?" he asked, his irritation growing by the poke.

"Why does it have to make so much sodding noise in the middle of the night?" Peevish vampires give new meaning to the words "fucking annoying."

"Because it's nocturnal. So are you. I am not. Why don't you two creatures of the night go live it up and let the poor day-addicted construction worker sleep?"

There was silence and an absence of sharp fingers in his ribs. Xander took advantage of the serenity and began drifting off.

Poke. Poke, poke. "Spike," Xander growled. He'd learned many things from the vampire-the trick to getting blood out of the carpet; the prostate gland is your friend; the art of swearing at soccer, er, football officials-but the growl was the most useful. "Stop poking me and go to sleep."

"What if it gets out?"

"It's not going to get out."

"How do you know it's not?"

"Because I'm pretty sure we've managed to trap a squirrel, not David Copperfield."

Xander knew his lover so well that he could feel Spike's puzzlement without ever having to crack open an eye. "The magician, Spike. Not the orphan."

"But Xan, it sounds pretty big. What if the trap didn't close all the way behind it? It could pry the door open and get out and then come seeking revenge on you. I'm just looking out for you. I'm not concerned, just thought you might feel better with it out of the house."

The light dawned, brighter than it would in a few short, sleep-deprived hours. Xander rolled over on his back and studied his nervous lover outlined in the dim light of the nightlight emerging from the adjoining bathroom. He grinned drowsily. "Awwww. Is the big bad vampire scared of the widdle squirrel?" He pinched Spike's cheeks. The ones on his face. Not the ones he normally pinched.

Xander knew exactly what the trapped squirrel looked like. It definitely had the look on its face that Spike had right now. Eyes wide, panting, looking desperately for a means of escape. Then Xander could see Spike don the bravado like his duster.

"Me? Afraid of a rodent? What do you take me for, a bloody ponce?"

"Yes, actually." Xander struggled not to grin at the sight of one-fourth of the Scourge of Europe quivering in fear of a fluffy-tailed, over-sized mouse.

"Oy! Who's the ponce? Whose dick was buried in whose ass before we went to sleep?" Spike bristled with indignation.

"That would be mine. In yours."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Xander reached up and ran his fingers through his mate's tangled blond curls. "Spike, come cuddle up with me, and we'll get a few more hours of sleep. In the morning I promise you I'll get rid of the mean, scary squirrel. I promise I won't let it hurt you."

Spike reluctantly let himself be tugged to a prone position and spooned by Xander. He grumbled. "Not afraid of a bloody squirrel."

"I know. You are very brave. Now go to sleep." He rubbed is face in the soft blond curls, soothing the vampire who slowly relaxed and began to fall asleep.

Poke. Poke, poke. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

"Wake up, Spike." More pokes. "Spiiiike."

The vampire demonstrated what a real growl sounds like. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep. That damned squirrel is keeping me awake." Poke. Poke, poke.

In one swift motion Spike pinned the larger man to the bed. "I'll poke you if you don't watch out."

"Say, that's a great idea." Xander arched his back as Spike moved against him. "You make so much noise I won't be able to hear the squirrel."

And with that, Spike poked him. Long and hard.




The End




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