Old Blood


13 Bleeding Out


“Spike?” The watcher’s voice was scratchy with sleep, the phone making him sound thin and thready. “Where are you?”

“It’s Xander.”

“What? What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Hospital. Come as quick as you can. I think –” He found it hard to speak. “I think Xander’s dying.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Spike hung up the phone, and lit up a fag. They wouldn’t let him smoke in the waiting room. They’d threatened to kick him out if he made a fuss. It had taken all his willpower to not vamp out and scare the piss out of the nurse who’d taken the cigarette right out of his hand, but he was afraid that they wouldn’t let him back in, and he had to be close in case Xander needed him.

She’d promised she’d come get him if there was any change, so he’d agreed to go outside for a fag, just to calm his nerves. He’d seen the phone right outside the emergency room entrance and realized what he needed to do. If anyone could help Xander, it would be the watcher or the witches, not these idiots that rushed around, talking about blood disorders and anomalies, hemorrhages and internal bleeding with no source. Spike could tell them, but they wouldn’t listen if he did. They wouldn't understand, but the watcher would. Xander may never forgive him for calling Giles, but at least he’d be alive, and that was all that mattered.

He’d just crushed out his third cigarette when the watcher pulled into the emergency parking lot. His hair was a mess and his shirt half unbuttoned, but Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Who gave a bloody fuck what he looked like? It was the carryall in one hand that was important. The watcher had come prepared.

“Where is he?”

Spike grabbed his arm and hustled him inside, “They’ve got him in surgery, but they can’t find a reason for all the blood. He won’t stop bleeding, Rupert, and they don’t know what to do.”

“I take it that’s his blood on your shirt, then?”

Spike looked down; he’d forgotten he was covered in Xander’s blood, although he didn’t know how he could have. It smelled old and rank, not even human. It was rancid; no wonder he’d been sick to his stomach since he got here. At least it explained why the other people in the OR waiting room kept staring at him.

“Right. Do you think you can do something? Without him in the same room, I mean? He’ll bleed out soon, if you don’t.”

“Willow’s on her way with Tara. We’ll wait for them to arrive. If we have something of Xander’s we might be able to slow the bleeding, although I doubt that will heal him. We need to know the spell that’s done this before we can counteract it.”

Spike nodded tersely. He’d thought as much. “Stop the bleeding, first, then I’ll tell you everything. Deal?”

“You know, this would have been much easier, if you’d only told us the first time we asked.” Spike ground his teeth. This was not the time for the watcher’s self-righteous blatherings.

“Not now, Watcher.” He pulled the watcher around, and stuck a finger into his chest, anger and fear for Xander rushing through him until there was nothing left but a white rage. “I don’t have the patience for your sanctimonious bullshit. If it weren’t Xander’s life on the line, I’d just as soon split you in half like an overripe melon. I did what I had to do, and there’s no sense in rehashing it, it’s over. So shut the hell up and take care of Xander, or chip or not, I will find a way to make you suffer. Is that clear?”

Giles was pale as a sheet. He gaped at Spike for a moment, then swallowed, blinking. “My apologies, Spike.” He glanced around the hallway at the nurses and orderlies scurrying by, a few staring boldly as they walked past. “You’re quite right, this is neither the time not the place. We need to concentrate on Xander now.”

Spike stepped back. “Right.” He looked back in the direction of the ER entrance – the sound of tires squealing to a stop outside made him shake his head. “It sounds like they let the slayer drive. I’d be surprised if there’s any tread left on those tires.”

Giles looked back at the entrance as Willow and Tara barreled through, on their way to the nurse’s station. When they saw Giles and Spike, they changed directions and came running down the hall, Willow’s arms full of books, and Tara’s with several bags.

Willow was already babbling at fifty feet away, her eyes panicked but determined. “Where is he? What’s going on? He’s okay, isn’t he? He’s going to be okay, right? Whatever it is, we can fix it. We have to fix it.”

At least Tara waited until they stopped to ask her questions. “Spike. A-a-are you okay? Is that your bl-blood?”

Spike shook his head. “Not mine, Glinda. It’s Xander’s. He’s bleeding out, and they can’t find a way to stop it.”

“What?” Red’s panicked voice got louder. “Giles. We have to help him!”

Giles shook his head. “Not here, Willow. Let’s get to the OR waiting room. We can sort this out from there.”

They left Tara in the hallway, waiting for Buffy to park the car, Giles and Willow already nose deep in dusty old books, comparing ideas on how to stop the bleeding and give them time to figure out how to reverse the spell. Buffy gave Spike the evil eye when she showed up, but Giles took her aside and gave her a nicer version of the speech Spike had used on him in the hall, and she finally calmed down.

It didn’t take long to find a spell that would at least slow down the bleeding that didn’t require them to be in the same room with Xander. The problem was they needed something of Xander’s to act as a catalyst. In the end, it was Tara that came up with a solution to their problem, and saved Spike a trip to their apartment.

“We can u-u-use Xander’s blood.”

Buffy wasn’t impressed. “What? We just waltz up to the desk, and ask them to fill up a bowl for us?”

Tara shook her head. “T-t-take off your shirt, Spike.”

Spike grinned, slipping out of his duster, and pulling the t-shirt, stiff with Xander’s dried blood, off over his head. “You’re one smart cookie, Glinda.”

She smiled at him serenely. “Thank you.”

“Yes, excellent idea, Tara.” She blushed at Giles’ praise, and Willow took her hand, smiling proudly.

The spell was completed in mere seconds, and then there was nothing left to do but wait and see if it did the trick. Spike desperately wanted to get another smoke, but he wasn’t about to leave the waiting room now, so he paced, earning scowls from the other people waiting, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t pace, he’d end up vamping out and sending them all running, and he had an idea that wouldn’t go over well. He’d have to talk to them about the spell soon, and that disturbed him. He was reluctant to recount the details, but he knew they’d want to know everything that happened. Too much of it was private, between him and Xander; it was nobody’s business but theirs.

They wouldn’t see it that way, though, and he understood the reasoning – with a spell, who knew what was important and what was merely window dressing? Only the spell caster and he’d been long gone by the time Xander and Spike had stumbled over his work. Blood and sex magic was strong stuff, and that spell had packed a hell of a punch.

It tore Spike up to think that this was the end of everything between the two of them. Once Xander was his old self again, he’d never have anything to do with Spike again. He’d never be able to forgive Spike for knowing what was going on and not telling anyone, not even Xander. It was Spike’s own fault for falling for a human. He’d never been one for playing with his food, he’d left that for the sadists. He liked a good game of seduction; there was nothing to say he couldn’t get his end off while he was feeding, but he didn’t get attached to humans, not even the Renfields he and Dru had occasionally taken on when they needed someone around to take care of dayside tasks.

The chip had changed things. Suddenly, he was stuck hanging about with humans, and he’d gone and got himself addicted to a boy a hundred years his junior, and separated by what felt like a thousand lifetimes worth of experience. And then there was The Bastard. He was cruel and vicious, hungry for life, and Spike quite worshiped him. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without him, he was so much a part of Spike’s life, now.

“The Harris family?”

They all rushed over, overwhelming the nurse, if her wide eyes were anything to go by.

“How is he?” Spike was glad Giles had asked, he couldn’t get a word out of his mouth.

She smiled at him. “He’s doing much better, Mr. Harris.”

Giles opened his mouth to protest the title, but it looked like he thought better of it. Spike agreed. If they thought Giles was Xander’s father, it might be easier to get into a room with him.

“He’s stopped bleeding, then?”

“Yes, the bleeding stopped about fifteen minutes ago.” There was a collective sigh from the group. “We’re still watching him, but he’s out of surgery. We’ll let you know when we transfer him to ICU. Hopefully we can let you in to see him for a few minutes, then.”

Spike closed his eyes, his relief overwhelming him. He didn’t realize he was swaying until he felt Buffy’s hand on his arm.

“Maybe you’d better sit down, Spike. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

He sat in the closest chair, sagging into its support. He hadn’t realized how drained he was until he’d relaxed his tightly held control and the wave of exhaustion had hit him. He looked up in surprise when a blue scrub shirt was thrust under his nose.

He laughed. The relief must be making him lightheaded. “What’s this then? Is my bare chest distracting you, Willow?”

She blushed. “Well, you just looked strange with your coat on, with nothing underneath it, like that.”

He winked at her and she giggled. He was definitely giddy.

Giles sat down on the coffee table in front of Spike. “If we’re done with the flirting, then, I think we need some answers.”

Spike sighed. It was going to be a long day.


From the emergency waiting room, to the surgery waiting room, to the intensive care waiting room – this was definitely getting old. He walked in, spotting Giles and Tara talking quietly, heads together over a large book that was probably older than Spike. Giles looked up when he approached, staring curiously at the large bundle Spike carried under one arm. They cleared a space for it on the table in front of them, and he set it down, unwrapping it quickly.

“This is it?” Willow walked up behind him, passing a soda to Tara.

Buffy examined it critically. “Doesn’t look like much.” She pointed to the rag Spike had set down beside it. “What’s that?”

He spoke bluntly, tired of all the waiting, ready to get this over with. “Blood and come.”

“Ewww.” She sat as far away from it as she could get and still be in the conversation.

“From both of you?” Giles didn’t look happy, either, but at least he didn’t make a scene.

“Yeah. Xander’s blood is on the board itself, but there’s some on the rag as well. I cleaned us both up with this, and tossed the rag on the board as I left.”

“How did yo-your blood get on the rag?”

“He bit me.” Spike grinned at the look of shock on Tara’s face, but she shouldn’t ask questions, if she didn’t want answers.

“So we can figure out how to get him unpossessed with this?”

Spike frowned at Buffy. “He’s not possessed. This thing just brought out the side of him that most people keep hidden.”

Buffy bristled at that. “Xander is not a ‘sadistic bastard’!”

“Buffy, please.” Giles tried to reason with her. “We all have the potential for evil; this spell simply released the inhibitions that usually allow Xander to keep that side of himself contained.”

“And once you get rid of the spell, he’ll go back to being our Xander again?”

“Yes.” Willow’s voice was strong. She was so certain of herself. “He’ll be ours again once we’re through.” Those words struck hard at Spike. Xander should be his, just as he was Xander’s.

“It’s not that easy, Willow. He can’t unlearn the things he’s learned about himself while he was under the spell. He won’t be exactly the same person.”

Spike knew better than to speak up, but Xander had been chaffing under their images of him forever. “He wasn’t your ‘old Xander’ before this happened. He was changing, growing up, becoming a man. He’s not going to be the boy you went to high school with ever again. You’re going to have to start treating him with more respect, if you expect him to do the same for you.”

Willow’s face was set. There was no changing her mind, he could see that. “You don’t know him, Spike. Not like we do. He’ll be our old Xander again. You’ll see.”

Spike turned his back and left them there. They didn’t need him anymore. Xander didn’t need him anymore. Xander was right, it was time to move on. He’d always wanted to go to Australia. Lots of sun, there, but he’d heard Sydney was a right treat in the nighttime.

14 Heart to Heart


“Hey Giles. You busy?” Xander glanced into the room behind Giles to where he had a book and a notepad of paper open on his table.

“Is something wrong?”

Xander shrugged. “Nah. Not really. I mean… Well, maybe.” He hesitated. He didn’t want to do this, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. He had to discuss this with someone, and Giles was his only option. “Can we talk?”

“Of course.” Giles held the door open and Xander came in, slouching down onto one of the stools by the bar.

“Thanks, G-man.”

Giles shook his head with a sigh, but didn’t even bother trying to correct him. “I was about to prepare some tea.” He looked a question at Xander, who shook his head.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine. Not much of a tea kind of guy. Spike, he was always having ‘a cuppa’,” he made air quotes around the phrase, trying his best to imitate Spike’s accent. “But I like my tea with ice and lots of sugar, and he thought that was like…sacrilege, or something.”

“Yes, well it seems that Spike and I have something in common, after all,” he said dryly.

Giles had busied himself with preparing his tea, but he took a moment to give Xander a long glance. It made him nervous enough that Xander checked his shirt front to make sure he hadn’t spilled anything on himself.

“What seems to be the problem, Xander?”

“Oh, you know. It’s just… Well. I’ve just got a lot on my mind and I can’t seem to sort it out.” He had no idea how to start this conversation, and that definitely upped the babble factor. “I was hoping that maybe you could… Well, I asked Willow, but she kinda freaked on me, and Buffy, there’s no way I’d ever ask Buffy. I mean she still hasn’t gotten over the me and Spike show, let alone the whole whips and chains thing, that would totally blow her away.”

Giles looked up at him in surprise. “Whips and chains?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He swallowed. “I went to the library, to use their computer, but it told me I wasn’t allowed to search porn sites, and that’s not what I wanted, but that’s all I could get out of it. And I don’t know who else to ask.”

“What…” That deer in the headlights panic thing was definitely not a good look on Giles. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Well, you know about me and Spike. I mean The Bastard and Spike, not me and Spike, ‘cause me and Spike, all we ever got up to was some heavy petting, hardly made it to third base, but The Bastard and Spike – well, the stuff they did was…” He shook his head, trying to clear the images out. It wasn’t working. “I don’t know how to even describe it.”

Giles was watching him attentively, and he sighed. He was going to have to come out with it if he was going to get any answers. “There were times he took the skin right off Spike’s back, Giles, and the things he said - the way he treated Spike. It just wasn’t right. Nobody should treat anyone that way. The thing he did with his fist…that was –”

“His fist?” Giles’ eyebrows were raised so high they were about to merge with his hairline.

“With Spike’s ass and the fist and Giles, it scares me, ‘cause I liked it, and that makes me a bad person, and I don’t know what to do.” He buried his face in his hands, afraid to see the disappointed look on Giles’ face.

“The Bastard liked it.”

Xander shook his head. “No, I liked it,” he told his hands. “I like it when Spike kneels at my feet – it makes me feel powerful and how can I like that, Giles, it’s wrong.”

“Xander. It’s not wrong.”

“What?” He brought his hands down, sure that he’d misheard Giles. The G-man had his glasses off, and he looked mighty embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to be backing down.

“Have you heard of Domination and submission?”

“Well, I know what those words mean, but I have a feeling that’s not what you’re talking about.”

“Well, in a way it is. I could go into detail on the etymology of the words, but I know I’d bore you to tears, and prolong this painful conversation, so I’ll hurry to the point. Most relationships, whether sexual or not have an element of inequality built into them. Parent and child, teacher and student, employer and employee, Queen and subject – someone is in charge and someone takes the orders.

“It’s a natural give and take. Some people feel more natural giving orders, and some have no problems taking them. This translates into the sexual realm in many ways, and in Domination and submission those roles become especially important. There’s nothing wrong with feeling comfortable in a more Dominant role, Xander, and there’s nothing wrong with Spike preferring to be submissive in his sexual relationships.”

“You don’t think it makes him weak?”

“Good lord, no. It takes a strong man to live as long as he has, and not only survive, but thrive. And if you ever tell him I said that, I’ll take a layer of skin off your back myself.”

Xander sat up straighter in his seat. Wow. The Ripper was coming out to play, today, wasn’t he?

“There is an even more important matter to be considered in Spike’s case, and that’s the matter of his demon. The role of a sire is very similar to that of a parent in vampire clans, and I have no reason to doubt that this carries over into their sexual relationships as well.”

“Ewwww.” Xander was having enough trouble dealing with this conversation with his father figure, he couldn’t stand the thought of adding sex to his relationship with his parents.

“I’m sure that describes most human parent’s feeling on the matter, Xander. However, without the stigma of human adult/child relationships to worry about, the childer will take the submissive role to their sire, as a matter of course. I have a feeling that is hardwired into their psyches. Only when they leave their sires and strike out on their own would they become more dominant.”

“Huh.” Xander had trouble seeing Dru as dominant over Spike, but at the same time, he knew for a fact that Spike had always gone wherever Dru wanted to go, and done what she wanted him to, as long as it didn’t hurt her.

“Spike spent the last century with his sire. True, he had to take on a caretaking role with her, due to her difficulties with reality, and the strength of her visions, but I doubt very much that he was ever truly dominant with her, despite his responsibilities. Besides, humans who struggle with tremendous responsibility on a daily basis often seek to lay that burden aside when they are allowed to relax.”

“So you’re saying that Spike may want someone to take the dominant role with him, to give him an escape from his responsibilities?”


There was a flaw in that thinking, though. “But he’s not taking care of Dru anymore.”

“He did for over a century, Xander. Is it so much to expect that he might want someone else to make the decisions for a while?”

That was a big chunk of the scary part for Xander. “But I’m not all decision boy. I mean, I can’t tell Spike what to do.”

Giles shook his head. “Not all the time, no. You’re not a demon, you don’t want to rule his life. You just want a chance to take charge for a while. And be the one looked up to, and respected, despite how you’re treated outside the bedroom.”

“Oh, great.” Now they were getting to the heart of it. This was sounding very familiar. “So I’m the failure that needs to pretend to be in charge, ‘cause I can’t handle it in the real world?”

“That’s not what I mean at all, Xander. You have responsibility at your job. They’re still considering you for a foreman’s position, despite your failure to come to work for over a month. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“Well, yeah, but I had you to call in while I was AWOL and tell them I had a family emergency in Poland. Thanks for that, by the way. They’re still telling Pollock jokes at the site.” He sighed. It made sense to him in a weird kind of way. The loser needing the chance to be important because no one else thought of him that way.

“But I am the one who needs to be in charge, Giles. I crave it.”

“I know. I understand.” Giles must have seen the doubt in his look. “I do understand. It’s quite natural. And if it comes naturally to you to be in charge, then you shouldn’t try to fight it.”

A sudden suspicion smacked Xander in the head. Surely not. “You sound very well versed on all this, G-man.”

The flush on Giles’ cheeks was a dead giveaway. “Yes, well, let’s just say that it took me some time to understand my own urges. In that regard, I’m much more like you than you might imagine.”

The image in Xander’s head hurt his brain. “You mean you and Ms Calendar…?”

“Good lord, no!” Xander breathed a sigh of relief. Giles fidgeted with his cup. “But in my youth, I may have given in to some of my - wilder appetites. I had a strong and quite passionate relationship with a young man who was very much the submissive in bed.”

Okay, that was unexpected. “Giles, you old devil you!”

Giles pulled his dignity together, and ignored Xander’s outburst. “So you see, Xander, it’s not that unusual. If you decide to pursue this relationship with Spike, which I refuse to encourage on principle, I would suggest the two of you talk about how you wish to proceed, and come to an agreement on what is acceptable and what is not before you do anything else. I might be able to find some information for you on the subject, but I have a feeling that if you follow your instincts, you can’t go wrong.”

Xander felt himself deflating when he realized why that was never going to happen. “Spike’s leaving, Giles.”

“He is?” Obviously the G-man wasn’t in the loop either.

“He told Willow and Tara last week. Besides, he doesn’t want me. Buffy says he didn’t even stick around to make sure the spell worked before he was out the door. He left me. Now that the spell is broken, he won’t want me anymore.”

“Xander. As much as I hate to say this, I think you are wrong. Just as the spell could not force you into something you did not have in you already, I think Spike’s feelings for you were real, or he would not have been attracted to you in the first place. You should talk to him, Xander. And if he has plans to leave, you should do it immediately.”

Xander sat there, pole axed, staring into space. His world was rearranging itself around him, and it was a lot brighter than it was a few minutes ago.

“And don’t tell anyone I said that, or I shall call you a liar to your face.”

Xander blinked back into focus, grinning hugely. “Thanks, G-man!”

“You’re perfectly welcome.” Giles glanced down at his cold cup of tea. “Now, go away. I need scotch, and I need to repress this entire conversation immediately.”

Xander clapped Giles on the shoulder, and left Giles to his scotch.

15 Bastard with a Small B

Spike set his bag by the door. Not much to show for all his time in Sunnyhell. But then, there wasn’t really that much he wanted to remember either. He thought of the boxes Clem was storing for Xander – things from their weeks in Clem’s mate’s flat. He’d told Clem to wait a while before he tried to talk to Xander. Spike had a feeling Xander would still get on well with Clem. They’d be over at Xander’s flat munching on crisps and playing video games in no time, but he thought it best to give him a month or two to let the memories fade. He’d forget Spike. Spike wished he could say the same about Xander.

He heard the heartbeat coming a mile away, and the scuffling outside the door set his teeth on edge. When Xander didn’t seem to be willing to come in the door, Spike finally opened it. Might as well get this over with, he had places to be. No matter how he’d steeled himself, the first sight of Xander made his heart ache. He refused to give that up to Xander.

“What are you doing here?” There, that was sufficiently harsh.

Xander looked like a fish out of water, his mouth working with nothing coming out. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

Charming conversationalist, as usual. “No clue. Go away now; I’m getting ready to lock up.” He gave Xander a push, trying to get him to take the hint and step back. It didn’t work. Instead he shoved forward, and Spike fell back to avoid setting off the chip.

“Are you taking a trip?”

He sounded nervous, although Spike had no idea what he had to be nervous about. Spike was the one out of place here. He was taking care of that right now, if Xander would let him. He closed the door behind Xander, no sense in letting everyone know their business.

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Spike felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle. He could have sworn that The Bastard was in the room. “What?”

“I mean it.” Xander prowled in his direction. “We had this conversation already. You go where I go. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Spike was starting to catch on now. Xander was playing him, trying to get him back for his using Xander while they were under the spell. “You’re barkers. You don’t want me around, and you know it.”

“I do.”

He could tell the difference now. There was a hesitation in his delivery; he wasn’t quite as masterful as he was trying to act. Well, fuck him. He wasn’t going to be taken for a fool. Not again.

“The Bastard wanted me around.” He walked right up to Xander, looking him up and down dismissively. “You’re not him.”

“Yes, I am.” He sounded like a boy playing a part. “Spike.” Xander put his hand out, coming close, but not quite touching Spike’s arm before turning and pacing away. “He’s not all I am, but I am him. I’m both The Bastard and The Boy. That’s what you told me, and that’s what I have to figure out.”

“Figure out?” He was sounding more like himself now - the Bumbling Boy who cared too much.

“I need to learn how to balance the two, so I can be them both, and not be torn apart like I was during the spell. That’s what I was hoping you could help me with.”

“Me?” Spike was confused, now. He didn’t understand what he was trying to pull. “How the bloody hell could I do that?”

“You’re a lot wiser than me.” Spike raised one eyebrow, and Xander grinned and shrugged. “Sometimes. You have a lot more experience with the world. There aren’t many people I can trust with both parts of me, Spike, but I trust you.”

There it was again. Trust. How could Xander trust him? “You do?”

“I do.”

Spike shook his head. Xander must be crazy.

“I’m not sure how to go about this, because I’ve only ever been The Bastard when I was under a spell, but Giles said I should follow my instincts, and my instincts say that you and me? We belong together.”

“Giles said that, did he?” Now he knew something was wrong.

He grinned. “Yeah, but if you tell him I said so, he’ll set the Ripper loose on me, so that has to stay between you and me, all right?”

Xander’s grin died, and he walked up to Spike, this time he put his hand on Spike’s arm, and Spike closed his eyes and felt the heat soak into his skin.

“I want you Spike.”

Spike’s eyes popped open. He wanted to believe what Xander was saying, but he found it difficult. He pulled away from Xander, it was too hard to think when he was that close. “You sure about that? You need to think about what you’re saying, here. I’m a demon. We do these things differently, you know.”

“I know. I’ll have to deal with that. And you’ll have to deal with the fact that I’m human. Because without the spell, I can’t be The Bastard all the time.”

“You weren’t the bastard all the time even with the spell.”

Xander nodded. “I was trying to be. I think if it had gone on much longer, I would have been.”

Spike had had a lot of time to think about that since the night Xander had almost died. “I think you’re right.”

“I don’t want to be just The Bastard.”

Spike sighed, admitting the truth. “That’s not what I want either.”

“Then you do want me?” Xander perked up at that.

“I guess so.” He wasn’t going to go down easy.

“Oh, none of that shit.” Xander’s eyes were hard, and Spike jerked back as if stung. “You’re either on board with this, or I’ll walk out that door right now. Do you want me, or not?”

Spike let loose a bark of laughter. “I guess the bastard is still in there, somewhere, huh?”

“Shut up and get down on your knees.”

Spike fell to his knees before he’d even registered the change in Xander’s voice. “Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.” His cock was rigid in an instant, and he felt his pain and his worries melt away at the same time.

“Suck my cock.”

He crawled over to Xander on his hands and knees, and ran his face up the inseam of his pants until he was face to face with the object of his desires. He had no idea when Xander had unzipped and pulled himself out, but it was clear that Spike wasn’t the only one who could get hard at the drop of a hat. He set himself to worshiping Xander’s cock, licking and sucking and nipping at his balls, knowing that Xander liked that kind of tease.

Spike swallowed him down, working the muscles of his throat around the head until Xander grabbed his hair and fucked his face roughly, just the way they both liked it. Spike was disappointed when Xander pulled him off, and he tried to keep contact with his thick cock, sticking his tongue out and curling it around the head, but Xander grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him back so far his neck was arched out like a sacrificial offering. He bent over and scraped his teeth across Spike’s jugular, and Spike moaned loudly.


Xander laughed and pulled Spike to his feet, practically throwing him at the wall. “Strip. Face the wall. Hands above your head.”

Hurrying to comply, Spike tried to come up with a way to let Xander know there was lube in the bag at his feet without getting himself into trouble. He usually wouldn’t mind a bit of punishment, but knowing Xander like he did, he’d probably insist Spike not come, and it had been most of a month since he’d got his end away. There was no way in hell he was letting the bastard do that to him.

He froze for a second. The bastard? He heard Xander dropping his pants behind him, and hurried to finish undressing. The bastard. Maybe that was the difference. Xander could be the bastard, without being The Bastard. Maybe that was all it took. Probably not. It couldn’t be that simple. But maybe it was a place to start. He’d mention it to Xander when he wasn’t about to get royally fucked.

As he turned to face the wall, he saw the gleam of slick on Xander’s cock. Spike grinned. He should have known he’d be well prepared. He leaned against the wall, his hands over his head, his legs spread wide and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. He needed this. He thought maybe they both did: a reaffirmation of the bond between them. It was fitting. Then he felt the chill of Xander’s slick fingers spreading him wide, and he stopped thinking altogether.

Xander pressed close, his cock sliding between Spike’s cheeks. He didn’t try to prepare Spike, just pressed on in, making Spike groan, the burn of his body stretching to accept that fat cock turning to fire under his skin, searing him from the inside out. Xander set up a quick pace, pounding into Spike, practically knocking him off his feet with every thrust. He raised one hand and locked his fingers with Spike’s and Spike twisted his head around awkwardly so they could kiss.

He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t take long before Xander’s steady driving thrusts became ragged, and lost their regularity; he couldn’t keep up that kind of intensity for long, the human body wasn’t built like that. It wasn’t a problem for Spike anyway, as he’d been fighting back his orgasm since the moment Xander had first slid into him. He pushed back against Xander, urging him on, and when he could tell he was almost ready to come, he offered his neck to Xander. Xander bit, his teeth tearing through the flesh and sending Spike soaring into his orgasm, despite his efforts to hold it back.

They slid down the wall into a well-used heap, gasping and leaning on each other heavily. Xander reached out, flailing wildly until he snagged his pants, pulling them close enough that he could rummage through his pockets. He pulled out the pocket knife he’d started carrying around with him during the spell, and while Spike watched, shallowly sliced open his forearm, offering it to Spike. Spike pulled the arm to him, not wanting to waste a drop, and realized that this was the first time he’d ever really tasted Xander’s blood. There had always been a taint to it before, a faint hint of old, bitter power that was missing now, leaving behind a pure, fresh flavor that was powerful in its own way, and freely given, and it made Spike proud that Xander thought he was worthy to taste it.

When the blood stopped flowing, Spike lifted his head, and pulled Xander to him, sharing his blood between them, and tasting his own on Xander’s tongue. This time, it was just them. The way it should be.

Spike struggled to his feet, grabbing his kit, and throwing Xander’s at him.

“Going somewhere, are you?”

Spike raised one eyebrow. “We are.”

Xander looked surprised. “We are?”

“We’ve still got time to make it to Clem’s place and pick up your gear before he heads out for the night.”

Xander grinned. “Clem!”

“Yeah, he’ll be glad to see you too. He’s been asking about you for weeks. C’mon, get your kit on, Butch. We’ve got places to go.”

Xander popped up with much more enthusiasm than he’d evidenced two minutes ago. It looked like the boy was back. No, this wasn’t the boy. This Xander was more than the boy, and more than the bastard. This Xander was well on his way to being more than either of them could ever have been alone. But then he wasn’t alone anymore, was he? Neither was Spike, and that was just fine with him.

The End