Spike’s here. Even more dead than he was before, somehow, but he’s here. The cat came back. You’d think that voluntary magical incineration would be pretty final. Spike’s worse than a cat. He couldn’t stay away…
But he hasn’t seen him.
Has Spike been avoiding him? Xander feels a momentary surge of indignation before his brain points out that first, having a terminally annoying vampire leave you alone is not a bad thing, and second? Apparently, these days, not seeing Spike does not equal absence of Spike.
He shudders and downs half the bottle in one go.
Spike’s been watching him. He’s absolutely sure of that.
He’s fuzzier on the why.
Lurking in the office is one thing. Watch Harris screw up another job, very funny, great. He could see Spike getting off on that.
Haunting his bedroom, though? Watching Xander eat, fold clothes, jerk off?
He’d never have imagined Spike getting off on that.
Only now he is. It’s a disturbingly hot image.
Spike’s been watching him, and apparently, Xander likes being watched.