“So, why do I do it? Why him? Why a he?”
“I don’t know. You have spent a lot of time with him lately, patrolling and helping with Dawn, maybe it just kind of…,” Willow says, trailing off.
“No, that’s not it,” Xander says, shaking his head furiously. It had started before this, before Buffy’s death, when Spike had first joined them, begging for help. He had been chipped, almost harmless and down on his luck. At first, Xander had his normal reaction to the vampire. Bad, go away, do not want any…but it had morphed, changed into something. Xander had not known it at the time, but he would catch himself watching the vampire, watching Spike. Movements, speech patterns, it was all absorbed. Thinking back, all of his barbs, rude comments, and plain nasty behavior had been a cover up for what he had really felt, what he had really wanted. And that was Spike.
“God, Willow! What am I going to do?” Xander asks, leaning his head once more on his arms. He is trying to hide a tear that has worked its way out, falling onto his lashes before being absorbed by the material of his shirt.
“How does Spike feel about all of this?” Willow asks softly, trying her hardest to console her friend. When she had first learned about Spike and Xander’s…relationship through Dawn, she had been disbelieving. However, she had watched them closely, noting the way they acted around each other. It had taken her some getting used to, but she could tell that they were doing something to help each other, whether they realized it or not.
“Haven’t asked, didn’t want to know, never talked about it,” Xander says, his head still buried in his arms. He looks up when he feels Willow lightly smack him on the back of the head. “What was that for?”
“You know very well what that was for, Alexander LaVelle Harris. How could you not ask Spike? Or talk to him for that matter, but you can sleep with him?”
“It, uh, never came up?”