Stuck On Repeat


1 Dawn's Wish

We're all in the Magic Box, and I'm pretending to read something Latin-y about a demon or an apocalypse or something. I'm not entirely sure what it was, because Spike had his hand on my crotch when Giles was explaining it. Damn vamp can look as innocent as Dawnie sometimes. Which is worrying, cause Dawn only looks innocent when she's done something wrong.

Anyway, Spike's got his hand on my crotch, and he's squeezing my dick. If we were alone he'd have me stripped naked and bent over the back of the couch already. Which is what we were doing when the phone rang, ironically. And it means I have to buy a new phone tomorrow. Here's a lesson for you- don't interrupt a horny demon. Ever. That's the third phone he's destroyed so far.

Anyway, Spike's being distracting, and the others are already giving me strange looks. Probably cause I'm squirming so much, but Spike's being deliberately annoying, not giving me the friction I need.

I'm thinking of giving up and going home soon anyway. It's Halloween today, and Spike seems to think it's his god-given day off. Although I suppose that's fair, seeing as how we made him patrol on Christmas while the rest of us settled down to a home cooked meal and an evening of cheesy holiday movies.

That was before me and Spike started this... whatever it is we have. Its more than sex, but neither of us would dare call it a relationship. Maybe we're fuck-buddies? Anyway, it doesn't matter what label you put on it, me and Spike are doing the horizontal mambo and I'm hiding it from my friends. As far as I know, Spike's hiding it from his friends too.

I'm willing my boner away when Dawn bursts in and announces she loves Halloween so much, and its her most favouritest ever holiday and she's bouncing around like she's been mainlining caffeine for the past 36 hours.

And that's when she says it.

“I wish it could be Halloween all month!”

2 Zombies In A Crypt

The Nibblet made a wish yesterday. Someone should ban that word from existing, 'cause I know it would be safer in the long run. Whoever said that the pen is mightier than the sword may have been bloody well right- a lot of the problems the Scoobies have to deal with are caused by words.

Just last week, Red nearly turned a whole block of flats into Jello instead of calling out the spook they were trying to catch. Something about the pronunciation being off or something. That's what you get for messing with magicks in languages you can't speak. No one's really angry with Dawn, or doing anything to fix it. They're just waiting to see what happens. Which is all they can do. It's not like there's a manual for these sorts of things.

Anyway, it's supposed to be November 1st, but thanks to Dawn, it's October 31st. Again. Weather's changed though. Yesterday was sunny. I could almost taste the sunshine on his skin when we kissed. Not today though. It's pissing it down right now. I'm on my way back to my crypt and the water is half way to my ankles. Wouldn't surprise me if I ended up being dragged down into a rainy maelstrom in the middle of this godforsaken cemetery.

I wouldn't be coming back at all tonight if it wasn't for Xander's friends. They came over unannounced like his apartment was theirs too and interrupted our date night. Well, I say date night, but it's more like our night dedicated to non-stop shagging. Just as fun, and means we don't waste our cash on cinema popcorn and tickets to a movie we don't really want to see.

But they plonked their arses down on his couch and settled down. I was going to say something, but Harris gave me that pleading puppy-dog expression he knows I can never say no to. So I'm heading back to spend my night alone.

The water's rising pretty quick and I'm soaked through. I'll admit I'm not in the best of moods. I don't like giving up a nice, comfortable shag in a nice, comfortable bed for a stroll through a grave yard.

But I think my night is about to get worse. The door to my crypt is open and there's a stench coming from inside that I can only describe as Eau de Rotting Corpse. Not pleasant. I take a peek round the door and start counting.

There's six zombies in my crypt. One of them is drinking my beer. Now I'm pissed. The only person I share beer with is Xander. I grab a shovel thoughtfully, if unknowingly, left propped against the crypt wall by the grounds keeper, and let out a battle cry. These wankers are going to pay for drinking my alcohol.

3 Screaming Like A Banshee

November 2nd (a.k.a. October 31st again)

Spike turned up at my apartment at, like, 3am. I had only just managed to get rid of the girls, who had ever-so thoughtfully invited themselves over for a Halloween themed movie night. I had to be up for work at six, so you can imagine my reaction when Spike starts pounding on my door, demanding that I let him in.

When I do, I regret it. He's covered in bruises, and blood that I'm sure isn't all his, and he stinks to high heaven. He's practically vibrating with energy. I don't say anything; I just push him not so subtly into the bathroom and when he doesn't get into the shower straight away, shove him, fully dressed, under the spray of water. Yes, its ice cold, and yes, he screams like a banshee, probably waking up all my neighbours and most of Sunnydale, but its a satisfying sound to my sleep deprived ears.

I go back to the bedroom and am almost asleep when a cold, wet t-shirt slaps me in the face. Now I'm really pissed. Spike just stands there with that smirk of his, and I just lose it.

He's on the bed, pinned under me, before he can say a word. I'm not bothering with the niceties right now. I'm tired, and pissed off and yes, horny as hell just from looking at Spike.

He whimpers when I bite his lip. When I coat my dick in lube and line it up at his hole, he shudders and flexes his hips, urging me on.

Sleep can wait. Making Spike scream like a banshee again is much more fun.

Besides, its in the Halloween spirit, right?

4 There's A Spider in the Bath

Xander replaced his phone already. I can tell because its ringing now. I'm half tempted to not let him out of bed to answer, but that means the ringing won't stop. I've been stuck in his apartment all day before, and the damn Scooby gang just kept phoning. It's like they can't work out that if Xander's not answering, he's not bloody well at home! Plus, they know he has that construction job. They don't care, but they do know.

They don't seem to care about much lately. Y'know, they didn't even give Dawn the obligatory 'don't use the 'w' word' speech. Although it's not like I mind this constant Halloween thing. With the exception of half a dozen zombies, everything is treating it like it really is Halloween. I think it might just be us that know. Even the newspapers have October 31st on the cover.

Its been good for the slayer. Which in turn has been good for me. And Xander. With all the nasties taking the month off, she's managed to get some rest, meaning she's not tense and threatening me. Xander gets the benefits of me being not staked. Which brings us back to now.

I'm balls deep in him and the bloody phone is ringing. He gives me an apologetic look, but its not gunna work this time. Just once it'd be nice if he chose me over them. Oh, I'm not looking to get him shouting it from the rooftops, but just once telling them he can't make a research session so we can spend some more time together.

Xander's answering the phone while I get dressed. Even if I'm not needed to kill things, I'll just make my excuses and leave. I find it hard to get back into rhythm- or up at all actually- after being interrupted. And we don't have the kind of arrangement where we stick around cuddling, unless it leads to more shagging. It's more of a brief struggle to find out who's going to top (I put up a token protest on my part- I don't mind a good coring sometimes), then a good hard shag on or against whichever flat surface happens to be closest.

I catch the tail end of the conversation while I'm looking for a clean shirt. I'm borrowing one of Xander's less... flamboyant ones, for lack of a better word. Apparently this was a genuine emergency call. There's a demon over at Red's place that needs taking care of. Doesn't mean I'm any happier about any of it though.

I'm rummaging through the weapons box that lives under Harris' bed, looking for something pointy enough to kill demons with that won't draw attention to ourselves. The Sunnyhell police force may be dense when it comes to things that go bump in the night, but they aren't too keen on letting people walk the streets at night carrying axes and swords. Xander comes in and starts dressing behind me. I can't turn around, cause if I do, I'll be hard again and we wouldn't be going to kill things.

Bloody hell. When did I turn into one of the good guys? When have I ever chosen doing the right thing over a bloody amazing shag? I think my membership with Evil Is Us has been fully revoked by now. Makes me kind of sad...

We walk in silence. We would have driven, but Harris' car got towed the other week. Y'know what I said about Sunnydale's finest? Yeah, they don't accept 'saving the world from demons' as a valid excuse for double parking, and they don't accept being saved from a vamp attack as valid payment to get said double parked car back. Tossers, the lot of them.

Harris knocks on the door and the second it opens, Red pushes a glass and a piece of paper into his hands and shoves him in the direction on the bathroom. I follow, confused, and when Red points out the demon she phoned about? I laugh.

Its about an inch long, has eight legs and is often sung about climbing up water spouts. But it means Xan gets to pretend to be macho, rescuing the damsel in distress. He's caught the evil fiend under the glass and trapped it with the paper. He does this cute confused face thing when he's looking between the window and the toilet, wondering whether to release it and let it terrorise some other poor human, or flush it down the bog to make sure it never returns. Not that I think Harris is cute. Maybe something more manly, like, erm... well, cute will have to do.

He lets it out the window. He's a real hero, a champion for spiders and humans everywhere. Sickening, isn't it?

5 Wonder Woman vs Batman

We're going trick or treating today! The last time I went was when Snyder made us chaperone those kids and we all got turned into our costumes. So not a great experience. But this should be better.

Spike wasn't going to go, but he can be such a push over. There's a trick to it. See, what you have to do it talk to him about it when he can't focus on what you're saying. He'll agree to pretty much anything when we're having sex.

Which is why he isn't speaking to me right now. According to him, promises made under the influence of orgasm don't count.

I'm just trying on my Batman outfit. Its partially a safety net in case we get turned into our costumes again, and partly 'cause Batman was a cool superhero. Spike's getting changed into his right now. Or, at least I hope he is. There's a slight possibility he's managed to climb out of the tiny bathroom window and is running for the hills.

I actually bought a whole bunch of costumes. I have no idea which one he's chosen, but there's a lot of choice. I expect he'll go with something traditional, like, erm... a vampire. On second thoughts I can't see Spike in a cape and plastic fangs. Maybe he'll go with Willow's favourite option- a ghosty sheet type thing with 'Boo!' on the fr...

Sweet mother of Jesus...

“You like it?” he asks. Like I have the ability to answer when I'm face to face with... that. Wonder Woman. I bought that costume as a joke. But now I can see it on him... wow. His cock stretches the spandex in a way that should be obscene but really isn't. I make a wordless sound and he turns around, giving me a lovely view of his tight little ass.

All the blood in my body rushes instantly to my dick. Hey, you'd have the same reaction if you were as close as I am to Spike's spankable bottom, especially when it fills out the material so well. I'm aching to stroke it, to run my thumb over the smooth fabric and feel him shiver.

I say something that might be a question.

Hmm? This? Oh. Thought you might like it, is all.” He pouts. Cave!Xander takes over and I'm actually carrying him to the bed. We won't be going out tonight. That might have been what he intended, and kudos to him if it was, because its working. He won't be leaving this bed for a while.

The costumes can stay on for now though...

6 The Scariest Thing on Earth

Red, the Nibblet and the Slayer weren't happy with us. So what if me and Xan missed their stupid candy gathering mission? It's not even the real Halloween any more. Besides, what we were doing was much more fun. I was gunna point this out to them when Xander stepped on my foot. It didn't hurt, but I can take a hint. Probably for the best- I have a feeling that 'sorry we didn't meet you, we were shagging like bunnies' won't go down too well with them.

I'm tired of hiding it. I don't like being someone's dirty little secret. No matter how good the shagging is, I'm always left feeling unsatisfied when I know the person I'm with is ashamed of being with me. Ego destroying is what it is.

Harris is doing the apologies. Making up some lie about eating the left over pizza in the back of the fridge even though it was green and fuzzy and ending up ill. I know its not true, because a, I was there, and b, I threw that pizza out two days ago. But he would have eaten it if it hadn't wound up in a trash bag. Honestly, this bloke has no sense of self-preservation.

The girls are looking less pissed off so I think its fairly safe to tune back into the conversation now.

And you'll carry all our bags for us and pay for lunch?” Red's asking Harris.

Yeah, we totally will,” he says back, looking at me for support. Oh hell no. Not in a million years. This is all his doing, so he can take the punishment.

I give him an evil grin, reserved especially for when I'm being my most evil. “You might, but I won't be going. Daylight, remember?”

Xander turns as white as a sheet when he realises he's just agreed to take the girls shopping all on his own.`

7 I Want Your Soul. And I'll Take Some Candy Too.

I had a horrible day. Worse than the day our nightmares came true and I ended up in class in my underwear. I took the girls out shopping to make up for missing trick or treating. And me and Spike are meant to be meeting them for a Halloween party tomorrow night.

Spike's been better about this than I expected. Yes, there was some gloating that he got to stay behind and away from the sun while I had to traipse round shops acting as a pack mule, but that only lasted a little while. He made me a mug of hot chocolate and sat me down on the couch. I fell asleep. When I woke up, he gave me a foot rub. I think we found a new kink to explore, because he was enjoying it as much as I was- the bulge in the front of his jeans never lies.

He's sulking right now. We had our first sort of fight. Not a real one, because to have real relationship fights, you have to be in a relationship, and we're not. We're just... I don't know how to define it still. But the point is, he's sulking cause we got interrupted again.

Some kid out trick or treating knocked on the door. I think it was Mrs Korey's grandson, or he wouldn't have been able to get into the apartment building. But yeah, one thing had lead to another, and I was sucking Spike off when the kid knocked on the door. Spike begged me not to stop, but I was sure it was something important- no-one knocks on my door unless its important.

The kid was really sweet. He was wearing a little grim reaper costume and y'know what he says? He looks up at me and says “I want your soul. And I'll take some candy too!”. If Willow was here, she would have given him all the candy in the building, but he had to settle for a handful of stuff Buffy left after our movie night. The kid smiled and ran off to knock on the next door and I went back to Spike.

Turned out that was probably a bad move.

In the two minutes I was gone, Spike had, um, finished, cleaned up and pulled his pants up. He gave me this look that told me just how pissed off he was and accused me of never putting his needs first. That's a total lie! I had to do shopping to make up for putting his needs- well, mine too- before other's.

He looks cute when he's pouting. It makes me want to bite that pouty lower lip and kiss him until he's breathless... or breathing, whichever a vampire does when he's been kissed senseless. Maybe I should make it up to him right now...

8 Haunted

Willow's POV:

I think Xander's apartment is haunted. I called round yesterday with a pizza and a movie- one with lots of lesbian action to keep both me and him happy, and when I got to the door, I could hear moaning, and I think there were chains rattling too. I was going to knock, but then I thought, if there is a ghost, it needs to be exorcised. So I went to get Giles. He went to Xander's alone and came back with a strange look on his face, like he'd seen a ghost mumbling something about 'just a figment of my imagination'. Xander came into the shop about ten minutes later and went bright red when he looked at Giles.

Maybe Xander was embarrassed about having to be rescued from a nasty old ghost by Giles. But that doesn't explain the way Spike leered at them both when he joined us a few minutes later...

9 Scared of Your Shadow

It's been so quiet recently. We're all waiting for the other shoe to drop. All the vampires and demons, apart form Spike, have spent the last week and a half off. All real evilness had been suspended in favour of being mildly naughty.

Speaking of which, I'll never be able to look Giles in the eye again. He barged into my apartment last night, shouting about saving me from a ghost and got exposed to the image of me and Spike in bed together. Spike was chained to the bed, gagged and blindfolded, bent in half beneath me and I was pounding into his tight body.

Spike would have killed me if I had stopped, and I don’t think I could have anyway, even if Angel walked in and announced he was gunna join in the fun. Actually, I think I would have stopped for that. Stopped and ran to the nearest safe place. Spike's a big boy, he can take care of himself.

Anyway, I'm pounding into Spike's ass like there's no tomorrow and Giles is staring at us, and I know Spike knows because he's trying not to laugh. And then Spike cums. Not just a regular orgasm either. His cock sprays cum over his chest and it splashes on me and I'm shouting his name and shooting my load in his body.

Giles saw maybe twenty seconds of what happened, thirty seconds at the most, and I'm never gunna be able to look at him again. Spike thinks its hilarious. When we got back to my apartment after the most embarrassing Scooby meeting ever he was all over me, kissing me, touching every part of me he could reach, and then he asked for a goddamn threesome with Giles!

So I freaked out and kicked Spike out. Which is why I'm wondering round the cemetery right now. I know he was just joking (or at least I hope he was if he ever wants sex with me again). But I'm so used to getting jumped by vamps and other assorted demon types that I'm all on edge. A voice in the back of my mind that sounds a lot like Spike tells me I'm jumping at my bloody shadow. And no, I don't want to think about why my inner voice sounds just like Spike.

Spike better appreciate the effort I’m going to to fix this.

10 Party Time

Dawn decided to throw a party. Slayer's house was taken over by teenage teenyboppers for the night. Me and Xan were recruited for setting up and decorating and the like. Yeah, me and the Whelp are back on speaking terms. Found him wondering round the cemetery last night. Was funny as fuck- he was really jumpy so I thought it would be a laugh to scare him some more. He shrieked like a girl and nearly wet himself. I made it up to him though. Never gunna be able to sit anywhere in my crypt again without remembering what we did. Great fun, it was.

Anyway, we turned up at sunset and started hanging paper spiders and ghosties and such from the ceiling. Then things went bad. Dawn mentioned something about me and Xander always turning up places at the same time, and Rupert and Xan both went bright red. None of us knew what to say. Dawn just kept on chatting away about the boy she likes, not even waiting for an answer.

We all managed to ignore the question until later, when the Slayer, who should never be allowed to drink, wobbled over to us and gave us both a hug. And she asked us why we smelt the same. I've been pretty much living at Harris' place, so I've been showering there too, and using his shower gel. But no-one's meant to know I'm staying there at all.

For maybe a second, I thought Xan was going to come clean, tell his mates about us. But he just babbled something about it being a coincidence, and all but ran away. It fucking hurt. Not that I want him to be all hearts and flowers about this thing we have, but lately I've got tired of him hiding it.

So I go after him, found him hiding out in the garden. And I ask him if he's going to tell them. He said no. I accused him of being ashamed of being with me. I shouldn't have said that. If I hadn't, he wouldn't have said that he didn't want anyone knowing he's sticking it in a dead body.

So I left. I spent a couple of hours actually crying on Clem's shoulder. If I had any Big Bad credibility, it's now officially gone. Clem was good about it though. I showed up around 10pm, and he let me stay until next sunset. It's about midday now. I should be asleep, but when I close my eyes, all I can see is Xander's face, the way he looked when he said those things.

Me and Clem, we've been friends for a while. Started as just playing poker, but we have stuff in common- he's a peaceful demon and I'm forced into peace by the chip, we both like watching films and drinking beer, and we share a love of snack food. But now, if I was Dawn, I would say that Clem got elevated to the 'best friend' space in my unlife.

The bloke just sat there and listened. And I didn't hold back. I told him the whole sordid tale, even the bits that make even me want to cringe. He looked a little surprised when I told him I had been shagging a bloke, but Clem's so accepting- he shrugged and offered me another beer.

I wonder if Xander's feeling as shite as I am. Or if he tried to find me at the crypt. Probably not. I think he's made up his mind.

I blame Dawn for all of this. If she hadn't made that stupid wish, none of this would have happened. We would have just kept going as we had been, fighting demons and shagging like crazed animals after. With no demons to fight, we have all this time for parties and movie nights and its just been too much. Never thought that a lack of evil would break up another one of my relationships. Although on second thoughts, that seems about right. Just look at the evidence- Dru left me after that truce with the Slayer, Harmony left me when I got the chip (no real loss there though), and now Xander leaves because there aren't demons around to hold the edges of our relationship together.

It's all so fucked up. That's life I guess. Or unlife. Clem says I should wait for Xan to come back, that he was just reacting to stress and fear. I'm not so sure. I'll be leaving Clem's at sunset and then we'll just see what happens.

I hope Xan comes back to me. I think I've fallen for him. Like I said, it's all so fucked up.

11 Mystical Holiday Convergence

I'm an idiot. I am worthy of all the things my dad and my teachers ever called me. I haven't seen Spike since the party. That was two days ago. His crypt was empty, save for a few empty beer bottles and a lonely looking rat. Since we started this thing, he's not been staying there much. I used to think he did a good job of making the crypt a home, not that I'd ever say that to his face, but now I look at it, it seems so cold and uninviting.

We should have talked. All we seemed to do was have sex, but we avoided the important stuff. Stuff like 'hey, Xander/Harris/Whelp, lets come out of the closet and make this into a real relationship', or 'Spike/Fangless/Deadboy Jr, I'm scared as hell about telling my friends I'm sleeping with a guy'. The words all got lost amongst the action.

I need to find him now. Buffy sent me to fetch him 'cause Willow and Giles heard from a magically inclined friend that there was a massive energy spike (which got me thinking about my Spike and what an idiot I've been) that might mean something big and scary has jumped into our dimension. Buffy wants to be ready to fight it, so she needs Spike as backup.

I have no idea what to say to him. “Hey Spike. Remember what I said about us? I didn't mean it.” “Hey, Spikey old buddy...” “Hey, Spikester!” No. None of those would sound right, or mean anything. I want to call him, but he doesn't have a phone in the crypt even if he was there, and I can't see Spike walking into a store and buying a cell phone.

An old guy just walked straight into me. He's dressed as Santa. Man, folks are really getting into the Halloween spirit. He's the fifth trick-or-treater I've seen tonight.

“Ho ho ho! What would you like for Christmas, young man?” he asks me.

I stare at him. I don't know why I say it, but I do. “I'd like my boyfriend back, but it's not gunna happen.” It doesn't seem to phase him. He just smiles at me. That pisses me off. “Besides, you're in the wrong world, Saint Nick. This is Halloween land.” I give him my best Spike sneer, but he doesn't even blink. He looks around, a little surprised.

“I'm ever so sorry! Must have got a crossed line somewhere. How embarrassing!” H turns to leave, then looks back over his shoulder at me. “And don't worry about your boyfriend- everything will work out.” And he just tapped his nose and disappeared. Like, in front of my eyes vanishes. Maybe it's just me, but I have the feeling that the strangers I meet are getting stranger than ever before.

12 Give Me Something Good to Eat

Clem came over today. Was good 'cause I needed the company. The first day after the party, I found myself crying over the smallest things. I spent half an hour crying just because I saw a trailer for a film we were going to go see.

But I'm a century old. I've learned how to deal with with the pain of heartbreak. And a day watching horror films and eating Cheetos is a good distraction. So that's what we did. I'm just rewinding the tapes now.

Sometimes I miss being really evil. There's something lacking in watching horror films on the pathetic excuse for a television I call my own. In the good ol' days, I'd have sent a minion out to steal me a decent one, one that does justice to the fake blood and has a sound system that doesn't make the terrified screams sound tinny. But I digress...

The last tape has finished rewinding, so I can go drop these back at the video store. It's a nice enough night for a stroll, and I can take the longer route home, swing by the Bronze and pick up one of those flowering onion things. Bloody good, they are.

Nothing much changes round here. Most of the graves I pass haven't had flowers laid on them in a decade. Good reason for that too. Some of the names on the headstones at the back match the ones on the headstones at the front. Time and demons make all humans into coffin fodder, especially in a town like this. Depressing thoughts, but true all the same. At least someone's thinking about them, one dead thing to another.

I don't like where my thoughts are heading. This is eventually going to swing right back round to what Xander said the other night. Which means I might have to stay a little longer at the Bronze, or call into the liquor store for a bottle of Jack. Blind drunk is a good way to be.

Heh. Must have got lost further in my thoughts than I realised, 'cause there's the video store. The florescent 'open' sign in the window flickers and buzzes, the low hum makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. One of the few downsides to having extra-sensitive hearing. The bloke at the counter is making idle chit chat, putting aside his magazine for a minute. It's open on a page that's covered in greasy stains I don't want to know the cause of and a topless woman beams a perfect Hollywood style smile from the paper. The topless woman's name is Candi, according to the little text box next to her. She wants to be an actress.

Once upon a time, I would have had my own copy of that magazine. Would probably have tossed off while looking at Candi's obviously fake tits. Not now. I have a minor freak out as I'm walking out the door because I've just noticed she did nothing for me. My cock is worryingly soft.

My feet seem to have a mind of their own though, as they've taken me straight to the Bronze. I claim a booth that's just been vacated by a group of girls on a hen night. A waitress comes over to take my order. I smile at her and she smiles back before going off to get the bloke in the kitchen to fry up one of those onion things for me.

I watch the hen night girls staggering around on the dance floor in heels that look like they could be used as offensive weapons. They're practically throwing themselves at whichever hapless male happens to wonder into their path. They laugh drunkenly, an off key sound that reminds me far too much of Harmony. The girls stumble off in the direction of the ladies room, all at the same time, which is something I'll never understand the reason for. The slayer and Red and Glinda do the same thing. They all go off together and me and Xan are usually left alone for a few minutes.

Yeah, there we go. Back to thinking about him. Right on cue it seems, as the beer mug in front of me is in need of being refilled. The waitress must have brought the onion blossom thing over while I was focussed on the dance floor. It doesn't seem all that appetising now anyway.

I push the food around on its plate for a while like I used to do when I was a kid and mum wanted me to eat my vegetables up like a good boy. I didn't eat them. I used to feed them to the dog when mum wasn't looking. I'm not going to eat this now, but unless there's a conveniently placed puppy near by, it's just going to have to sit on the plate, mocking me. Don't ask me how deep fried onions can mock; they just do, okay? I'm feeling morose. Don't question me when I'm feeling morose.

I order another beer and a dozen whiskey chasers. It's not the best quality whiskey, but it's a far cry from the rot gut stuff Xander's dad drinks. There's always a score of cheap bottles of paint thinner masquerading as vodka in that house too. Xander doesn't like the smell of whiskey. I stopped drinking it when we...

The colour reminds me of his eyes.

I look up and there he is, walking though the door with Red and Glinda. Something bitter and twisted inside me makes itself known. I recognise it from far too much experience. Jealousy. The witches are holding hands. No-one cares that they're holding hands. No-one cares that they're together.

I look back down into the last of the whiskey. The glass seems endless yet far too shallow. Can't go round drowning your sorrows in a tiny little glass like this. It's time to pull out the big guns, the litre bottles, the stuff so strong it'll drive a bloke blind and half mad. Just something that can stop me remembering he doesn't want me.

I make the mistake of looking back up, just to check where they are so I can leave without him seeing me. Our gazes lock. I feel a frisson of fear trickle down my spine. I'm scared he'll look away first. I'm scared he won't look away at all. I break eye contact first. The alcohol in front of me seems suddenly fascinating again.

The seat next to me dips as his body slides in next to mine. He pushes a pint of beer in front of me. I have no idea what it means. I turn my head to ask, but I don't get a chance. His lips meet mine and I'm lost in the kiss. His tongue battles with mine as my hands slide up under his shirt. And then it's over. He's pulling away. I close my eyes so I don't have to look at him when he tells me he can't do this, can't be with me.

He doesn't say it. He says “Dance with me?” And he's getting up, pulling me by the hand over to the dance floor. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Red looking confused and Glinda doing that knowing smile of hers.

A slow song comes on and Xander wraps his arms around my waist. It feels good to be back in his arms. It feels weird to be held by him in front of people. We sway together, mindless of the crush of bodies around us as other couples dance.

“Trick or treat?” He whispers in my ear. That cold fear has returned. If this is his idea of a practical joke, it isn't funny. Not to me anyway. I don't want this to be a trick. We stop swaying. I look him in the eyes and he doesn't blink. He leans back in and whispers in my ear again. “I'll give you something good to eat.”

He bares his neck, offering it to me. My fangs drop before I can make a conscious decision. My rational brain knows I can't do this, can't hurt him. The chip won't let me. But the instinctive side of me is screaming to bite, to claim, to make him mine. His blood hits my tongue before I realise I've even bitten down. He shudders in my arms and moans my name.

There's no pain. There's just us. Two still figures in a sea of dancing bodies. And it's real. As real for him as it is for me. I lick the two little puncture marks until the bleeding stops. He looks at me like I've taken him to heaven and back, and I can smell his arousal.

We're leaving, right now. We can deal with the wrath of Willow later. Tomorrow maybe. Right now, Xander has a lot of making up still to do.

13 Wicked Witch of the Walmart

Me and Spike spent the last fourteen hours and thirty two minutes in bed. Most of that was spent making lurve but we did take a few minutes out to just kiss and touch each other. Mostly because I don't have the same recovery time as he does.

He's in the shower at the moment. We're going to go out and buy a pizza and some ice cream and spend a nice relaxing night in. Oh, who am I kidding? We're going to spend it in bed. But pizza is a must. I'm hungry and no food means no energy, and no energy means no sex. So, yeah, food.

Spike was happy to stay here and let me go shopping on my own, or to order in. But I made a decision last night. Well, actually, I made it when I met Santa, but if I said that, people would think I was crazy. Anyway, what I decided was that I don't want to hide any more. I don't want Spike to think I'm ashamed of him. Because I'm not. What I said was stupid. I got scared and I do stupid things when I'm scared. I guess that's just...

Guh... Spike's naked. He's naked and bending over to pull on his jeans. His hair's still damp from the shower and there are a few little drops of water on his back. I want to lick them off. He looks delicious.

He finishes dressing and I spare a moment to mourn the fact his perfect body isn't on display any more.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, the decision I made. I want to be able to hold Spike's hand in public. I want to be able to snuggle up with him when the girls have their movie nights. I want to dance with him at the Bronze and kiss him when we're at the Magic Box.

I stop the car outside Walmart. Spike pouts when the engine shuts off, stopping the racket blaring from the radio. I think it was meant to be music, but I couldn't tell if there were lyrics or notes or anything under that screeching, angry sound. He gets out the car and I follow, catching him by the wrist and pulling him in for a kiss. Someone wolf-whistles us, but we ignore it.

My stomach grumbles loudly, breaking the romantic moment, reminding me I need food. Spike laughs.

We walk into the store together, holding hands. It's late by normal people's standards, and there are only a few people wondering around. Most of the candy and chocolate has sold out, and so have a lot of the Halloween decorations. It's almost like people don't realise they've already bought costumes and paper pumpkins, and they keep on going to buy more.

The music playing over the sound system in here is the same as it was last time I was here, three days ago. If I ever have to listen to 'Monster Mash' or anything from Rocky Horror Picture Show ever again, it'll be too soon. Same goes for ever having to look at anything with an orange and black colour scheme. Paper pumpkins, plastic skeletons and cutesy ghosts are all out of the question too. I'm sick of Halloween. The worst part of it is that we're only half way through the month. There's still another... whole bunch of days to go.

We hold hands as we wonder down the frozen goods isle. It feels good. I'm half expecting to break into songs about going to see wizards and skipping around, but it feels good. We pick out three large pizzas and a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Spike's, it turns out, has a bit of a sweet tooth. He drags me two isles over and grabs a box of twinkies and some chocolate brownies.

We're still holding hands and heading off to the checkout counter to pay when I catch sight of a familiar flash of red hair. I was sorta hoping to avoid this for another day at least. I know she saw us at the Bronze yesterday, but I really don't want to have my coming out speech in the middle of a super market.

Spike squeezes my hand tightly and tries to pull away, to protect me from having to come out, to shield me from my best friend's... anger? Disappointment?

I don't let him let go.

Willow looks pissed. Yesterday she mentioned going to a Witches and Wizards party with Tara. It should be comical, but the fuzzy green sweater, black pants and pointy hat don't help matters.

I take a deep breath and prepare to face the Wicked Witch of Walmart.

14 Hippos Wearing Tutus

I'm not sure how this happened, but I'm at the Slayer's house, snuggled up on the couch with Xander, watching Disney movies with the Scooby gang. Last night was weird, what with Red not ripping me a new one for corrupting her bestest ever bestest friend, and weirder still when she invited us, as a couple, to the next movie night.

But this is just... weird. I look around at the assembled group. The witches are watching the screen with rapt attention, the slayer is painting her fingernails shocking pink and the Nibblet keeps shooting me and Xan evil looks. Of all of them, she's taking it the worst. It's not like her crush on my Xanpet was a big secret, and I'm told she had the hots for me too (no surprise there- I'm bloody sexy, me), but I'm not sure anyone was expecting her to be so hostile.

I have no idea why we're watching Disney films. And if I'm being honest, I don't really want to know. But curiosity is one of my trademarks (well, not really, but I like to know why things are happening), so I'm gunna have to ask. It's nearly the end of The Little Mermaid, so they'll be taking a break for more popcorn and drink refills in 5... 4... 3... 2...

Ah, there's the end credits. I'll ask now.

“Why Disney? What makes...” I look at the other videos on the table, “oh, bloody hell! What makes Beauty and the Beast a good choice for a Halloween movie marathon? Why not something with blood and violence?”

“Because Hippos wearing tutus just don't scare us the way they used to,” Red pipes up. They all start laughing. I shouldn't have asked.

Xander takes pity and explains it. “I rented Fantasia instead of Phantasm and we decided to make it a tradition to watch cartoons instead of real horror films. Like we need more blood and guts when we get that every time we patrol.”

I shrug. “Fair enough. I think Beauty and the Beast is a scary film anyway.” Oh bollocks. I said that out loud. Everyone's looking at me. “The beast reminds me of Angelus,” I mumble. They just stare at me some more. “Well, it's true. In the beginning, he has the same temperament as the Mighty 'Gelus, and they have the same overhanging forehead. And then he falls in love, turns good, and goes seeking his great redemption, eventually turning into a real boy. Oh, and that bit where he's getting his hair done? That just screams Angelus.”

“Now that is a scary thought,” Xander says, shuddering.

I couldn't agree more.

15 Can I Have A Puppy?

We're patrolling. Well, not really. We're taking a casual stroll round a cemetery. There's no vamp activity at all. It's completely dead out here, no pun intended. Spike's the only vampire we've seen in two weeks. Although I've seen a lot more of him than anyone else.

There's a creepy mist hanging round, and a bright moon overhead. Urgh. This is pointless. There's no reason for us to be out here when we could be doing something more fun at home, preferably naked.

I turn to tell Spike this, but he's stopped still, not moving a muscle, listening to something out of range of my pathetic human hearing. He motions for me to get down out of sight behind the nearest headstone, and I drop to the floor. The ground is soft from the rain that fell a few hours ago, and the knees of my jeans will be ruined with mud and grass stains.

Now I can hear it. Growling. Spike growls back and the all too familiar sound of fighting starts up. I risk a peek over my marble shelter and what I see scares me more than I thought possible. Spike's wrestling with a werewolf. I look back up at the sky, realising the implications of the full moon. We had all just assumed that because it was Halloween, we were all safe, that no evil would bother making itself known. We forgot about the fact that as the day remained the same, time still moved on, and that meant werewolves.

The fighting's stopped. I stand up shakily. Spike's stood in the same place he was, checking the pulse of the fallen creature. It's still alive, still fuzzy and wolf-like, just knocked out. Spike stands again and looks at me.

He's bleeding from half a dozen deep scratches and his shirt is torn right down the front. He's stunning. I'm breathing hard, trying to control myself and not just launch myself at him and let Cave!Xander out to play.

'Ugg! Me want pretty vampire. Pretty vampire must get naked now.' Cave!Xander has the right idea, and so does Little Xander, who's standing up and begging for attention. I can see the outline of Spike's hard-on through the tight jeans, and that tiny bit of control snaps.

We tear at each other, my nails raking over his perfect skin. His kiss sends me wild and in less than a minute, we're both tumbling through the ecstasy of orgasm and landing safely on the other side, panting and sated.

Spike looks at me and kisses me gently. “Can we keep him?” he asks, nodding towards the werewolf. “I've always wanted a puppy.”

I don't think so.

16 Old Friends

Bloody hell. Xan was in a weird mood last night. Not that I'm complaining, 'cause, well, it's hard to complain about anything when your brains have been sucked out of your dick. Which brings me back to 'bloody hell'. I don't think I can get out of bed- my knees are still weak from that last buggering. He was insatiable.

I honestly have no idea where he gets all his energy from! I'm in bed recovering from being shagged ten ways from Sunday, but he's in the shower. He sings when he's in the shower. I probably should go and join him... It would be a shame to waste all that lovely nakedness, wouldn't it? Besides, we're meant to be patrolling again in a little while. Sun will be going down in half an hour or so, which gives me plenty of time to make the most of showertime with my boy.

I stagger to my feet, and shuffle off to the bathroom. He jumps when I wrap my arms around him from behind.

“Your hands are cold,” he says as I explore his body. “And think about investing in a bell for next time you sneak up on me.” He hisses when I pinch his nipples in response. His cock makes a valiant effort to rise, but the beast is finally defeated. I'm not all that disappointed- I don't think either of us could manage another round.

We finish showering and dry off. I really need to go pick up the rest of my clothes from the crypt. I kick at the torn shreds of my shirt; it was ripped in the fight, but Xander officially killed it the second we got through the door, ripping it off me and dropping to his knees... Maybe I over-estimated a little when I said an hour or so...

Xander throws a clean shirt of his at me. I pull it on and can't help but smile. It smells of him. He sees me smiling and kisses me. Not like the passionate, bruising kisses from last night, but soft and gentle...

Not sure what we'll do when he has to go back to work. He booked Halloween off, and as it's still Halloween to everyone else for the next 15 days or so, he's got an extended paid vacation. Which is why we've been able to spend so long in bed. I'll miss it when this spell ends though.

We're just leaving the apartment when I sense it. Another vampire. It's been two weeks since the last time we met one, and this one feels strong. Old. I'm on guard, wanting to put Xander right back in that bed while I deal with the potential threat. He wouldn't appreciate that. One thing my Xan can't stand is being treated like he's weak. Still, my sixth sense is picking up the danger lurking somewhere near.

Then I see it- a bat flapping around the hallway, and I roll my eyes. That explains everything.

“Alright, tosser. Get your flappy arse down here and fight me like a real vampire,” I say. Xander looks confused, glancing around before realising I'm talking to the animal. Then realisation dawns and he's reached the same conclusion I have.

Dracula, in all his poncey glory, materialises in front of us. He looks right at my Xanpet and I growl. Xan told me about his little stint as Drac's whipping boy, and I can't say I'm happy about it. If that wanker thinks he's getting his hands on him again, he's got another think coming.

“I see my servant is well,” he says, addressing Xander. I growl.

“Piss off,” I tell him, putting myself between the other two.

“William, ever the wordsmith,” Dracula says with that annoying mocking tone in his voice that only serves to piss me of more. “It lacks poetry though.”

“Yeah? Try this one then- There once was a ponce called Vlad Drac, Who was a complete and total prat. His tricks are a joke, All mirrors and smoke, And he's not very good in the sack.” I get a warm, satisfied feeling from the look on his face and behind me I can hear Xan trying not to laugh.

“You dare to defy me!” Drac screeches, and Xander loses it. He's laughing like a drain, not that drains laugh, and pointing at the caped git. He's laughing so hard that there are tears running down his face.

Drac looks like someone slapped him. He's not used to being laughed at; he doesn't know quite how to react. He chooses the worst possible way. He flounces- there's no other way to describe it- he flounces off in the direction of the exit and trips up on the hem of his cape. He's so stunned he doesn't even try to catch himself, just lands flat on his face.

Xan's laughing so hard he's got hiccups now and I'm laughing too. Drac shoots us a scathing look and disappears through the window in a puff of smoke.

Me and Xan stay right by the apartment door, still laughing. Sometimes, unlife is sweet.

17 Pumpkin Pie

This is, I'm told, Dawn's way of apologising to me and Spike for the way she acted around us the other night. I'm not sure what its meant to be, but its in a pie dish. The top is burnt beyond all recognition. When Buffy dropped it in front of me at the Magic Box, she told us to say we ate it and just throw it straight in the trash.

Spike's poking at it. Ha! His finger just poked through the layer of singed... I want to say pastry, but I wouldn't put money on it. He waves the finger at me, asking if I want a taste. There's no way I'm putting that in my mouth.

Spike, on the other hand, has no problem sticking his tongue out and licking the pie filling off his finger. He pulls a face that lets me know I made a good move in not trying it. He looks adorable.

Spike turns to Buffy, looks her dead in the eye and says, seriously, “Never. Let. Dawn. In the kitchen. EVER. Again.”

Buffy laughs, but nods anyway. “What did she put in it?” she asks.

Spike frowns, considering the question. “I think it's pumpkin and onion...”

18 An Unusual Smell

Something I've learnt in since this spell hit us is that Halloween is a sodding strange holiday. Its the little things you don't notice when you're busy being not evil for a night, like this human obsession with covering houses in eggs and bog roll. If that's the human equivalent of being evil, then I'm glad I'm a vampire.

Xander's mostly grown out of the need to play pranks, and this month long day off work is finally getting to him. He has this thing about feeling useful, and sitting around on his arse is doing nothing to help. Of course, that means I've been forced into making him feel useful every night... or whenever else we feel like.

Today he felt like being extra useful (obviously I didn't do a good enough job in the shower when I shagged him slow and sweet, telling him just how much I want him and need him until he came) so he spent some time over at the Magic Box building some shelves for the Watcher. I spent my day being useful too, by helpfully staying out of his way and alternating sleeping with watching telly.

He's just come home. I was never a fan of the Village People back when they were popular, but the construction worker look suits Xan perfectly. He's all dressed up right now, reeking of sweat and radiating heat. So sexy.

I'm on my knees in front of him before he's even managed to get the door fully closed. I unbuckle his belt and nuzzle at the growing bulge in the front of those tight jeans. He moans and fumbles at the buckle of his belt. It doesn't take him long to get his belt and jeans open and his cock out.

I swallow him down, feeling the coarse hairs tickling my nose. He tastes so good, like chocolate and sunshine. My own cock is throbbing, and I want to take myself out and give it the relief it needs, but Xan's about ready to pop and I can wait. It won't be a long wait.

He cums hard down my throat and I swallow every drop. Tastes like heaven, or the closest I'll get to it at any rate. His softening, happy cock slips from my mouth and I rest my head against his thigh as he strokes his fingers through my hair.

I take a deep breath and immediately regret it. There's a putrid smell of something I can only describe as evil cheese hanging around. I take a quick look around for whichever demon found its way into the apartment. I launch myself away from the stench. Xander kicks his work boots off and steps towards me. The smell's got about a thousand times worse and I've worked out the cause.

Using all my preternatural speed and skill, he's locked in the bathroom before he has a chance to take another step towards me.

“You're not coming out until you've washed your sodding feet!” I yell at him. He laughs at me. Hmph.

19 Promises to my alter-ego

We're going trick or treating tonight! For real this time, with no cross-dressing distractions, or interruptions of the demonic variety. Spike's sulking. I threatened him with my work boots until he agreed to go. It was funny, watching him wrinkle up his nose at the memory of the smell. It wasn't all that bad for my mortal nose, but Spike was acting like it was the worst smell in the world. So of course I had to exploit his weakness.

I'm glad there was no-one around to see it though; I'm sure the sight of a grown man running through an apartment, waving a boot, chasing a vampire and yelling “trick or treat or smell my feet!” would have been my VIP ticket to a padded cell.

Look at us! We're outside, in costume and way too old for this, but that doesn't matter 'cause WE'RE GOING TRICK OR TREATING! Yes, I'm jumping up and down and doing that squealy, clappy thing that girls do. Spike's rolling his eyes at me. He really doesn't understand this holiday. For him, it's about a day off, but for the rest of us, its about free candy. And that, my friend, is the spirit of ALL holidays.

My costume looks great. Spike said I should have put on some bondage gear and gone as his pet, but I said no to that- there's some things I don't want my friends seeing, and gags and cock cages fall firmly in that category. So I'm dressed as Spiderman. And the best bit? Spike's dressed as Peter Parker! Yeah, my idea, and not very convincing 'cause he refused to dye his hair, but my inner geeky fanboy is having a field day.

We, well, Willow, knocks on the door of the first house. We get a good handfull of candy each, and eat most of it on the way to the house next door. Spike hangs back, scowling. I wait for him to catch up and give him a kiss. He tries to deepen it. Its a cheap attempt to get me to give in and go home that I see right through. It doesn't work, but I do offer him a piece of chocolate. He takes his time licking the melting chocolate off my fingers and for a second I think about taking him home and making him lick melted chocolate off other parts of my body. But I catch on to what he's doing and pull my hand away.

We go to a dozen more houses, and Spike gets more and more pissed off with each one. I'm pretty sure he's going to bite the next person who asks him who he's meant to be dressed as. He actually vamped out at the little old lady at number 64, and when she said his vampire costume wasn't very convincing, I thought he was going to kill her and then us, but he's controlling himself very well.

I take pity on him. I tell him we can go home after one more house. And who knows, maybe we'll get to play with the bondage gear later...

20 Halloween Poems

I'm not going out trick or treating ever again in my unlife. Apart from more candy than anyone could possibly consume, I can't see a reason for it. Maybe I'm getting cynical in my old age, or maybe it's my generation. When I was Xander's age, we didn't have any of the special effects in movies, or movies at all for that matter, so ghost stories and poems and plays were actually scary to us.

Once upon a time I tried writing some scary poetry, but like all of my writing, it wasn't well received. Can't remember it by heart, but it went something along the lines of 'there's a ghost in my room, that makes me scared; he has long nails, and is white haired' then there were some entirely unmemorable lines that I don't remember, then something, something, something, 'if I close my eyes, he'll leave me alone'.

When I mentioned that I used to write poetry, Xan asked if it was good, or if it was along the lines of the poems from Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy that could be used as torture methods. I gave him my best scowl and spun some bullshit about my writing being around the same standard as Shakespeare that neither of us believed for a second.

So I let him read some of my better poems and he laughed. He's currently tied to the bed, blindfolded, with a gag in his mouth. That'll stop him laughing.

My poetry isn't really all that bad, is it? Certainly not along the lines of torture material. Although, I suppose I could test that theory out on Peaches next time in in LA...

21 Stone

When I die, hopefully many years from now as an old man, I'm writing a bit into my will that I don't want one of those stone angels on my grave. Partly because I don't believe in angels, or not the ones with harps and cherub faces like they show you in church, and partly because when I was little, Uncle Rory thought it would be a real funny idea to tell me that every night the stone angels and gargoyles came alive and would eat little boys and girls straight from their beds.

He broke up a paving slab and strapped the pieces to his hands and feet, climbed up the stairs so it sounded like I was being stalked by a stone monster, and laughed when he threw the door open, shouted 'Boo!' and made the little four year old me wet the bed. Dad thought it was funny too.

Spike doesn't laugh when I hold his hand a little tighter when we pass those stone monstrosities on patrol. He just squeezes back and growls at the threat. The grown up in me knows that the stone is just stone, but the four year old in me likes it when Spike gets protective. No matter what nasties are out there in the dark, I can breathe easy knowing my lover is ten times scarier.

22 Superstitions and Old Wives Tales

Did you know that Xander has no idea how to bake a cake? When I was a lad, I spent hours in the kitchen, watching the cook bake cakes and make up jellies and the like. Xander tried frying eggs for dinner last night. He burnt them and called for pizza. Pitiful. Not to mention he nearly blew up the apartment when he forgot to switch the gas off. That may may have been the first time he's ever tried cooking anything. So last night I decided to show him how to cook.

And that's just what we're doing. It's slow work, but we've finally got to mixing the ingredients together. He puts the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl and whines when I tell him to put some effort in to mixing the two together. I stick my tongue out at him- childish I know, but who really cares?

He cracks the eggs into a bowl and goes to throw the shells away. For a moment, I channel the ghost of that cook I was saying about, and I slap him on the back of the hand with a wooden spoon. My chip fires. Damn.

“What the hell, Spike?” he shouts at me. I wince as the sound aggravates my brand new shiny migraine.

“You have to break the shells up,” I tell him between clenched teeth as I shake my head to clear it.

“Huh?” Oh look at that. He looks adorable when he's confused.

Break the shells to bits for fear, the witches should make it a boat my dear; For over the sea, away from home, Far by night the witches roam,” I recite to him. He stares at me. And then he laughs. I can't decide whether to pout or scowl.

“You believe that?” he wheezes out between giggles. Ah, scowling it is then. He laughs harder.

“I'm not saying Red and Glinda are going to go dumpster diving so they can take a midnight trip across the ocean,” I mutter indignantly. “But you can never be sure, can you? Like breaking mirrors or walking under ladders. You just don't take the chance. Besides, this being the Hellmouth and all...”

He stops laughing and flicks his gaze to the egg shells lying harmlessly on the counter top. He grabs the rolling pin from where I left it when I made an attempt to show him how to make pastry, and creeps up on the shells like he expects them to explode or suddenly grow a crop of tiny witches at any second. The wooden rolling pin smashes down on them over and over, shattering the delicate shells to pieces. The sound grates horribly and I have to restrain myself from jumping on my Xanpet and begging him to make the noise stop.

“I think that's enough, love,” I hiss at him. He pauses, rolling pin raised, and looks at the remains of his vanquished foe. Thank all that's unholy, he's put the rolling pin/torture implement down. I rub my temples to ease the headache. “Good. Now come here and gimme a kiss.”

Oh, that's much better. Y'know what? I think we can leave cake making classes for another night. Got much more pressing issues to deal with right now. Like getting the clothes off my boy, starting with this bloody apron... Bugger... Grrr...

Bloody knots!

23 Bottom's Up

I don't drink. I don't have the fabled Harris drinking genes. So how did Spike manage to get me sat at a table in the Bronze, downing cocktails like they're going out of fashion? Every time he goes to the bar he comes back with another brightly coloured concoction for each of us. I've had enough already- the room is looking a little fuzzy at the edges, but Spike insists on just a few more rounds.

This one is dark red with bits of licorice sticking out the glass. He claims its called a Black Widow, but I don't care much what it's called 'cause it has food in it and tastes sharp and sweet and really good. Spike pushes the licorice from his glass into mine and goes off to the bar for another round.

He comes back with a yellow-ish drink that could have been beer if it had bubbles in. He doesn't tell me what this one is, just hands it over. It tastes amazing! Like caramel apples. It's sweet, and I'm not sure if there's any alcohol in it at all.

“What is it?” I slur at him.

“Caramel flavour vodka topped up with apple juice,” he tells me.

I lean forward on the table, or I try to at least. The table isn't quite where I left it and my elbow slips. Spike snickers and I glare at him, all three of him. Damn vampires, multiplying like that... The room is spinning quite nicely. I like it.

Mmmm... Spike's holding me, taking me somewhere. I hope he's going to kiss me, 'cause Spike kisses are the best. He's talking to himself about something. Sounds like someone's had “one two many” and “should be tucked up in bed”. Huh. Wonder if its anyone I know? I wonder where Spike's taking me... I hope its not too far 'cause my legs aren't going where I'm telling them to go. They're wobbly and I'm tired and Spike's arms feel good around my waist.

Ah, look! This is my front door. Of course. Makes much more sense for him to ravish me at home away from drunk strangers, right? He's steering me towards the bedroom, onto the bed and I;m reaching out for him, pulling him closer and...

24 Magic in the Air

Xander has a hangover. He's been complaining since he woke up, but as it's partly my fault, feeding him cocktails til he passed out, I'm not making fun of him. Well, not too much. I'm not used to human drinking partners, and Harris is a lightweight anyway- probably shouldn't have let him drink that last one. Or ten.

It was nice though, being out with my boyfriend like that. Yeah, I'm a soppy git for saying it, but its a bit of a novelty. William the Bloody has a boyfriend. A real, living, breathing boyfriend, the kind that teenage girls would die for. Someone to go to the movies with, hold hands with, snuggle up to on the couch, do normal things with. Not that our lives are in any way normal of course.

Christ, Xan looks rough. He's doing that thing where he looks like a kicked puppy and all you want to do is give him a cuddle and make it all better. Not a chance. He smells like a brewery. I'm not going to shove him in the shower again, 'cause last time I did that he threatened to withhold sex. He is going to have to get dressed though. Nice as the sight of all that lovely tanned skin and toned muscles is, there's a Scooby meeting in ten minutes.

The slayer phoned earlier (and yeah, I owe Xan another new phone- the old one is in about a hundred pieces in the garbage disposal) and demanded we show up to deal with some sort of brand new crisis. It was a nearly civil conversation until she made a comment about me corrupting Xander. So I told her where to stick it and that's when the phone met its untimely end. What can I say? She pisses me off, the stupid cow.

I'd be more annoyed, but the idea of actually having something to fight after this long is giving me warm tinglies. Last thing I actually fought were those zombies, and they weren't exactly an equal match. I don't know if you know much about zombies, but the longer they're in the ground, the slower and dumber they are. The ones that crashed my crypt must have been dead for decades before they rose. Still, a fight's a fight.

Oh goody, Xander's dressed and pulling on his trainers. I know he was looking for his work boots, but I'm not going to be the one that tells him they followed the telephone down the garbage disposal. Hey, don't blame me for his mistakes! He shouldn't have threatened me with them. Tosser.

It's not far to walk to the Magic Box. Nowhere in Sunnydale is far to walk. It's a small town after all. We get there in under ten minutes, although it feels like much longer 'cause Harris complained about his hangover every few steps. I offered to knock him out so he couldn't feel his headache any more, but he didn't like that idea. I didn't either, but a zap from the chip might have been worth it to shut him up for a few minutes.

Xander's little friends are all sat around the table, reading books and sipping coffee. Even Dawn's there tonight. She's bouncing in her seat and grinning at me and Xan. I frown. I still haven't worked out if that pie she made was a genuine peace offering or an elaborate attempt on our lives. Her gaze is focused on where me and Xan are holding hands. I roll my eyes.

“Faeries,” the slayer says, glancing up from her book.

“Hey!” Xan yells at her. “I don't care what you say about us behind closed doors, but there's no need for the name calling to our faces.”

Buffy blushes. It's a good look on her, all that blood so close to the surface... Focus, Spike.

“I meant, we're researching faeries. Because they're here. The little winged creatures, not the, y'know, gay guys.” Heh. It's funny when she gets all flustered. I make a mental note to wind her up some more.

“Oh. Right,” Xan mumbles. And that about sums it up. Fairies are mostly harmless. Dru made me catch her one back in 1907. She said it would tell her all the future, but all it did was throw some glittery sparks at her and escape the second she turned her back. Four bloody hours it took me to catch that thing, and she lets it go in less than a minute. Wonderful.

I think they might have some magic, but it's not powerful. Just light shows and minor glamours and the likes. Does explain why I've been feeling itchy since I woke up though. Fairy magic can do that. Humans don't feel it normally. They don't have the supernatural link or whatever. Can't feel it now though. And that means its in our apartment.

I look at Xan. I don't need to ask. His guilty expression is all the answer I need. So it looks like there's one too many fairies in the Harris/The Bloody residence. Well sod that. I march out of the shop and back to the apartment.


Xander came home and laughed. Didn't help me or anything, just laughed. Bloody fairy outsmarted me. I'm tangled up in the shower curtain in the middle of the living room, and pretty much anything breakable has been smashed to pieces in our struggle. There's a little blue fairy sitting on my knee, smiling up at me while I alternate between glaring at it and Xander.

I'll remember this next time Xan needs me to help him out. And if that happens to be in bed tonight, tough. Those chains will hold him a lot longer than this shower curtain will hold me. He had better start running now...

25 Only the Good

I asked Spike just now if he would ever turn me. Like if I was old, or sick, or about to die. He said he wouldn't. He said he would greet the sunrise the morning after my funeral, and follow me to the gates of whatever heaven I went to, just to say one more goodbye.

So I told him if he did that, I'd never forgive him. I told him I'd haunt him for the rest of his existence, so he'd never be alone. He said he could live with that. So could I. Well, you know what I mean. We'd be together, forever.

26 Sparks and Bitches

It's official. I hate witches. I hate Magic. And I especially hate the Slayer, just because. And I'm not talking to Harris either right now, the little wanker. See, it all started a few hours ago. The Bronze was holding it's 26th Halloween Party of the month, and Xan insisted that we all go. All of us.

He used dirty, underhand tactics to get me to agree too. I mean honestly, how's a bloke meant to concentrate on what's being said when he's being ridden into oblivion by his boyfriend? I know he was asking me questions, but its not like I was listening. I was more at the 'I'll agree to anything so long as you let me cum now!' stage of things.

So when I wake up from my post-orgasm snooze, my adorable boyfriend, also referred to as the perpetual pain in my arse, announces that he's so happy I agreed to go to this shindig. So we go. I spend the first hour drinking as much as I can get my hands on, and then Xan asks me to dance. The last time we danced together, I got to have a taste of him, so there was no way I'd say no this time.

It felt great. Surrounded by life- sweating bodies, so much heat, pheromones thick as syrup fogging my mind... Xander's arse grinding against me and I'm hard. I grind against him and nearly shot my load when he bit down on my neck.

Now, I have no aversion to shagging in public, but the boy has a thing against public nudity. Nice as it would be to take him right there on the dance floor, it wasn't an option. So I grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the men's room. I pushed him into the stall furthest from the door and proceeded to suck his brains out of his cock. Then he did the same to me.

Bloody hell. If there's a heaven that lets vampires in, I swear to all that's unholy I was there. Not for long, but I doubt anyone could last more than a minute with Xander blowing them. He swallowed down every drop and licked me clean after.

When he's done, I'm more than ready to go home and strip him naked and have my wicked way with him. But Xander wanted to have one more drink with his mates. As if he didn't learn his lesson the other night!

So off we went to have one more drink. But when we got back out into the main bot of the club, sparks were flying. No, literally, I mean Red and some bint in a pointy hat and cape were throwing showers of sparks at each other. I suppose it was the magical equivalent of a bitch fight.

Anyway, Xan, white knight that he is, had to get involved. And the Bitch Witch threatened to turn him into a toad. So I got all riled up and had to go defend my man. Red cut off the firework display as soon as Xander got near, but Bitch Witch didn't show the same courtesy. A bolt of green lightning later and my Xanpet is hopping around on the floor. I scooped him up so he didn't get squished and yelled at both bints to change him back.

Red got on the case straight away. Unfortunately so did Bitch Witch. Both aimed their magic at Xan, and as I was holding him, at me too. And the next thing I know, I've got a full sized Xander in my arms and he's pointing at my head and laughing. All he ever seems to do is point and laugh at me nowadays.

I give him a questioning look and he laughs harder.

“You have green hair!” he cackles. Oh yeah, I really hate witches....

27 Alien Invasion Fleet

Demon free nights used to be a rarity in Sunnydale, and when we did have a night off fighting, it was usually caused by demonic activity anyway, so our time was spent researching. Since this spell hit us, we've had nothing but nights off and every one of us are on edge.

Buffy, Willow, Tara and Dawn went off to the Bronze again, hopefully without any toad-making escapades or hair dying fiascos. Spike spent hours complaining about the state of his hair until the shops opened this morning and I could go pick him up some more bleach.

The re-bleached menace is, once again, crashed out in front of the television. The difference tonight? He's practically vibrating out his skin. Seems that some naughty little vampire found his way into my stash of Halloween candy and has been bouncing round the apartment for hours. The sitting still is a nice change from the superspeed running around.

Sometimes he reminds me of a pet. Like now, for instance. The sun's setting and he's all but scratching at the door waiting to be taken for walkies. I'd never tell him that- I value my limbs too much. I'm half afraid to open the door in case he wreaks as much havoc outside as he did in here. It looks like a scene from a disaster movie, with anything breakable broken and anything unbreakable on the floor anyway.

I open the door and he's gone like a shot. I follow much slower. By the time I get outside, Spike's already run twice around the block and burned off mist of the rest of his energy. He grabs me and gives me a deep kiss. If I were less manly, I would have swooned in his arms, but I'm a tough manly man so I stay on my feet until a flash of light cut through the sky.

Oh look at that, Spike's chasing the pretty lights. The last time any of us saw lights like that, we had to deal with a demon that liked killing insane people. Its probably best if I follow Spike just to make sure he doesn't get eaten by something bigger and badder than him.


When I catch up to Spike, I'm out of breath and sweaty. Spike's stood staring at what I can only describe as a spaceship. Like one from a cartoon, with little round windows and a drop down door that's opening right now...

Oh crap. There are little green men pointing at me. I hope that means 'this is interesting' and not 'this is food'. I have a little flicker of less-than-manliness when they shuffle towards me, and I step behind Spike. The aliens turn their attention to him instead. I don't know if that's good or bad...

“We must have that one,” they tell Spike in robotic, halting voices while pointing at me. He growls at them. They ignore him. “We require this one for testing.”

Testing. Like with probes and puckered body cavities? Oh god no. Spike draws himself up to his full height, which is still shorter than me, but more than twice theirs. He shifts into game face and roars at my would-be captors.

“This one is mine. The only one to stick anything up his arse will be me! Are we clear on that?” Sometimes I forget that Spike is a demon. Not right now. Right now he's the scariest thing this side of the Mississippi. The aliens seem to think so too. They make a hasty retreat back to their ship and leave as fast as possible. Spike speeds up the process by running at them and looking scary.

I love my vampire. Especially when he takes me home and shows me exactly what he meant when he said that he would be the only one to probe my ass...

28 Carving Faces

Would someone please explain the point of this to me? I have pumpkin smeared in places pumpkin has no right to be and all for the sake of making a face? This is not something a master vampire such as myself should be doing. Ever.

So why am I doing it? Because Xander bloody Harris asked me to. That boy has me so wrapped around his little finger its amazing I'm not physically wrapped up like a pretzel. Do ya know what he said to me? “Just pretend it's a real face you're carving up.” Who does he think I am? Bloody Angelus? Torture isn't my game. But I'm willing to make an exception if Xan asks me to do any more of these stupid Halloween things with him.

Oh look, there's a broken pumpkin on the floor. What a shame.

29 We Can Live Like Jack And Sally

I worked out something was up with Spike when he threw a handful of smashed up pumpkin at me last night. I can take a hint when I'm having to wash it out of my hair. I would have tried to make whatever was wrong with Spike right again last night, but he stormed off before I had a chance. He came home just before sunrise today and slept on the sofa. I had no idea how much I'd miss sharing a bed with him.

He didn't speak to me after he woke up. Glared at me, but no words. I cleverly worked out that he was still pissed off about something from the way he addressed the television. I'm not sure what a 'bollocking wanking arsewipe knob-end' really is, but either me, the TV or the person who replaced today's episode of Passions with It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is one.

I'm in the kitchen now, heating him up a mug of blood. I've made up a mug of hot chocolate too, 'cause Spike plus chocolate usually equals happy. I finish up on the kitchen and head back into the living room. Spike's staring at the screen, watching the little cartoon people. If I didn't know him as well as I do, I'd think he was just ignoring me, given his earlier outburst. But I do know him and this is him being interested in what's happening. He's about two steps away from yelling at the screen.

I'm not sure if its his age, or just a part of what makes Spike Spike, but no matter how many times I tell him the character's won't talk back to him, he still talks to them. Well, yells at them, is more accurate. And I know the television in his crypt has met the same fate as my telephones. Super-strength and enthusiasm are a bad combination.

I put both mugs on the little table in front of him. He reaches for the hot chocolate and pulls me down onto the sofa next to him. I snuggle up closer and his fingers begin to curl into the hair at the nape of my neck. It feels nice.

It feels a little like what I wanted Christmas to feel like; curling up on the sofa with my very own vampire, watching films and drinking hot chocolate. We're the real life Jack and Sally, with our Christmassy Halloween. I was never meant to live a normal life, was I?

30 Doing Spells

Tomorrow should be the last of this perpetual Halloween lark. I for one will be beyond happy. For a start, the vamps will be out in force and that means the Slayer can stop looking at me like I'm going to be having a final meeting with her favourite stake. She's so on edge its funny. She's... twitchy. Like she's had too much caffeine. Or it would be funny if it didn't put me at risk of being staked.

Xander's trying to keep the peace, and I'm playing nice for his sake as much as mine. I know he's trying, and that I can be a pain in the arse, but the fact is that we're from different worlds. He's so much light and I'm darkness. No matter how hard I try to be part of his world, I can't really be. I'm a demon. He forgets that sometimes. I forget that sometimes when I'm with him.

Anyway, I was lamenting on the fact that Buffy (yes, I can use her name, I just prefer not to) has an itchy staking hand. We went to the magic box for a pointless meeting, Buffy threatened me with the pointy end of a stake and me and Xan went home. She wasn't the reason why though. The witches were there too, and they reeked of each other. Could have drowned in the pheromones.

Now, I was raised as a gentleman, and one of the first unspoken rules of being a gentleman is to not show the hot lesbians that you have a boner because of them. Okay, I may have made that rule up, but the point still stands. I may be with my Xanpet now, but that doesn't mean I don't still get turned on by the idea of two lovely ladies being... intimate.

I left as soon as possible, dragging Xan with me. We didn't go far, just to the first convenient alley. He didn't complain when I kissed him senseless and all but humped his leg like a horny puppy. What can I say? It took the edge off. I'd feel embarrassed, and I did for all of five seconds before I realised he'd shot his load in his pants too.

Which brings us to now. We did a quick clean up with a tissue and made our way home, where we headed straight for the bedroom. Somewhere between rounds two and five he asked why I was, and I'm quoting here, 'so damn horny'. So I told him. I described in a lot of detail exactly why. And I rode him slow and sweet until we were both satisfied.

I know he thinks about Red and Glinda together sometimes. He calls it 'doing spells'. I have no problem with him thinking about them, so long as he stays mine. But if Xander ever refers to my cock as a magic wand again, I'll turn him into a eunuch.

31 Don't Say a Word

Y'know what today is? Its the thirtieth of November. Or, this year, it's the 31st day of Halloween. We've been having a countdown at the Magic Box. Every half an hour or so, someone will ask what the time is. It's five minutes 'til midnight. Five more minutes until time resets itself and things go back to what passes for normal around here.

Spike and Buffy have made a temporary peace treaty for the night. She's sat opposite us right now, with Dawn next to her on one side and Giles on the other. I'm sat on Spike's lap. Every now and again I'll wriggle a little bit just to feel him growling. He's not angry, just horny. See, I can feel his hard-on pressing into me and I'm enjoying teasing him.

Willow and Tara are sat next to us. I can't look them in the eyes after last night. Oh, I won't deny it was one hell of a night, but I'm worried they'll look at me and know that me and Spike had sex while thinking about the two of them having sex. And that's not something I want to share with my best friend and her girlfriend.

Just one minute to go. I wonder if we'll be going back to the beginning of November, or if we'll skip straight to December? I suppose we'll find out when the newspapers, televisions, radios and computers work it out for themselves.

Ten seconds. Everyone's holding their breath. Even Spike, who doesn't need to breathe. There's an unnatural stillness as we watch the last seconds tick away, like we're scared to move in case time changes its mind and gives us more Halloween...

And now it's over. A month of Halloween is over, marked by a collective outward breath and relaxing muscles. Dawn laughs. And just like that, the tension's broken, and we're all laughing. I hug Spike tightly. Giles turns on the radio and the first thing we hear is 'it's the first day of December, folks, and Christmas is just around the corner. Now we're going to play some Madonna for--'

Well, that answers one question...

“He shouldn't have mentioned Christmas,” Dawn says, shaking her head. “Now I'll have this stupid song stuck in my head all week.”

“What song's that, sweetie?” Tara asks.

Dawn sings. She sings it. Oh dear God... “Oh, I wish it could be Christmas everyday!


The End