Spikedluv's Scribblin'

~BtVS/Ats: The Seduction of Spike~

Back to Spike/Xander Fanfic

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When Visions Come True
by Spikedluv

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Part Three

Xander hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, after Giles performed the revealing spell and gave him the ‘good news’ that he was not under a spell as he’d so desperately hoped, even after all he’d learned about the orb’s properties. He’d declined Willow’s offer to talk in favor of going home where he could sulk and rage by turns in the privacy of his empty apartment.

He just couldn’t believe that his recent unnatural feelings for, and attraction to, Spike were, well, natural. There was absolutely no support for it. First of all, not gay. So not gay. Secondly, vampire. Not him, Spike. And he hated vampires. Thirdly, he hated Spike outside of the fact that he was a vampire. He was just...obnoxious, arrogant, overbearing, insolent...and a whole lot of other words that he was too upset to think of right now.

The thought that he now found the vampire attractive...all right, downright sexy...was nearly enough to turn his stomach. And the irony of contemplating the vision of a happy future with dismay and disgust was not lost on Xander. Christ, why Spike? He’d have been more accepting of anyone else but Spike. Well, maybe not Angel.

Which is why he now stood outside Spike’s crypt on a Friday night. After much debate—mostly internal—and more than a few mangled magazines Anya’d left behind, he’d decided to disprove that stupid vision on his own. He was going to ask Spike out on a date. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Spike it was a date. He wasn’t stupid. Well, not that stupid. He was, after all, here to ask Spike out, so there was some amount of stupidity involved.

He took a deep breath and pounded on the door, and then pushed it open and poked his head inside. “Spike? You in here?” he called into the darkness, broken only by a few scattered candles, as he stepped into the crypt.

Spike’s head popped up out of a hole in the floor. He rolled his eyes when he saw Xander. “What do you want?” he growled as he climbed the rest of the way up.

“I, uh.... What were you doing down there? Isn’t it all...?”

“Yeah. Just tryin’ to clean up the mess soldier boy made. Slayer send you?”

“Wha—? No!” Xander yelped, and then realized Spike was probably talking about patrol, rather than Buffy knowing about Xander’s covert attempt to take Spike out on a date. “I mean, uh, no. I just, um, was going to The Bronze, and wondered if you wanted to go. Play some pool.”

Spike was staring at him as if he’d lost his marbles. “You get hit on the head, Harris?”

“No, I just.... I’m buying,” he tried desperately.

Spike’s frown deepened. Xander suddenly felt completely foolish. What an idiot! What made him think Spike would agree to spend time with him, date or not? Granted, they’d spent some time together over the last summer, but a lot had happened since then.

“Never mind,” he said, taking a step back. “You’re busy. I’ll just, um...” He swallowed hard. “...go.”

Xander turned and stumbled to the door, pulled it open, and staggered out into the night. He leaned one hand against the crypt and took a couple deep breaths to calm himself before pushing away and heading for the cemetery entrance and the relative safety of his car. Stupid, stupid! he berated himself. Why had he thought this would work again?

It was a good thing he was so sure the vision was fake, despite how real it felt. If he’d only thought it through, rather than freaking out, he would have realized that the vision could never happen because, as much as he hated Spike, the vampire hated him with equal fervor. He should have felt relief, but was gripped with an inexplicable sorrow instead. He tried to tell himself it was just because the whole evening stretched out in front of him with nothing to do, but he wasn’t buying that explanation.

“I want one of those flowerin’ onion things,” Spike said as he dropped into step with Xander, who shrieked like a girl.

“Great googlie mooglie, Spike!” Xander yelled, clutching at his chest.

Spike just smirked at him.

“I thought you....”

“I’m feeling a bit peckish, and since you offered to buy....” He left the sentence hanging.

Shocked, Xander’s feet slowed and Spike moved ahead of him. “Hurry up, Harris,” he called back.

Despite the shock he’d just had, Xander couldn’t help but smile at the vampire’s back as he jogged to catch up, his heart feeling unaccountably lighter. He unlocked the passenger side door and opened it for Spike, who shot him a look. Xander gave a nervous laugh when he realized what he was doing and berated himself as he jogged around the car. He had to be careful not to do anything out of character and give up the game. Well, more out of character, since hanging out with Spike was out of character in and of itself.

As Xander pulled the car into the street, Spike growled, “Knock that off.”

“What?” Xander asked. He was too giddy that Spike had accepted his invitation to let the vampire’s snark get to him.

“You’re whistling. It’s bloody annoying.”

Xander blushed. “I was not!”

“Were to.”

“Not!”

“Were!”

The argument ended only when they got to The Bronze. Once inside, Spike made straight for the bar and ordered himself a beer, then headed for the pool tables, leaving Xander to order his own beer, pay for them both, and then follow him. When he reached Spike, the vampire was waiting impatiently. He held his hand out.

“What?”

“Quarters.”

“Quarters?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Can’t play without quarters.”

Xander reached into his pocket. “You couldn’t put down a quarter?”

“You’re payin’, aren’t you?”

Xander pulled out a handful of change and gave Spike all the quarters he had, wondering for the one hundredth time if this wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had.

Spike snagged a table and they watched the people who were ahead of them play. Xander tried to make small talk, but Spike didn’t seem too keen on that. Xander wracked his brains to think of something that would interest Spike.

“So,” he said, “football. That’s, like, soccer, right?”

Spike just blinked at him, and then turned away and grabbed a passing waitress. He held up his bottle. “Bring us another, eh, luv? And one of those flowerin’ onion things.”

The waitress smiled at Spike and Xander felt a twinge of jealousy when Spike smiled back.

“Bring him the bill,” he added, pointing to Xander.

The waitress turned to him. “Can I bring you anything, hon?”

“Yeah...” He smiled at her. “...since Mr. Courteous here couldn’t be bothered....” He glared at Spike. “I’ll have another beer and an order of your wings.”

“Make that two,” Spike interjected and Xander kicked at him under the table, missing.

“Sure thing.” She looked at Spike from beneath her lashes. “Be right back with your drinks, boys.”

Before they finished their food, their turn came up. They lost the first game handily.

“Pull your weight, Harris. I can’t carry your ass,” Spike groused as he inserted their second pile of quarters.

“I just need to warm up,” Xander asserted weakly. He really wasn’t any good at pool, and tried to remember why he thought he could keep up with Spike.

Despite having Xander for a partner, Spike managed to win the next game pretty much single-handedly. No one stepped up to claim the next game, so Spike and Xander continued playing. Since they were now playing against each other, the games didn’t take long and Spike happily wiped the floor with him.

While Spike was racking the balls for the next game, Xander stole a piece of Spike’s onion, which had gone cold.

“I saw that,” Spike said as he bent over the table and broke.

Xander swallowed hard when his eyes locked on Spike’s ass. He’d tried so hard not to stare at Spike—either while they were sitting at the table, or when they were playing—and he hadn’t meant to look now, but since he had.... His concentration was broken when the big guy he’d seen Spike here with before slapped Spike on the back as he was just getting ready to take his next shot. The shot went wide and Spike stood up with a glower that turned to a smile when he recognized the man.

Xander watched, feeling like an outsider while they exchanged an elaborate handshake similar to the one he’d witnessed before, and then proceeded to catch up. Spike laughed, and Xander felt a pang of sadness that he’d never been able to put that look on the vampire’s face. And then he spent the next five minutes reminding himself that he was supposed to be attempting to disprove the vision, not mooning over Spike.

Xander felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room when the big guy said, “So, who’s your friend?”

“Not my friend,” Spike denied. “Harris, Reggie,” he made a cursory introduction.

Xander waved nervously. “Hi.”

Reggie stepped closer and held his hand out. Xander stared at the large paw before carefully placing his hand into it. The other man’s grip was gentle, as if he knew his strength and was careful not to misuse it.

“Pleased to meet you, Harris,” he said. His voice was soft, and Xander figured he didn’t need to bellow, as anyone with a bit of brains would stop and listen when he started to speak. “My full name’s a bit of a mouthful, but my friends call me Reggie.”

“Um, hi, Reggie,” Xander managed to squeak out. “My name’s not so much of a mouthful. Alexander. Harris. Alexander Harris. But my friends call me Xander.”

Reggie smiled. “Xander.” He looked behind him at the table. “I believe it’s your shot.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

Xander moved around the table looking for the best shot, and then leaned over the table to line it up.

“Spike!” Reggie said. “Show the boy how to stand properly. And how to hold his stick. No wonder you’re kicking his a—, butt.”

Xander almost laughed out loud when Reggie politely said ‘butt’, but then Spike, despite glaring at Reggie, moved behind Xander and put one hand on his hip. “Spread ‘em, Harris.” Xander choked. Reggie laughed out loud at the look on Xander’s face.

Spike snarled, “Oh for...!”

---

Xander had been nervous all week, unsure whether he should pursue this crazy idea he had of disproving the vision—aka, seeing if he and Spike were even compatible as friends, much less lovers. He’d thought of little else since Friday night, and it was already Thursday without him having run into Spike. How could he casually invite the vampire out if he didn’t even see him? Maybe it was fate’s way of telling him he shouldn’t both—. His heart dropped when the bell jingled and Spike strode into the Magic Box. Xander stared at Spike from under his lashes while he tried to bring his heart rate back under control.

“What’s up?” the blond asked as he smoothly jumped up onto the counter.

“Good,” Giles said, “everyone’s here.” He looked around the table. “I did some research on the demon Buffy killed the other night. Based on her description, I’ve determined that it might be possible that the demon left behind a nest of young that are currently getting very hungry. We need to find her lair and eliminate them.”

Giles split them up into three groups—Willow with Buffy, Xander with Spike, and Anya with Giles—and divided the town into three search areas. Everyone gathered weapons, and Giles handed out the walkie-talkies, instructing them to contact the others if they found anything. “Don’t take them on yourself,” he said, staring directly at Spike.

It took over three hours for them to search the town, and they found no evidence of a nest or any demon spawn. Giles determined that the mother demon wouldn’t have traveled too far from the nest, and concluded that it was unlikely that the nest was located outside the area they’d already searched. He called a halt to the search and told everyone to meet back at the Magic Box.

When they first started the search, Xander had tried to make small talk, but his throat was tight with nerves—due both to worry over the possibility of finding the demon young and over asking Spike out again—so he followed the vampire’s lead and remained silent, speaking only when necessary to facilitate their search. He sighed in relief when the search ended with no sign of the demon babies. They might be small, but Giles had impressed upon him that they’d be vicious. And hungry.

During the walk back to the shop, he ran lines through his head as he practiced asking Spike out, and discarded each one. There was no way he could think of to ask Spike if he wanted to go to The Bronze again that sounded casual. He couldn’t just drop it into their conversation, since they weren’t having one. He realized he had to act quickly when the Magic Box came into view.

“Wanna go to The Bronze tomorrow?” he blurted.

Spike didn’t look right at him, just kinda peered at him from the corner of his eye as if Xander was an unknown specimen. “Why?” he finally asked.

Xander’s brain stalled. “Ahh, play pool?” he eventually managed to get out.

“I mean, why me?” Spike said, his tone indicating that he thought Xander was a moron.

“Oh,” Xander responded. Damn it! Why couldn’t Spike just fall into line and say ‘yes’? “Well, uh, ‘cause you’re a guy...type...person, and I don’t have many of, um, those.” Oh, god, Spike would never say yes, now. He was a moron, Xander thought. At least he hadn’t broken down and admitted the truth.

“Spike!” Buffy called.

“Well?” Xander asked nervously.

“Wanna patrol now?” Buffy asked the vampire.

“Sure,” Spike called back, “I could use a good spot of violence.” He glanced at Xander as they walked toward her. “If nothin’ better comes up,” he allowed, and then turned and headed off with Buffy when she caught up with them.

“Gee, thanks,” Xander muttered.

“See ya, Xan!” Buffy gave him a little wave.

Xander showed up at Spike’s crypt after sundown the next night. A thorough search of the upper and lower levels revealed that Spike wasn’t home. He decided to head on over to The Bronze in a vain hope that Spike would be waiting for him there.

Xander ordered a beer and walked through the bar looking for Spike. Despite not finding him, Xander decided to stay and finish his beer. He figured it was marginally better than sitting alone in his apartment. He leaned against the wall near the pool tables and watched the games until a table opened up.

He seated himself and ordered another beer. Xander was halfway done with his second beer when someone clapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, startled, and then turned his head, expecting to see Spike.

“R-Reggie!”

“Xander, right?” the large man asked.

“Um, yeah,” Xander said, swallowing his disappointment.

“Spike here?” Reggie asked.

“Uh, no,” Xander said, and tried to smile.

“Flyin’ solo tonight, huh?” Reggie said, looking around. “Wanna play?” he asked, pointing at the pool table. “I’ve got the next game.”

“Oh,” Xander said with a laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t want me as your partner!”

Reggie just grinned. An hour later, Reggie and Xander had the table to themselves and Reggie was still patiently showing Xander how to adjust his stance, hold the cue stick, and line up his shots. Xander wasn’t ready to hustle anyone, but he felt like he could hold his own now. A grin split his face and Reggie slapped him on the back after he made an especially difficult shot.

He jumped back in surprise when he looked up and saw Buffy standing at the corner of the table. “B-buffy, hey!”

“Hey, Xander,” she said, looking over his shoulder at Reggie. “You seen Spike?”

“Uh, no, not tonight,” Xander told her.

Buffy sighed. “He said something last night about doing another search for that nest, but I can’t find him.” She looked up at Reggie again. “You do realize he’s a demon, right?” she asked softly enough so only the three of them heard her.

Xander pointed over his shoulder to Reggie. “Him?”

“Yes.” Buffy nodded.

Xander twisted around. “You’re a-a demon?”

Reggie shrugged. “Quarter. On my mother’s side.”

“Oh. Uh huh. You, um, you don’t want to kill me, do you? ‘Cause most demons seem to. Want that.”

“After all my hard work teaching you how to play pool?” Reggie asked.

Xander gave a nervous laugh. “That means ‘no’, right?”

Reggie just raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, okay.” He turned back to Buffy. “No Spike. So, you wanna play with?” He inclined his head towards the table.

“Nah, I need to patrol. I’ll see you later. Be careful,” Buffy said, and then walked away.

Reggie moved up next to him and put an arm across his shoulders as they both watched Buffy leave. “I’ve worked up an appetite,” he said. Xander’s heart began to hammer. “Wanna get some wings?”

Xander looked up into Reggie’s laughing face. “Ha, ha!” He jabbed his elbow into Reggie’s side. “You’re a laugh riot. Really. Too funny. But, yeah...” He caught the eye of a passing waitress. “...I could eat something.”

Three games, four plates of wings, and six beers later, Xander glanced up to see Spike sitting at their table, drinking Xander’s beer and filching a wing. “Hey!” he complained as he left Reggie to make his shot and walked over to the table. “Wow, you look like crap. What happened?”

Spike had a deep cut on his cheek, a black eye, and his shirt was torn and bloodstained.

“Found that nest,” he crowed, grinning.

“Who won?” Xander asked.

“Ha bloody ha,” Spike replied, stealing another wing and finishing the beer.

“Buffy’s looking for you,” Xander said, suddenly remembering. Spike just shrugged.

“Spike,” Reggie greeted the vampire after taking his shot. Xander watched jealously while they shook hands.

“You have to teach me one of those,” Xander said plaintively. “Reggie’s been giving me some tips to improve my game,” he told Spike.

Spike raised a disbelieving eyebrow as he swiped his finger through the hot sauce on the plate.

“Don’t mock,” Xander said. “Bet I could beat you,” he challenged.

“Yeah, right. Did he teach you how to talk a good game, or play one?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Xander said.

That night Xander dreamt of taking Spike home and tending his wounds. Once the vampire was doctored, Xander pressed him down onto the couch and crawled over him. They kissed, and then Xander moved down Spike’s body, licking and sucking his way to the blond’s swollen cock. He lapped at it, teasing the vampire until Spike dug his fingers into Xander’s hair and lifted his hips. “Xander, please!”

Xander took Spike into his mouth and sucked as he worked his own hips against the couch. Spike was grunting and whimpering and urging Xander on, “Yes, yes, please, so good....” Xander moaned around Spike, and the vampire bucked his hips. His penis twitched, and then filled Xander’s mouth. Xander swallowed, fingers gripping Spike’s hips as he humped the couch. He woke with Spike’s name echoing in his head, his own release cooling on his belly.

---

Xander’s crew was sent home early on Wednesday when they received a shipment of the wrong material. He used the unexpected free time to run some errands, and then called the Summers’ house to see if the girls wanted to join him for pizza. Dawn answered and told him that Buffy was working, Willow had a late class, and she was just on her way over to Janice’s to study. Xander was on his own.

He drummed his fingers on the table, and then paced the apartment. Spike had stopped by the Magic Box briefly on Sunday night before heading out to patrol with Buffy, but he had been on Xander’s mind almost constantly since he’d woken from that dream covered in his own spunk.

Xander finally grabbed his keys and jacket, automatically feeling for the stake hidden in the inside pocket, and left the apartment. During the drive across town and the subsequent walk through the cemetery, he tried not to think about what he was doing. Before he could knock on the crypt door, it opened and Spike wheeled his motorcycle out.

“Uh, hey, Spike,” Xander said, backing up to give Spike room to maneuver the bike.

“Harris,” Spike drawled, barely looking at him.

“Spike.”

Raised eyebrow. “Harris.”

“Um, Spike, I, uh, wondered if you wanted to get something to eat.”

Spike looked him over, sniffed. “You offerin’?”

Xander opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it. “Not to be the meal,” he clarified. “But to go with, and pay, yeah.”

Spike easily straddled the bike. “Got plans,” he said, and started it.

Xander swallowed hard. “Right.” God this was such a bad idea. He should have had a pizza delivered and stayed in with a good movie. Or reruns. Some Seven of Nine. Or possibly Tom Paris.

Spike sighed loud enough for Xander to hear it over the revving engine. “Wanna go?” he asked.

Xander’s heart sped up. Spike had asked him to go with him! Wherever it was he was going. “Um, where?” he asked tentatively.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Yes or no, Harris.”

Xander was nervous, but he really wanted to spend time with Spike. To disprove the vision, of course. “Yeah, all right.” He swallowed hard.

Spike glared at Xander. “If you’re goin’, get on.”

Xander choked. “Get on?”

“The bike, Harris. Get on the bike.”

Xander looked at the bike. “I, um, I’ve never ridden....”

“Get. On. Or I’m leaving you behind.”

Xander got on. Spike smirked at him over his shoulder. “Pick your feet up and hang on.”

Spike lifted his feet and the bike jumped forward. Xander grabbed for Spike as he was jerked backwards. The mental image of him sliding off the back of the bike caused him to take a death grip on the vampire’s duster. Spike slowed down as they approached the exit and glanced back over his shoulder at Xander.

“Slide your ass up, Harris, and quit wrinklin’ my duster.”

“What?” Xander was still unbalanced and couldn’t wrap his mind around what Spike was saying.

The blond reached back and grabbed Xander behind the knee, and then pulled him forward. He found himself plastered against Spike’s back and his heart started to pound. He hoped Spike thought it was fear, rather than arousal.

“Now hold on.”

“Huh?” Xander thought he might start hyperventilating.

Spike grabbed his hands and pulled Xander’s arms around his torso. “Hold on,” he repeated, and then peeled out of the cemetery.

“Eeep!” Xander curled his fingers into Spike’s t-shirt and held on tight. Spike’s driving scared the bejesus out of him, so he buried his face in the vampire’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if that was much better, as every movement of the bike seemed exaggerated and he began to feel nauseous. As soon as Spike pulled the bike to a stop, Xander dragged himself off it and bent over, head bowed and hands on his knees as he tried to settle his stomach.

“Sissy.”

“Bite me.” Xander glanced up when Spike unhooked a basket from the back of the bike. “What’s that?”

“My kitty,” Spike said, turning and walking away.

Xander didn’t understand that, but he straightened to follow Spike and got his first look at the seedy bar they were approaching. “What are we doing here?” he squeaked.

“Poker night.”

Xander jogged to catch up. “Poker?”

Spike pushed the door open and Xander followed him into the bar. He scurried to keep up with the vampire, sidestepping the bar’s other patrons, who looked to be all demons. Xander’s chest tightened when he briefly wondered whether any of them would take umbrage at his presence. Or were hungry.

When Spike paused at the bar to order a bottle, Xander sidled up to him and hissed angrily, “You brought me to a demon bar?”

“No one forced you,” Spike said without looking at him, but Xander’s attention had been captured by a small noise that seemed very out of place here.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

“Hear what?” Spike responded as he grabbed the bottle and continued towards the back of the bar.

“That....” Xander hurried after him. “I thought I heard a...” He broke off when he followed Spike into the back room and saw several demons sitting around the table, baskets of kittens at their feet. “...cat.”

Spike ignored him and took the last empty chair at the table, setting his mewing basket down.

“Hey, Spike,” Clem greeted the vampire, lifting his large hand in a wave.

“Clem,” Spike said, then nodded at the others.

“You’ve gotta stop bringing humans here, Spike,” a demon with a bad skin condition and tusks said. “At least it isn’t the Slayer, this time,” it groused.

“Kittens?” Xander finally managed to get out. “Y-you play for kittens?”

The tusked demon gave Spike an ‘I told you so’ look, and then continued shuffling the deck.

“Hey, Xander, right?” Clem said.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Clem,” Xander said politely, though his head was spinning. Spike had brought him to a demon poker game!

“Sorry,” Clem said, shaking his head, “it’s just that you humans all look alike to me.”

“Right, no problem,” Xander said, and then turned to Spike. “Kittens?”

“Shut it, Harris,” Spike said, his attention already on the cards before him. He pointed distractedly towards a chair along the wall. “Sit down.”

Xander swallowed hard. He was stuck in a demon bar with Spike, who was playing poker for kittens. Though technically, he wasn’t being forced to stay. He could always leave. By walking through the demons in the bar to the front door and, if he made it that far, then what? He grabbed the bottle Spike had bought and carried it over to the chair.

“Hey!” Spike complained absently as his bottle was carried off.

Xander ignored him while he twisted the cap off, then lifted the bottle to him in a mock-salute and took a swig.

Two hours later, Spike was on a roll. At one time he had eleven kittens in his basket. One of the kittens—all white except for a black mark on the tip of its tail—escaped the basket and came over to explore Xander’s boots. It flattened itself to the ground and pounced, batting at his shoelaces.

Xander had taken a couple more sips of the whiskey Spike had purchased, and then tossed the bottle back over to the vampire when he held his hand out for it. He was nervous, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that getting drunk in a bar full of demons was a good idea. He was, however, bored out of his skull. Therefore, the kitten’s stealthy approach was an occasion for celebration.

Soon, the kitten had fallen asleep and Xander slipped back into boredom. Studying the demons wasn’t as much fun as it might seem. He’d nearly dozed off when he suddenly jerked back to full alertness, unsure what had jolted him awake. He looked around the room from beneath lowered lashes to see if he could determine what had startled him. None of the demons were paying him any attention, and there didn’t seem to be any disagreements between them. His eyes fell on Spike, who was reaching into his basket for the last two remaining kittens.

“I’ll see you...” He placed one kitten in the pot sitting in the middle of the table. “...and raise you...” He stared at the lone kitten, and then glared in Xander’s direction. He looked innocently back at the vampire. “...one.”

Spike placed the last kitten in the pot, and then leaned back in his chair, waiting for the other two demons that still held cards to take their turns. Xander glanced down at the kitten, which had curled up on the top of his boot and fallen asleep in that precarious position.

Spike won that hand, and then played a couple more. After losing a hand, Spike plopped his basket on the table in front of him. “I’m out. Who wants to relieve me of my booty?”

“I’m out, too,” Clem said, tucking his last kitten into one of the oversized pockets of his jacket.

After Spike had turned his remaining kittens into cash, he stood and looked at Xander in disgust. “Here.” He tossed the basket to him, and then headed for the door.

“Whoa, wait!” Xander quickly snatched the sleeping kitten up and placed it inside the basket as he stood, latching it to keep the kitten safely inside while he hurried after Spike and Clem. He took a deep breath in relief when they stepped outside the bar without being accosted by a drunk—or hungry—demon.

“See ya on Sunday, Spike,” Clem said as the vampire walked over to his bike. “Bye, Xander.”

“Uh, bye.” Xander waved, and then watched Clem maneuver himself into his Beetle. “What’s Sunday?” he asked Spike.

The blond looked at him without answering. “Make sure the basket’s hooked on tight,” he said as he straddled the bike.

Xander fumbled with the basket while Spike started the bike and revved the engine. When the basket was firmly attached, he climbed on behind Spike, making sure he was sitting so close to the vampire that you couldn’t slip a piece of paper between them. Purely for safety considerations, of course. He wrapped his arms around Spike, resting his palms over a firm chest and stomach.

He kept his eyes open this time, tightening his grip when Spike rounded the corners, laughing as the wind whipped through his hair on the straight-aways, and squealing when Spike purposely zig-zagged the bike. When Spike rolled to a stop beside his car, Xander was breathless, due in equal parts to laughter, fear, excitement, danger, and arousal.

He climbed off the bike and staggered, his legs still feeling the vibration of the bike. Still giddy from the ride, he felt little anxiety when he said, “That was great! Except for the part where you tried to make me fall off.” Spike made an innocent face, and Xander scoffed. “Yeah, right. So, Friday?”

Spike studied him thoughtfully before looking away. “Yeah, all right.”

Xander managed to not pump his fist in the air. He watched as Spike unhooked the basket from the bike and shoved it into his arms. “I need the basket back,” he said. “You can bring it by on Sunday.” He revved the engine and pulled away with a squeal of the tires without looking back.

Xander’s mouth gaped as he looked between the basket and the vampire’s retreating back. Suddenly realizing he was standing on a deserted street after dark on the Hellmouth, Xander climbed into his car and locked the doors, then lifted the cover of the basket. The kitten stretched and blinked sleepily up at him.

He smiled, and reached in and petted the soft white fur. Spike had, sorta, invited him to stop by on Sunday, and he’d given him a gift. A kitten. Which would need food, and toys, and a litter box.... He stared at the kitten, now swatting at its own black-tipped tail, in horror. What was he going to do with a kitten?

Continued in Part Four

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