Outside, Spike leaned against the door, banging his head back, welcoming the slight pain. He was a bloody idiot to think that he could shag the boy and just walk away. He saw the whelp every bleedin’ night at the Watcher’s house or at Buffy’s. He could hear Xander crying behind the door and hated himself for being the cause. Xander hadn’t cried since Anya left him and that had nearly killed the boy. Xander was not one to cry a lot and Spike knew he had broken the boy’s trust and ruined their potential friendship. He pushed away from the door and walked away from the building, heading home. On the way, he cursed himself.

"Bloody hell...bugger it all...ARGGGHHHH!" Spike screamed into the night. Birds in nearby trees fled in terror, squawking as they flew off. Fledgling vampires within the vicinity gave the enraged Master Vampire a wide berth, not wanting to cross his path. Spike stomped through the cemetery gates and through the grass, not caring if he desecrated the graves close to his crypt. He shoved the door open and went inside.

Xander washed his face and blew his nose. He looked horrible and nothing said pathetic like bruised, puffy eyes and a raw, red nose. He went back to his bedroom and looked at the bed, sighed and went into the front room. He grabbed the blanket and pillow that he used for guests and settled in on his couch. He stared at the ceiling for a long time...so long that he actually dozed off. He tossed and turned as he began to dream.

"Xanderrrrrrr...wake up, lover." Cool, smooth lips brushed his. He blinked, looking up into Spike’s blue eyes. He rubbed his eyes and pushed the vampire away. "Aw, don’t be like that, baby...I’ve come to kiss and make up." Spike crooned.

"I don’t think so, Fangl..." Xander began, but Spike grabbed him, pulled him close and kissed him roughly. Xander heard himself whimper and slowly surrendered to Spike’s seductive kiss. He opened his eyes and yelped as he saw golden eyes staring back at him from a ridged face. He zeroed in on the sharp fangs protruding from Spike’s mouth.

"You really are a nummy treat, luv." Spike grinned, a gruesome smile, and lunged for Xander’s throat. Xander screamed...and fell off the couch. He landed with a thud, his hand clutching his throat, his heart practically beating out of his chest.

"Jesus H. Christ!" He gasped, realizing that he had been dreaming that he had woken up to Spike’s lips on his. "Oh...God." He rubbed his face with his hands, sighing. He needed therapy...or something. Just when his heart was starting to beat normally, the phone rang loudly. He sighed and got up off the floor and lifted the receiver to his ear. "Hello, Xander’s House of Pain...oh, hi, Wills. No, no dominatrix...yeah, that would have been fun. Spike? No, he left. Went out for some violence, I guess...patrol must not have been enough." Xander closed his eyes, flinching, as he lied to his very best friend. "Yeah, I’ll tell him...Scooby meeting tomorrow at eight at the Magic Box. Do you want me to...yeah, I can bring snacks...soda, too, okay." He rolled his eyes. Donut Boy rides again. "Night, Wills. Yeah...sweet dreams to you, too." He said, offering the wish for sweet dreams to the dial tone. He hung up the phone and stared at it.

Spike paced around the crypt, wanting to go out and kill something. He had tried everything, even closing his eyes, to block the image of Xander’s hurt expression...he had those big brown eyes that just screamed kicked puppy and please don’t hurt me which made a person want to scoop him up and take him home. No wonder the boy was a bloody demon magnet, what demon in its right mind would turn down someone who looked so bloody innocent all the time? Xander’s self-deprecating humor only added to the allure and magnified the neon sign blinking above the boy’s head that read: Victim. With a growl, the vamp snatched up his duster and headed out. He had some demons to slaughter.

Xander was on autopilot the next morning. He did everything he normally did each day simply by memory. He got up, took a piss, got in the shower, got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his car keys. He was half-way to work before he realized where he was going.

"Hey, Harris!" Chad Turner, a broad-shouldered redhead called out as Xander passed by him. Xander gave him a tight smile before answering.

"Hey, Turner. Any progress?" He asked, hoping today would be fairly easy. He didn’t know if he could handle any more stress in his life.

"Almost done." The man grinned. "Anderson and Phillips have been here since five. Those guys are amazing. I got here at six-thirty and it’s going smoothly." The man pretended to zip his lips. "Don’t want to jinx us." He gave Xander a slap on the back before getting more supplies. Xander put on his hard hat and went to help Kelly Anderson and Nick Phillips with the scaffolding. He smiled more easily now, it looked like it was actually going to be a good day.

Spike hissed as he made it into his crypt, his body smoking. He growled to himself. This was going to be a bad day. He had been distracted by thoughts of Xander and how he had hurt the kid’s feelings and he had wandered almost too far from his crypt. He draped his duster over a chair and sat down in his recliner, fuming. This was all Xander’s fault, if the boy hadn’t looked and smelled so delicious, Spike wouldn’t feel so guilty about what happened. Bollocks, you wanker. You know right and well that you started the whole thing. Blaming the boy won’t change things. Spike growled in frustration and picked up an empty Jack Daniels bottle and heaved it at the wall. He heard the glass shatter on impact and his own words slapped him in the face. ‘Bloody hell! What are you, a girl? Girls throw things. Get up and fight me like a man.’

"Yeah, ‘cause that won’t make him self-conscious or anything, Spike." Spike sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know, ‘cause he was so bloody valuable to the rest of the Scooby gang...hell, I’m talking to myself now."

TBC...