Title: Good Guy, Bad Guy: A Spike And Xander Adventure
Authors: cordelianne and reremouse
Warnings: Literary confusion, fraternizing with the enemy and mocking Angel.
Summary: In a post-Chosen, post-NFA, non-comic canon compliant world, Xander's working with the Council and Spike's working with Angel. Somehow they keep running into each other.
Xander’s no Renee Zellweger.
Ignoring the complete lack of physical similarity and that she’s a girl, Xander wouldn’t say that Spike had him at ‘hello.’
Of course, Spike might have had him at ‘hello’ if he’d bothered to say ‘hello,’ but he hadn’t. In fact, Xander doesn’t remember either of them saying ‘hello’.
Or much of anything actually.
Well, that’s not exactly true. Xander had tried to ask Spike about the gash across his face and the torn shirt but Spike had made it clear with a sharp look and some cunningly distracting moves that Xander was treading on shaky ground.
And Xander went with the distraction because he didn’t want to talk about the blood crusted into his jeans and why he has a knife strapped to his ankle.
Fortunately Spike was more interested in getting Xander out of his jeans.
He likes to think they were too busy getting, well, busy to bother with the ‘hellos.’
Besides, the not talking works well for them.
Xander likes to keep his business and pleasure separate. Even if the thing that’s currently separating them happens to be a very blurry and increasingly confusing line.
At the moment, they’re way too close to people who wouldn’t approve of Xander fraternizing with the enemy.
But it’s hard to believe that Spike’s the enemy when he looks exactly like how Xander feels after battling evil. And has the same post-battle urges.
Boy does Xander hope Giles doesn’t decide to pop by Bath to see how things went. He’d rather not explain how he and Spike both ended up in close vicinity to Stonehenge and its wacky demony powers. Not that he knows the answer, it’s not like Spike is big on the sharing or Xander has the ability to read Spike’s mind – although that would be really cool.
He would be a sex god.
Of course it could drive him insane.
But it’s a risk he’s willing to take.
Spike rolls over and blinks at him. “Brooding’s not good for you. Look at what it’s done to Angel. Boring bugger.”
Xander snorts. Mocking Angel? Never not funny. “Nah, just wondering if there’s an evening Jane Austen walking tour.” He holds up the brochure on his nightstand. “Apparently it’s ‘like stepping into Jane Austen’s world.’ Did she write the one with Heathcliff?”
“That was a Bronte. Austen wrote the one with the brooding Darcy bloke.”
“Ahh.” Xander tosses the brochure back. “I like Colin Firth.”
Spike rolls his eyes. “That’s not a world you want to step into, so proper Giles is a wild child in comparison.” Spike stretches and yawns, as if to emphasize how boring it would be.
Xander shrugs and drops his head onto the pillow. If it so happens his head lands a few inches from Spike’s and he has to put his arm across Spike’s chest, he’s not complaining.
If Spike so happens to slide his arm under and around Xander’s shoulder, he doesn’t complain about that either.
Neither does Spike.
It’s possible that they’re doing something someone could define as cuddling.
But they don’t cuddle.
So they’re not.
It’s also possible Xander melted a bit – just a bit, more like a smidge really – when Spike wrapped his arm around Xander.
Not that he’d admit that.
So it didn’t happen.
“Have night tours, but only in the summer.” Spike’s finger traces over Xander’s arm.
Xander’s about to say, ‘And you know that how exactly?’ when he decides that he can’t be bothered. He’s not breaking their unspoken not sharing rule for something about some British chick author whose books Xander never even bothered to read in school. (His mental Willow is glaring at the rest of his brain for that thought.)
He goes with, “Guess we’ll have to find another way to occupy our nights,” instead.
Spike chuckles. It’s an evil laugh but the kind of evil laugh that shoots straight through Xander’s body and gets him interested again. “Can think of a few things.”
So can Xander.
It’s a good long night.