Authors: cordelianne and reremouse
Warnings: Gestures, positions, things in common
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.
All tasty bite-size morsels of this story live here.
Spike could've had Xander at 'hello' if he'd bothered to say hello.
But instead, Spike chose to get right on with the action and Xander's really not in a position to complain.
Sweaty, sticky, sated, Xander's in a position that's going to give him a leg cramp soon but it's not a position he tends to associate with complaining.
"Uh," he says.
"Mmhm," Spike answers from the vicinity of Xander's neck.
Xander pats Spike's hair agreeably. Eventually, he gets around to asking: "What's the occasion?"
"End of the world," Spike says.
Spike squints at the clock like a man too proud for glasses. "'Bout an hour."
"Oh," Xander says and drops his head back to the pillow. "No hurry then."
"Got time for another round," Spike says helpfully.
Apparently, they have inappropriately timed sex in common.
In their line of work, as things to have in common go, it's pretty good.
As tardiness-causing things to explain post-apocalyptically go, it's less good. And Xander's prepared to acknowledge the advantages of vamp speed when Spike's out the door and down the block to get the motorcycle while Xander's still fumbling with his shoelaces.
It's the shoelace fumbling that gets in the way of the whole noticing of the next door neighbor standing in his doorway thing.
Fortunately, apocalypses don't leave much time for mincing the words. "Willow. Hey. Gotta go."
It also doesn't leave much time to worry about having a secret affair with the enemy exposed. He's grabbing his jacket when she says: "Wasn't that - ?"
And straightening his patch when she asks: "But isn't he - ?"
"Evil?" Xander hunts for his keys and finds them under the ficus. "Probably."
"And you and he - ?" She makes a vague gesture that could mean anything from 'take lemon in your tea' to 'fuck like rodents.'
Xander goes with the rodent interpretation. "Oh yeah."
"Um - congratulations but you haven't told - ?"
"Thanks." Xander kisses her on the forehead. "And Giles? Buffy? That'd be a big no."
"But has he - "
Xander puts an arm around her shoulder and steers her toward the door. "Told Angel? I'm gonna bet no."
"But isn't that - "
Xander pauses to lock the door. Because apocalypse or no apocalypse, a guy never knows. "Unethical?"
"Um - yes."
Somewhere, not too far away, the loudest motorcycle in London roars to life. "That is so not a question I can give you an unbiased answer to anymore. But I'm gonna go with no."
"But he's - "
Spike rounds the corner. Fast.
Xander doesn't wait for an answer.
He's got a motorcycle to catch.
The world's not going to save itself.