Banner by the marvellous suki_blue. Thank you, hon!
Title: Unfinished Business, Part 8
Summary: What if the amulet was delivered to Xander instead of Angel?
Rating: PG for now, possibly heading for R or, you never know, NC-17
Word count: 373
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and all companies associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They are not mine. I just have more fun with them.
Beta: snowpuppies, only the best bouncer in the world, the best friend, and the originator of this bunny. So, not just a pretty face. *g*
Thanks tons to the lovely suki_blue for giving it a final check. *smooch*
Posted to: My journal and bloodclaim
“He went thataway.” The super pointed down.
Xander kept moving, praying that Spike’s descent had stopped short of the basement. He’d been there once, and wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance. Fine for storing crap that wouldn’t fit in his apartment, but a lousy party place. But since there was no stopping point between the ground floor and the basement, better to find him there than the alternative...
He conjured up a vision of Spike stuck between floors and snickered. Where, exactly, would he be stuck? At the waist, upper half yelling and arm-waving while the lower half kicked its legs? Tantrum, much? Shaking his head to dispel the image, he jumped down the last few stairs.
Spike was curled up in the only warmish corner of the basement, eyes half-closed, soaking up the heat of the boiler. His eyes snapped open at Xander’s approach and he stretched out, so cat-like that Xander almost scratched him behind his ears.
Not that he’d been worried. Or really wanted the promised snog. Nope, not him. The occasional kissy-face with another guy did not make for a gay Xander. Right? He worked in construction, for crying out loud! There was a law or something.
“So, Unclothed One, did the elevator to Hell stop here?”
“Not funny, nit.”
“What happened? Is there a shower down here I entirely fail to see?”
“Didn’t slip down on purpose, did I? Something pulled on my legs.” Spike looked around suspiciously, eyes narrowed.
“Yeah, right. Unseen forces do that every time a ghostly vampire turns up in my kitchen, makes me lie to my boss, takes off his clothes, disappears through the floor, and… Actually, that’s never happened before. Congratulations on a first.”
“If you’ve finished churning over that pickled walnut you fondly call your brain, can we go back upstairs now?”
Taken aback by the plaintive tone, Xander took off his shirt and slung it over Spike’s shoulders then buttoned it, hiding the impressive crown jewels.
Spike raked his eyes over Xander’s bared chest and leered. “Manual labour’s doing you good, boy. I’ve always liked firm pecs.”
“Uh uh, no smooching here. Where’s the candlelight dinner? And, boy, are you stinky. Soap and mouthwash are so underrated.”
“So’s Johnny Rotten, but you don’t hear me complaining.”