Spike leaned back against one of the porch columns and lit a cigarette. He heard Xander close the door behind him and exhaled slowly. “That was pretty impressive back there, luv.”

Xander chuckled. “That’s me, plan guy.” He stared at Spike, watching the cigarette travel from his languidly elegant fingers to his full lips, seeing those cheekbones sharpen as the vampire sucked in deeply. Xander swallowed hard. “I’m jealous of your cigarette.”

“And all the things I do with it?” Spike asked, low in his throat. He flicked his tongue against the cigarette butt and then tossed it out into the yard, turning to face Xander. “So. What now?”

Xander rubbed his damp palms nervously against his thighs, finding leather not to be particularly absorbent. “Well, I know I said we were gonna come out here and…you know, and I said it because I want to, and I knew it would piss Buffy off, the idea of us humping in her rose bushes. But now,” he looked around the porch, his face a study of confusion, lust and teetering on the edge of freak-out. “How, I mean, where? What do we…?”

“C’mere, Xan,” Spike said, holding out his hand.

Xander took Spike’s hand and let himself be pulled forward until they were close, but not touching. They looked at each other for a long moment as Spike used his nose empathy to sort out the aromas of desire, vague unease and “woo-hoo! I’m gonna get laid!” emanating from Xander.

Spike cupped the back of Xander’s neck and leaned forward, pressing their lips together gently. He eased his tongue into Xander’s mouth, sighing ecstatically at the welcome heat and wetness. Ah, balmy 98.6 – there is no substitute. He slid his hand down from Xander’s neck until he gripped him by the upper arm and then spun them around, slamming Xander against the column.

Spike’s duster fell open and he pressed himself hard against Xander, their mouths moving frantically as their hands got into the act. Just as Xander was reaching around to grab Spike in a good, firm ass squeeze, the back door squeaked open.

Xander raised his head from Spike and turned to see Buffy glaring out at them from the kitchen. “Uh, Buffy?” Xander said. “When I said we were gonna sneak out to the back porch for a quickie? Really not kidding.” As she continued to stand there and stare, Xander added, “But I think we’ve discovered your kink.”

She narrowed her eyes further and bit out, “I was just coming to tell you that Angel and I found a few stakes and axes, and we were thinking about heading out to look for…

“Hey, Buffy, tell Angel that it’s okay for me to go with…oh, double-squee!” Dawn grinned, peering around Buffy’s shoulder and watching as Spike’s fingers made slow circles around Xander’s silk clad man nipples.

“I’m going to patrol,” Buffy said abruptly. “There has to be something for me to do other than stand around watching Spike and Xander’s smutty…ministrations.”

“Yeah,” Dawn nodded eagerly. “Spike is ministrating all over him!”

“Bit,” Spike said, firmly. “Bye. Now. Love ya, but – go. Take the Slayer with you…there you go, girls. Ta.” As the door closed, Spike turned back to Xander, feeling the hard body under his tremble as he pressed their erections together and tilted his head to nip at Xander’s warm, bronzed neck.

Xander threw back his head, gasping. “So, how are we gonna…?”

“Like this, luv,” Spike said, lifting up slightly to let his denim encased hardness drag against Xander’s leather bound one.

“Right here?” Xander squeaked. “Standing up?” he gulped.

“Standing up’s m’ specialty,” Spike grinned, feeling Xander’s heroically stalwart heart pound against him as they thrust together firmly. “In fact, standing up, clothes on – anybody feels like peeking out at us, it’ll look like we’re having sex, but they won’t believe what they’re seeing, ‘cause logistically it won’t make sense.”

“You’ve done this before,” Xander frowned at him. Realization dawned. “Eww…that time at the Bronze, on the balcony, when Buffy said you were getting a crick out of her back? Gross.” Xander pulled back slightly, disturbed, his excitement waning at the flood of…Spuffy images.

Spike sighed, pulling Xander back to him. “Pet, if you’re gonna get shirty and cut me off over all of our shared acquaintances I’ve shagged, well, we’re never gonna make this work. I’ve done and seen a lot in my unnaturally long life,” he said simply. “For instance, using chocolate body paint for rimming? Aesthetically unpleasant.”

Xander shrugged, taking that as a given. He smiled lopsidedly in apology, suddenly feeling virginal and foolish. “Promise you’re only thinking of me right now?”

Spike sniggered evilly and cupped Xander’s hips, rubbing against the resurrected hard-on Xander was sporting. “Trust me pet, nothing about this is bringing the Slayer to mind.”

***

“I don’t like this, Buffy,” Angel said, head lowered, hands on hips and feet apart in a ‘this is bullshit’ stance.

“I have to do this, Angel,” Buffy reminded him as she threw stakes, knives and spatulas into a tote bag. “It’s my job.”

“Well, it’s my job, too,” he said, stepping up behind her to rub her shoulders lightly. “Champion of the PTB, remember? But that doesn’t mean I agree with heading out blindly to confront something we have no knowledge of.”

He turned her around, looking at her earnestly. “Buffy, I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re everything I’ve ever imagined: the perfect, predestined, pedestaled woman. I can be the man you want, now. You wanna go dance at the Bronze?” He swallowed. “I’m there. And the prom? Just let me know, and I’ll air out my tux. Buffy and Angel 4-Eva, remember?”

“The prom?” Buffy asked, blinking at Angel. “Angel, that was like, five years…” she shook her head, chuckling. “That’s what I like about vampires – I get older, they stay the same age.”

“Buffy, I’m just trying to tell you that I love you and that it doesn’t matter that time has passed. Or that I have big-ass secrets I haven’t told you, or that I reconnected with Darla, and yeah, maybe I kind of loved her, and that I fell in love with Cordelia…or, oops. Anyway, I don’t want to lose you – you’re my life.”

“Life is bigger,” Buffy said resolutely to Angel, flushing with pleasure as she felt a speech coming on. “It’s bigger than you, and you are not me. The lengths that I will go to,” she sighed. “The distance in your eyes…” Angel stared at her, his forehead wrinkling like a Shar Pei. “Oh, no, I’ve said too much.”

“You haven’t said enough,” Willow interrupted. “Buffy, why are you speaking in lyrics? We’re in the middle of a possible apocalypse…”

Apocalypse?! Andrew mouthed at Giles.

Giles shrugged resignedly, removing his glasses for a thorough pre-Armageddon cleansing.

“…and you’re quoting REM?” Willow continued. “We never talk in song.” She considered. “Well, unless we’re inexplicably breaking into song, but that’s always accompanied by backing tracks. You’re just…pasting in possibly unfamiliar lyrics pointlessly and it’s distracting from the dialogue, or um, what you’re saying.”

Buffy frowned at Willow and thought about trying something from Life’s Rich Pageant, or maybe the new Outkast album, when the back door opened and Spike and Xander strolled in.

Spike smoked a cigarette with a self-satisfied smirk and Xander just vibrated with erotic giddiness.

Buffy looked at them sourly and sniped, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Spike said, blowing a cloud of smoke at her. He grinned as she wrinkled her nose in self-righteous non-smoker superiority. He lounged against the wall, taking Xander’s hand in his.

“Spike,” Angel said quietly.

“Yeah, Peaches?” Spike answered distractedly as Xander’s thumb made lazy patterns on the inside of his wrist.

“Spike…Will, you’re…happy. You’re loved.” Angel started toward him, staring at the post-orgasmic glow on Spike’s face.

“Well, yeah,” Spike said, nodding. “Thought we were pretty blatant about that.”

Tears filled Angel’s eyes as he reached to cup Spike’s cheek. “That’s all I ever wanted, you know,” Angel said, his voice breaking. “To see you, the most favored childe I ever kinda-sorta sired, find peace. It makes me feel so…complete.”

His eyes met the shocked look in Spike’s sapphiric gaze. “I’m happy for you…so perfectly happy…” Angel threw his head back, groaning. His head shot back up, the eyes wide and glittering with pure, evil venality.

“Oh, shit,” Xander said.

“What? What?” Andrew gasped, clutching at Willow.

Willow shook him off, scrambling for her jacket to search frantically in the pockets. “His heart just grew three sizes today and we’re about to get reacquainted with one pissed-off, psycho vampire.”

She found the Orb of Thessula she’d been digging for and turned to find Angel, er, Angelus, had set his sights on Buffy. “Slayer!” He said, his entire body language changing to ‘right bastard.’