Rating: M for Mature language and m/m sex
Also warning for violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters
or products named in this story
Spike is a Homicide detective trying
to stop a serial killer before he strikes
again. Xander is a psychic who offers
to help him.
Xander's kitchen and bar
Arriving at the Divine Creations furniture factory, Spike pulled
into the alley that ran along side the brick building. At the rear
corner he saw a steel door with a button buzzer and decided
this must be the entrance to the upstairs apartment.
Parking the Corvette, Spike made sure she was locked up tight
then took the heavy sacks of food and walked cautiously toward
the unmarked back door and rang the bell.
Almost immediately he heard the buzzing sound that signaled
the occupant was releasing the lock. Spike shifted his load to
one hand and stepped in. The entrance was a dim landing
that led to a dark, uncarpeted stairway. Spike looked up from the
bottom, not sure if he should go up or not.
"Hey, you made it. You pick up the food? Come on up."
Spike squinted into the darkness at the top of the stairs and saw a
ray of light. The beaming smile of the young man he had come to see
and apparently feed. With no more hesitation, Spike returned the
smile and bounded up the stairs two at a time.
At the top, Xander took one of the sacks, peeked inside and led
the way through another door into a small comfortable studio apartment.
Spike looked all around as he followed.
There was one large open space. Most of it was living room, however
the far corner was the kitchen. The only thing separating the two was
a dark wood, decoratively carved island bar. The sides of the bar were
lion heads with their mouths open in a feriocious roar.
Spike knew, without having to be psychic, that this was Xander's
handiwork. It was simply too magnificient to be anything else.
The rest of the room was simple. Clean and uncluttered.
There were no childhood trophy's, no shelves of collectables.
Nothing that defined the resident, yet the lack of personal
stamp screamed Xander! louder than any pictures or
For all it's stark appearance it was suprisingly warm and welcoming.
"Nice place. You lived here long?"
Xander continued in his task of retrieving plates from the cupboard
and beer from the fridge. He sat everything down on the bar and
"About a year. Patrick. said I could stay here. It was just a storage
area and he let me fix it up anyway I wanted."
"It's nice. Comfortable. You make the bar?"
Xander had already piled his plate high and was in the process of digging
in when he nodded till he could swallow.
"Yup. It was one of my first pieces. I can do a lot better now, but
still, I was kind of proud of it. It was Patrick's idea to put it up here.
Heavy as hell though" Xander laughed at the memory. "It took four
of us to haul it up the stairs. Patrick says if I ever move out, it stays."
Spike hoped up on the bar chair, took two slices of pizza, and poured
his beer into the offered glass. There was one more question that had been
on his mind since the day at the diner.
"You live here alone?"
Xander looked a little surprised.
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
Spike looked away, wishing he hadn't brought up such a personal matter
but secretly delighted that the boy was alone.
"I just wondered. Didn't you say you had told Mabel that you had found
someone special? I just thought maybe........"
"Oh, that. I was maybe a little premature. Nothing set in stone."
Spike was enormously relieved. For some reason it bothered him
tremendously to think of Xander happily sitting here eating pizza
and wings with another man. It was a realization he tried his best
to block out.
"So how is the case going? Any new leads? Did you look into the
possibility that the case is connected to you and your partner?"
Spike wiped his mouth and took a big swallow of beer.
"No. I really don't see how it could be. We are still looking
into the victim's backgrounds and trying to find some common
ground. Besides, if this was about us, if this was someone
we arrested or someone with a grudge, hell, they know where
we are. Why not just come after us. What would it have to do
with these women."
Xander snatched the last wing just as Spike had started to reach
for it. He shoved it in his mouth in one bite and jumped up to go
to the fridge.
Spike smiled and nodded, waiting for Xander to finish his thought.
"That I don't know. But I am sure of one thing. As much as he hated
that woman, he didn't even know her. Also, even though she didn't
know him, she trusted him, so where does that leave us?"
Spike shook his head then looked up with a slight frown.
Xander sat back down with both beers, popped the top on his and
drank a third of it straight down.
"Of course, us. I'm working on this case too, aren't I? So here's
what I think. I got definate strong impressions from the last crime scene,
and I think I could do more if we went to the others. It would give me a
chance to compare the final moments of each of the other victims
and maybe locate that one thread that ties them together. Also,
I know it probably isn't possible, but if I could hold something that
belonged to the killer it would help a lot."
Spike pushed his plate back. He had watched Xander's face the whole
time he had been speaking and Spike marveled at his expression of pure
normalcy. Like he was discussing the weather or the price of fish at the
local wharf market. Fighting off the feeling that he should be sitting
here with a pair of alien deelyboppers on his head, Spike decided to
go with the flow and see where they washed up.
Besides, it gave them a chance to spend time together and that was
"O.k. How about tomorrow we go to the residence of the two previous
victims. You take a look around and we see what comes of it.
Afterwards we can have lunch and compare notes."
"Sounds like a plan."
Xander slammed down his second empty bottle and leaned back
rubbing his belly.
"Why don't you go on over an have a seat. I'll clean this up and be
Spike agreed and wandered over to the small cubby hole area of the
living room that held the television, a small stereo and a tall shelf of
CD's. Curiosity led him to examine the titles to see what sort of music
interested someone like Xander. He was surprised to find a wide variety.
Everything from the Four Tenors to Alison Krauss to books on tape.
Spike was finding everything about the boy facinating.
"Put something on."
Spike jumped. He hadn't noticed Xander approach and was startled to see
him so close that he could feel the warmth from the boy's body and smell the
wonderful aroma of clean and spice. Spike swayed, listing toward the attraction
of the man next to him, and stumbled.
At the last second he threw out his hands, gripping Xander's arms, and
caught himself as Xander wrapped an arm around his waist.
Spike blinked, flustered.
"Damn. Sorry. I guess the lack of sleep and two quick beers was
not a good combination. Maybe I better go home."
Xander continued to hold him close despite the fact that Spike had regained
his balance. Xander's voice was low, soft, in Spike's ear.
"Are you o.k. to drive? You want to stay here? I have plenty of room if
you want to sleep here with me tonight."
The voice and offer shot through Spike's body like a hot wave of lava.
He could literally feel the blood surge to his crotch and harden his
very agreeable cock.
The mental images of him and the strong, confident, young man in bed
together, rolling, stripped naked, sucking, humping, touching...........
"Spike? I said the couch folds out. I have plenty of space."
Spike shook his head to clear his rambling brain.
"Maybe I just need to sit for a bit. Could you fix some coffee?"
He nodded cheerfully and went to the kitchen as Spike kicked off his
shoes and put up his feet. By the time he returned, Xander found his
guest sound asleep.
Tossing a sofa throw over him, Xander kissed the top of Spike's
head and whispered quietly.
"You can't come into my bed until you say the words Spike. Those two
Xander turned out the lights and went to bed with a smile on his lips and
a peace in his heart.