Chapter: Epilogue
Pairing: S/X, established relationship
Rating: PG13 - NC-17 Individual chapters will carry specific warnings.
Feedback & concrit: yes, please
Disclaimer: don't own them, never will, just playing with them
Spoilers: Primarily season 5, but anything from Season 1 on.
Summary: sequel to Nothing the Same , Books 1 - 3
WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX
Previous parts here
Epilogue
Looking out the window at the clouds below, Xander relaxed for the first time since they’d boarded. It wasn’t that he was afraid of flying, just that he’d never actually been on a plane before. He was pretty damn sure that Spike hadn’t ever been on a plane before either, but the vampire had been coolness personified, glancing around the cabin with a sneer as they boarded and ordering a Jack Daniels as soon as the plane lifted off.
Two hours into the flight, well out over the Pacific, Spike had fallen asleep, slouched comfortably in his seat, leaving Xander with nothing to do but watch the clouds below and the brilliant blue of the ocean underneath them.
He ran his hands appreciatively over the leather armrests and stretched out his long legs with a smile. Giles had insisted on upgrading their seats from economy to first class, brushing off the gift as nothing more than common sense.
“It’s a six-hour flight, Xander,” he’d pointed out. “I’m cranky and irritated after two hours in economy, and homicidal after four. Let’s not test Spike’s patience, shall we?” His eyes had crinkled at the corners as he’d said it, but Xander had appreciated the gift. While he knew Spike wouldn’t actually kill the person unlucky enough to be sitting next to him on a long flight, god knows what Spike would say to amuse himself. The mental image of the carnage that would follow the air marshals trying to arrest Spike in mid-air had erased any qualms about Giles spending too much money on them.
He leaned his chair back and closed his eyes, not quite able to shut off his thoughts and follow Spike’s example of sleeping. They’d put off this trip for months and, even now, he could hardly believe they’d finally made it and were leaving California behind for three whole weeks.
They’d defeated Glory six months ago now, and, as far as Tara, Willow, Giles and Ethan could tell, Dawn was just Dawn now, not a mystical Key. They’d tried every spell in their collective repertoire and none of them had been able to discover anything unusual about her. Either the energy of the Key had been absorbed undetectably into her human body, or the monks’ spell was just that good. They last test had been a trip to Disneyland for the Summers’ women. They hadn’t told Dawn, but the point to the trip had been to see if taking her away from the Hellmouth made any difference.
To everyone’s relief, it hadn’t.
Their small group were the only people who knew about the Key and they intended to keep it that way. There had been no sign of any remnants of the Knights of Byzantium, or Glory’s minions, and no one seemed interested in following Glory’s lead. Giles had told the Council that Glory was defeated, but that they had never figured out where the Key she was looking for had been hidden.
In the meantime, Dawn had settled back into normal life, visiting her friends, and complaining bitterly about having to attend summer school to make up for the classes she’d missed while they’d been hiding from Glory. It had been great to see her gradually putting the events of last spring behind her, shrugging off the strangeness like a bad dream and accepting that she was just Dawn, beloved sister and daughter, and all-around brat, as Spike sometimes reminded her.
It wasn’t Dawn or his job that had delayed their trip though. His promotion to foreman had meant he couldn’t take time off during their busiest season, and it had turned out to be a good thing because, in July, the town council had announced plans to rebuild the high school. Which was fine, except, being Sunnydale and the officials still being as blind stupid as ever, the town had originally planned to just bulldoze the old, bombed-out buildings and build the new school in the exact same spot.
Xander had learned about the plans when his boss had called a meeting of all the foremen to discuss the bid they were submitting for the project. One look at the proposed design and Xander knew they had to do something. They couldn’t let the school be built smack on top of the Hellmouth again. He hadn’t even waited until his shift ended, calling Sgt. Morgan and Giles with the news as soon as he left his boss’ office. Sgt. Morgan had sent the information up the chain of command through the former Initiative soldiers, pulling every string he could to get them to relocate the new school.
It was Joyce who came up with the idea of a citizens’ campaign, petitioning the new Mayor and the town council to create a memorial on the site. Ostensibly it was for the four acknowledged victims of the “accident” at Graduation. Quietly, they had agreed between them to find a way to include Scott Ubanya’s name. Scott’s body had been taken away before the police and fire department personnel arrived, too obviously a demon to stand official scrutiny. Scott had been a Rhythhken and the planned memorial included his name as well as that of the others who died at graduation, the unfamiliar symbols hidden within abstract design elements but perfectly readable to anyone familiar with the Rhythhken writing system.
They’d built the memorial directly over the Hellmouth using funds they’d raised privately from both the demon and human communities in town. What wasn’t on the official plans was that, beneath the base of the memorial, they’d constructed a solid reinforced concrete lid. It had been designed and constructed with input from Giles and others in the know. Both mundane and magical in nature, their hope had been that the construction would seal the Hellmouth forever.
The memorial itself was in the form of a small, circular patio and garden, with stone benches and a low wall where the names of the dead were inscribed. The patio was brick and they’d planted trees and flowers, so that it was a pleasant place to sit.
Willow, still in town for the summer, had suggested raising the money they needed by allowing people to purchase a tile with their name on it. The tiles were then used to pave the courtyard. Xander still wasn’t quite sure how it had happened but, instead of putting their own names on the tiles, a lot of people bought tiles and had the names of the dead inscribed. Tiles “In Loving Memory” outnumbered anything else by about ten to one.
Xander knew exactly where Jesse’s tile had been placed.
He’d been speechless when Willow showed it to him, running his fingers gently over the surface of the clay, the words inscribed so neatly “Jesse McNally, always remembered” had blurred. A tear had splashed on the tile beside his finger, and, looking up, he saw that Willow had tears spilling quietly down her cheeks.
The next day, for the first time, he’d taken her to Jesse’s grave in the small park, and they had spent a quiet afternoon there together, sitting side by side on the bench near the unmarked grave, Willow’s head on his shoulder and his arm around her, sharing memories of the dark-haired boy who had been their friend all through childhood. Something still broken between them had healed then. Xander hadn’t realized how much they needed that acknowledgement of Jesse, whose death had come so close to destroying their friendship, as the final step in healing the wounds between them.
Willow had decided to go back to Oxford, but between Tara, Buffy and himself, her ties to Sunnydale remained unbroken and he knew she’d be back. In the meantime, they had email.
Xander eased himself out of his seat without waking Spike. Between the three cokes and the bittersweet memories, he really needed a quick trip to the bathroom.
Washing his hands, he looked up at his reflection in the mirror and felt his excitement building again. He beamed at his reflection in the mirror. “We’re going to Hawaii,” he said quietly, still hardly able to believe it.
Dropping the paper towel in the trash, he opened the door. A hand covered his mouth and Spike crowded against him, forcing him back inside the tiny space. Intensely blue eyes sparkled wickedly at him as Spike shoved the door closed behind him and slid the latch closed.
“Spike?” he asked, confused.
Spike leered at him. “Heard about this club,” he said, and Xander blinked at him in horror.
“You don’t mean…”
Spike pounced, cutting him off in mid-sentence, shoving Xander back against the sink, his mouth devouring Xander’s aggressively, his tongue darting inside to explore as Xander responded passionately, his mouth opening beneath Spike’s.
As suddenly as he’d begun, Spike withdrew, spinning Xander around until he was pressed against the narrow counter, staring at himself in the mirror as his zipper was tugged down by invisible hands. He gasped as Spike pulled his half-erect cock out, closing his fist around it in a cool, tight grip as his other hand worked to yank his jeans down.
Xander couldn’t tear his eyes away from the reflection of himself in the mirror. There was something almost unbearably erotic about not being able to see the hands that were stroking his cock and pinching his nipples, bringing him quickly to full-blown arousal. He arced back into Spike wanting the confirmation from his other senses that Spike was actually there and this wasn’t just a fantasy. Spike’s chuckle in his ear as he gasped as a finger pressed inside him without warning was confirmation that he wasn’t making this up. Spike really was about to have sex with him in this tiny bathroom with a plane-load of people right outside the flimsy door.
A second finger joined the first and Xander groaned as he was stretched almost too quickly for comfort. Spike crooned reassuringly in his ear and Xander struggled to relax as the fingers inside him separated, stretching him and making him ready for Spike’s cock. His own erection was throbbing as Spike kept up a maddening rhythm, squeezing and pumping him just hard enough to drive him crazy but not hard enough or fast enough to bring him off.
His cock was leaking pre-come and jerking like a crazy thing in the mirror as Spike abruptly pulled his fingers out and Xander felt the head of Spike’s cock pressing against his stretched opening. He watched himself in the mirror, eyes dazed and heavy-lidded as Spike pushed inside with agonizing slowness. His harsh breathing was the only sound in the small room as he was penetrated, Spike’s hand still tormenting his cock as he worked Xander towards orgasm. Muscles trembling, Xander rested more and more of his weight on Spike, letting Spike hold him up as his head fell back and his eyes closed, lost in the almost unbearable pleasure of being stretched and filled.
Spike slid home and Xander whimpered as he stopped moving, his fist tightening around Xander’s erection, holding him back from the edge, until Xander was almost whimpering, needing Spike to finish it. Then Spike’s hips were moving, pulling out slowly and thrusting sharply in as his fist began pumping Xander hard and fast. Only Spike’s hand over his mouth kept Xander’s scream from escaping as he came hard, spurting the evidence of their activity all over the mirror.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike watched Xander as surfaced into the brilliant sunshine and shook his wet hair out of his eyes. His Consort practically glowed with happiness as he began wading towards shore through the waist-deep water and Spike smiled as his gaze followed the streams of water cascading down Xander’s broad chest and muscular frame. Xander’s skin was darkly tanned from hours in the Hawaiian sun, and he was a feast for the eyes in the Speedo that Spike had snuck into his bags, removing the boxer-style swimsuit Xander had intended to wear. His gaze turned predatory and he felt his cock stirring at the sight of his Consort’s slim waist and broad shoulders, wet strands of his dark hair curling around his neck, the ends still sending drops of water trailing down his torso as he reached the sun-baked white sand and walked over to join Spike on the beach towel.
“Had enough?” he asked as Xander neared. He didn’t enjoy swimming as much as Xander did, although he’d had fun the first day when he’d simply walked straight out into the ocean and kept going as the water closed over his head, freaking Xander out completely, as his boy temporarily forgot that Spike didn’t need to breathe.
Xander stood over him, dripping water onto him with a provoking smile and Spike growled and yanked him down beside him, rolling on top of his Consort’s larger frame and kissing him hard, rubbing his incipient erection against Xander’s thigh. Xander’s body was still relatively cool from the ocean and he tasted of salt and sunshine as he eagerly kissed back, sliding a hand down to Spike’s hips to pull him even closer, squirming beneath him until their cocks were aligned and they were suddenly rubbing against each other frantically, arousal building rapidly until they both came hard.
They lay there for a long moment afterwards, Xander breathing hard and Spike inhaling deeply, taking in the combined smells of sweat and sun and salt water and sex. Then Xander rolled them onto their sides, brown eyes sated and content as he ran his hand down Spike’s arm, his dark tan contrasting with Spike’s own resolutely pale skin. Despite hours spent lying in the sun watching Xander frolic in the water like a bloody fish, Spike hadn’t tanned. The Gem apparently interpreted sun tanning as an injury to be healed. He didn’t care - in fact it was probably better. Even the stupidest Court minion would know something was up if he returned to the Court looking like George Hamilton.
He didn’t expect trouble with the Court from this lengthy vacation. Unlike when he’d gone missing inside the Initiative, he’d laid the groundwork this time for a lengthy absence. The Lieutenants all knew that he was gone and when he would be back. They didn’t know why or where Spike was going, but that was because he’d told them it was none of their fucking business what he was doing. He grinned now, wondering what the Lieutenants were telling the Court. Bit tricky, covering for him without admitting they had no idea why Spike had left his Territory for several weeks. Their problem, not his.
With Glory gone and the word spread that Spike had been the one to defeat her, the Court minions had been falling all over themselves sucking up to Spike, wanting the reflected Glory of being part of his Court. He doubted any of them would risk final death or expulsion from the Court by questioning his absence.
They’d put off this trip several times because Xander had gotten involved in things that he wanted to see through and Spike had begun to fear that Xander would never find a time when he didn’t feel like he would be shirking his responsibilities to leave town. First his job, then the plans for the new high school. And Spike had understood - especially about the high school, he just hadn’t seen the necessity of fixing the school now. While he’d agreed absolutely that no fucking way was Dawn going to attend classes on top of the Hellmouth, but it wasn’t like she would be in high school for another year. Plenty of time before then to burn down the new building, he’d argued unsuccessfully.
Finally, with Buffy re-enrolled in fall classes, that damn memorial built, and Red safely back in England, Xander had put in for vacation time and here they were. It was a good thing that Xander hadn’t left any room for doubt that he was looking forward to becoming Spike’s Consort. They’d talked about it several times but having the Gem of Amara had eliminated Xander’s worry that becoming Spike’s Consort would endanger Spike. The ceremony and the transfer of some of his power to Xander wouldn’t matter now that he was invulnerable. Anyone trying to take advantage of the fact to take Spike down was in for one hell of a surprise.
He’d removed the Ring for the Consort ritual, not wanting to risk that the Ring’s magic would somehow screw up the ritual, but the weakness that had followed the ritual, the loss of strength and stamina that was expected and was one of the reason so few vampires ever took a consort - or survived the weeks after the ritual - had disappeared in a matter of days. He wasn’t quite back to full strength yet, but he was close. By the time they got home, he didn’t expect to have any problems when the word he’d taken a consort inevitably spread.
“Hey,” Xander’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked into the warm brown eyes smiling at him from so close he could feel Xander’s breath feathering against his face. Xander leaned closer and kissed him with slow, lingering passion. “Did I tell you?” he said, his smile turning impish. “I think we should come back here for our 100th anniversary.
Spike’s own lips turned up in a puckish grin. “Sounds like a plan, luv. Does that mean I get to pick the place we spend our 200th?”
“Seems fair,” Xander said judiciously.
Spike laughed and kissed him. Eternity with this man, his Consort, seemed just about enough time.
End