Protective Custody (1/20)COMPLETE

(Disclaimer: We own nothing. Joss owns all. You know the drill.)

The omelettes Xander had made for dinner hadn't been half bad. No, they were actually quite good. Spike had been surprised that the boy knew his way around the kitchen. In Sunnydale, the only cooking anyone saw out of him was Dominoes Pizza and Stan's Donuts.

Now he sat on the couch staring at the telly. They'd argued over what to watch. He'd wanted old reruns of Melrose Place, and Xander kept insisting on some awful science fiction. Spike had won that round and was happily watching the soap, but his satisfaction was short-lived. Xander had control of the bloody remote.

An ad break came on. Spike was ready to snarl at Xander not to even think of skimming channels in the direction of the sci-fi show when pain unexpectedly wracked his stomach. His gut twisted into knots, and he had difficulty breathing. Taking shallow breaths he tried to sit up straighter.

Xander absentmindedly watched the television, trying to figure out what to do with his unwelcome guest. From what Willow had said it seemed that he was stuck with Spike for the near future at least which sucked in ways the he was sure he was about to find out. He turned to tell Spike to at least let him watch Star Trek on the break but he swallowed his words. Spike seemed to be having some kind of trouble.

“Spike? You okay there?” He moved to sit next to Spike and leaned forward to catch his eye. “What’s wrong?”

"Something's bloody sawing me in half..." he took a few shallow breaths, hoping it would go away. "Stomach." The waves ripped through him again, causing him to clutch his stomach and bend over, perplexed and looking at Xander for answers.

“Erm…maybe you ate too much?” Xander suggested, reaching out and placing a hand on Spike’s back. “Does it come and go? Cause if it does then it’d be cramps.” The hand on Spike’s back started rubbing in soothing circles. He’d spent enough of his time around girls to know that cramps hurt like hell. He also knew how to make it a bit better. “I could get you a hot water bottle. Willow says the heat helps a lot.”

"Ate too much... ate too much?" Spike snarled, now that the pain receded slightly. "You're the one who fed me, yeah? Are you trying to kill me?"

The hand stopped rubbing as Xander glared at Spike. “Me?! You’re the one who ate every single chocolate! And most of the omelette too! How the hell was I supposed to know that you’d be a greedy bastard?”

"You forced the chocolates on me... and those rude snacks, the twinkies. Don't try to put this on me." He took some more shallow breaths and felt a sheen of sweat cover his forehead. "I don't think I'll be eating after this."

And then it struck, another bout of pain and nausea. Instinctively, he gripped Xander's arm, his fingers biting deep into the boy's flesh. A groan slipped out of his mouth, unmanning him yet again.

Loosening his hold, he didn't look at Xander. He just held his stomach, anticipating another gutting. Next time, he wouldn't make a sound. Even if it bloody killed him.

Xander relented when he heard Spike groan in pain. “Yeah, yeah, held a gun to your head while you ate them. I’ll go get you the bottle ‘kay?” He asked and ran to get the hot water bottle and fill it with water. “I’ll be back in a minute!”

"Whatever, yeah..." He'd agree to whatever Xander wanted right now. This was ridiculous. "It's not for me. This being human, business," he announced to no one in particular. "I had a stomach lined with iron, now its..." He screwed his eyes shut, and tried to rider the next wave. "If you're going to do something, Harris... do it now."

“I’m coming, hold your horses!” Xander yelled from the kitchen, waiting impatiently for the kettle to boil.

Two minutes later he was back, sitting next to Spike and offering the hot water bottle.

“Just put it against your stomach, where it hurts.” He advised, his hand automatically resuming its petting. By the time he realised he was once again soothing Spike he didn’t want to move his hand. The guy looked so wretched…

Pressing the heat into his stomach, Spike was silent for a long time. The heat penetrated and seemed to sooth, as did the movement of Xander's hand. Otherwise, the boy would have been flat on his ass by now. "It's miserable being a human. I want my money back."

“Don’t we all.” Xander whispered, fighting the urge to touch his patch. Taking a deep breath he directed his mind to the subject at hand. Spike would need to sleep and in the state he was in, the couch did not look like a good place. He looked at the blond appraisingly and frowned. Something was off… he placed his free hand on Spike’s forehead. “Oh great…You’re all hot and clammy.” He muttered, snatching his hand back. “You should probably get some sleep.”

"You try to sleep with me putting daggers through you," he answered belligerently. But he was tiring, and the pain had receded to manageable levels. "Alright. I'll sleep," his tone made it clear he was doing Xander a favour. "Do you have another pillow? Something without a big button in the middle?"
Xander didn’t want to do this…he really, really didn’t want to do it. “You can have my bed.” But oh, look, he did it anyway.

Spike lifted an eyebrow. He didn't want any favors. He already felt like a git, sitting here as helpless as a colt, whining about pain. But once he fully stretched out, his legs would hang off the end of the sofa and he'd never get any sleep. "You're going to tell me to go ahead and take the bed, knowing I can't get there, aren't you? I know that trick, Harris. Wasn't born yesterday."

Xander stared at Spike in disbelief.

“Fuck you Spike! I try to be nice and get along and you just have to make it sound like I’m a cruel bastard. Well you know what? Fine. Think whatever you want. I don’t care.” He yelled and stood there glaring at Spike. “Last chance, bleach-for-brains. Bed or couch.”

As much as he'd like to tell Xander to fuck off, he gave a meek nod. "Bed." He put his arm out, and waited for Xander lean down and support him. On the count of three, he got up, holding the hot water bottle like it was a lifeline. "Need to work on your bedside manners, yeah?" Needling Xander was one way to pass the time as they crossed the living room ever so slowly.

“Need to work on your human manners.” Xander countered, supporting Spike’s weight. “This would go much faster if I just carried you, you know.”

All sorts of rough denials died on his lips as it got harder and harder to take the next shuffling step. "If you ever tell anyone, I'll kill you. Even if you only tell in your dreams."

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll torture me by snarking me to death.” Xander muttered and leaned down, putting a hand behind Spike’s knees and another on his upper back. He straightened, holding Spike against his chest. “Okay, here we go.”

Xander walked as fast as he could towards the bed, proud of the steadiness of his walk. Just a few more steps to go…just as he reached the bed, Xander slipped on a sock and suddenly the bed was coming towards him way too fast.

His vampire reflexes and strength gone, there was nothing Spike could do to prevent the fall. As he reeled backwards, instinctively, he held onto Xander. His landing on the mattress might have been soft, but an "oomph" escaped him when the boy landed on top of him.

Almost every part of their bodies touched. In fact Xander was practically nestled between Spike's legs, and so far hadn't made a move to get off him.

Xander stared down at Spike, shocked into immobility. He could feel Spike’s body underneath his own, warm and alive, pressing against him.

"Aren't you taking things a bit too literally? I don't think this is what the PTB meant when they sad I'd be under, you, yeah?" The boy was obviously stunned. "Harris. The answer is no. I'm not sharing the bed."

“I didn’t! I mean I wasn’t! I mean I’ll go now.” Xander mumbled and scrambled off the bed, grabbing a pillow and running for the couch.

"Just shut the bloody light." Never mind that Xander already had on his way out. It was a bit of a struggle to right himself and get into the bed on his own, but there was a slight chance he deserved to be abandoned.

He'd thought he'd be awake for hours. That the stomach pain would return. Instead, he seemed to slip right into sleep.

Xander shifted restlessly on the couch, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. He kept trying to relax enough to sleep, but every time he was close, he would feel Spike’s body beneath his and snap right back to full awareness. He was not thinking of how good Spike felt under him. He was not. He kept tossing and turning until he was too tired to think of anything other than sleep and finally drifted off.

-----

It was dark and cool - and then it wasn't. Heat burned his skin, boiled his blood. Sweat drenched his body, and yet Spike still burned up. Pin pricks of pain stabbed his skin everywhere. He tried to fight it, to push it away, to stop the pain. "No... no more," he kicked out, punched...something wooden shattered...his hand hurt...but still the burn. "NO, NO MORE!" he yelled. "NO MORE!"

Xander was slammed out of a restless sleep when a scream pierced the silence of the apartment. He looked around, wondering why the hell he wasn't in his bed when another scream brought reality crashing back.

"Fuck. Spike!"

He ran to the bedroom, taking in the broken table and the thrashing blond on the bed.

"Spike! Spike wake up." He said, trying to grab a hold of Spike's arms. "Come on, Spike, it's just a nightmare, wake up!"

This was no good. Spike not only wouldn't wake up, the thrashing became more energetic and he started clawing at his neck.

"Spike! Wake up damnit!"

Seeing no other option, Xander climbed on the bed and grabbed Spike's arms, pinning them to his sides. He lay over Spike, putting most of his weight on him so that he wouldn't be able to move and tried again, speaking close to his ear. "Spike, wake up. You need to wake up now, okay? Just open your eyes. Open your eyes Spike!"

Spike fought it... fought the pain... the heat... struggling until something weighed him down. Something cool and calming, it was like standing under a waterfall. Letting it wash away the pain.

"Stay. Don't go." Spike managed to command as he clamped his arms around the new dream that would save him. The darkness slipped over him, putting out the painful flames. Leaving him with the peace he sought.

Xander sighed in relief when Spike finally calmed down and stayed still. He tried to shift a bit to climb off of Spike but the arms around his waist tightened every time he tried to move and the blond started muttering and moving.

"Let go Spike." He whispered, unwilling to wake him up now that he'd finally calmed down. A few aborted tries later he finally realised that the only way to get off Spike was to wake him up. He lifted his head high enough to look down on the sleeping blond and was struck by the tiredness he could still see on his face.

"I'll just close my eye for a bit, 'kay Spike?" He whispered "Then I'll move. I mean, what could possibly happen if I just rest my eye a bit?"

Hours later Xander opened his eye and focused on Spike's face. Why was Spike sleeping on the couch with him? He wondered and shifted a bit. His eye widened and he froze immediately as last night came tumbling back into his memory and a new fact made itself known.

Spike's hands had somehow managed to wriggle inside Xander's underwear and were now firmly cupping his ass. And his stupid, traitorous body seemed to like it!

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