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Because it's after 2 am and I'm still awake. But I've finished my Post NFA Spander. Yes. I said FINISHED.

So here you go:

Title: Deserted
Setting: Post-Not Fade Away
Rating: R to NC-17, depending upon your sensibilities
Author notes: Unbeta’d, except by the grammar and spell check--I apologize in advance for all the fragments, but that’s just how this one seemed to work its way out.


He sniffs and feels his nose cringe at the assault. A dank, musty, oniony odor. That's when he knows he's alive. He couldn't possibly be this offended by his body odor if he were dead, right?

" 'bout time."

That voice. Sounds familiar. Too familiar. Oh god. Please lord, do not let him have lived through this only to have to deal with...

"Gonna open your eyes anytime soon Harris?"

Shit.

************

It had taken him the better part of three days to wrap his brain around it. Everyone gone. Everywhere gone. All gone. Gone. Such a profound meaning carried in such a small word.

There was nothing left of California. There was nothing left of most of the western portion of America. Adolescent memories involving palm trees, blue skies, and the sandy Pacific coast, even the oppressive LA smog, would now forever be just that--memories. Entirely unrelivable, completely denied to any future generations.

And yet...

he was still here.

Xander looked at him. Hair glinting in the firelight, a small heat from embers they'd dared stoke inside the cave, sipping on his dented metal flask. And that was another thing, where'd he get the liquor? It was like the fishes and the loaves, only in alcoholic form. Just plain weird.

There were a lot of things Xander didn't understand these days, but Spike was the most problematic.Continue reading )
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Written for: [livejournal.com profile] rubywisp
Pairing: Xander/Spike
Requirements: Smut, a mention of Tara. No chocolate, "whelp" or death.
Rating: NC-17
AN: This fic suprised me with where it went. So...I hope it all worked out okay.

Gratitude )
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Written for [livejournal.com profile] spikedluv
Pairing: Xander/Spike
Requirements: D/S. nipple ring, smut, no character death
Rating: NC-17
AN: Thank you to [livejournal.com profile] spikes_heart for the beta

Inconspicuous )
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Here's my Spander kiss meme as commanded by [livejournal.com profile] anniesj:

There was something unnerving about the intensity of Xander’s expression as he watched Spike during her talk to the potentials. Buffy made a mental note to have a private conversation with Xander later.

Later

Xander thundered down the stairs and kept his momentum all the way to Spike’s cot. Yanking the sleeping vamp up, he pinned him to the wall, forearm under Spike’s angled jaw.

“What is it about you?” Xander hissed.

Spike simply stared at him.

Xander pressed forward, tilting the vampire’s head back even farther, “Why do they always forgive you?” Harsh. Desperate.

Long minutes passed as Spike returned Xander’s fiery gaze inscrutably.

“Do you want to understand? No. No you don’t. You want to feel it.”

Hands came up behind Xander’s head and pulled him away from his captive. A quick twist and Xander was the one pinned to the wall.

“Is this what you want Harris?” Spikes’ face changed, fangs and ridges replacing blue eyes and razor cheeks as prominent features. He dipped his head to the man’s neck and grazed over the throbbing vein there. Xander groaned.

“Or is it this?”

Spike’s visage had changed back and searing blue focused on Xander’s flushed face. He brought his full, pallid lips to Xander’s hot, parted ones. Xander took in a great gasp of air as Spike’s lips brushed feather-light over his won and then let it out in a rush as Spike pressed in, mashing their lips together and pushing a darting tongue between them. Smoked alcohol invaded his mouth. Where had he gotten the booze? flashed through Xander’s brain just before the haze descended and Xander became an eager participant. He twirled his tongue with Spike’s, caressing the smooth silk of Spike’s inner cheek, running the tip of his tongue over and over the roof of his mouth, blunted nibbles on his lips, swirls of sensation building in his head and his groin.

“Or is it this?”

Whisper soft voice in his ear accompanied by rasping pressure over the straining bulge between his legs. Xander thrust forward into the firm, hand that rubbed languorously through the denim.

Spike pushed away and regarded Xander disdainfully. “It’s all you’ll ever believe me capable of, so why should I care, you git?”

Eyes wide, Xander raced out of the basement as quickly as he descended, the click of a lighter and creaking springs following him.
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