Past, Present
"I cannot believe I let you dress me up like a bloody Christmas tree."
"Be quiet. I can't arrange your tinsel if you keep waving your arms around."
Spike grimaced and tried to kick Xander in the ribs. The tinsel wrapped around his legs, however, severely inhibited his range of motion and he wobbled alarmingly on Wes's desk before Xander reached up to steady him. Xander peered up at Spike with a look of bemusement crinkling around the corner of his good eye. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to take photos of you dressed up like this and circulate them via inter-office mail."
Spike huffed and extended his arms to his sides again. "I look more like the Crucifixion than a happy holiday elf," he grumbled.
"You're the one who lost the bet," Xander said placidly, wrapping gold tinsel around Spike's torso. He tucked the end into the collar of Spike's duster, which looked surprisingly festive under the layer of shiny plastic, and retrieved a cardboard box from behind the desk. "Now hold still. I have to hang your balls."
Spike flailed at this announcement. "Balls? Are you serious, mate? I've already got enough balls for this season!"
"Oh, but Spike," Xander drawled, batting his eyelashes. "They're just not shiny enough."
"Why, you ..." Spike attempted to lunge at his tormentor, but the tinsel caught him again and as he lost his balance, Xander scrambled backwards, the box of ornaments clutched against his chest. Spike tumbled into the space that Xander had recently vacated in a puddle of tinsel, black leather and thrashing limbs. When Spike finished shaking himself out of his tumble, the tinsel was pooled around his ankles and he was staring at Xander like a cat about to pounce on its prey.
Xander's eye crinkled at the corner again, and this time his amusement made it to his mouth, which quirked in one corner and twitched, once, twice, before he broke into a broad grin. As Spike ruffled and tried to untie himself from the tinsel, glowering in Xander's direction the entire time, Xander started to crawl backwards, slowly but surely making a break for the corner of Wes's desk and protection. Spike grabbed the edge of the desk, hauled himself to his feet and attempted to stomp the tinsel to death. Two hefty footfalls later, the tinsel was knotted into his bootlaces, and Spike was on his back on the floor again.
Xander gave up. He took ten seconds to carefully slide the box of ornaments safely onto Wes's desk, lay back onto the floor and started laughing. Big belly laughs that rang over every surface in the office. Spike floundered briefly and ripped the tinsel from around his ankles. "I just," Xander laughed, and struggled up onto his elbows, peering around the desk at Spike. "I just can't believe you didn't use your hands earlier." He collapsed back
The vampire finished extracted himself from the shiny garland, crawled onto his hands and knees and growled. "No human whelp makes fun of me."
Xander gulped repeatedly and fought his way to a sitting position again. "May I remind you, again, that you were, in fact, the one who lost the bet."
Spike growled. "Ulp," said Xander, and then he was flat on his back again with a vampire sitting on his chest.
"What," said Spike, poking Xander in the chest. "What ... bloody ... bet?"
"If you don't remember, I'm not telling you! But it involved tinsel. For certain."
Spike leaned over and sniffed Xander's neck. With a practiced twitch, his features slid from smooth to bumpy and his eyes glinted gold. "I didn't eat you the first time Angel offered you to me. I could now," he whispered to Xander's ear.
"Ulp," said Xander again. Spike grinned, and Xander could feel the smile against his neck.
"Now. What bet did I lose?"
"I bet you that you would survive the apocalypse of the year back in Sunnydale."
"And?"
"And you're back. Ergo, I win."
"Why did I make that bloody bet?"
Xander mumbled something into Spike's hair. Spike growled. "TwobottlesofJackDaniels."
Spike jerked back from Xander's face. "You're holding me to a bet that I made while I was bloody pissed?"
"Ulp."
"I can't believe you, Harris. Taking advantage of a man in a weakened condition! That's just not right, mate." He jumped up and paced across Wes's office. He shot a glare over his shoulder at Xander, still collapsed on the floor, but his mouth quirked once at the corner, belying the intention of his words. He stopped suddenly, in the middle of the room and trained his gaze on Xander who was struggling to his feet with the help of Wes's desk. "Wait just one second, Harris. Why weren't you in my Sire's office dressin' me up like some Christmas fruit? You always enjoyed pissing him off as much as I did."
"Because Angel told me that if I felt the need to fly to L.A. from England just to participate in bizarre holiday mating rituals with his demented spawn, that was fine, but I could damn well do it somewhere no one would have to see it, like Wes's office." Xander straightened up and took a deep breath. "And then he growled at me, so I didn't stay to argue the point."
"Oh." Spike peered curiously at Xander, who was circling him as if he wasn't sure Spike wouldn't bite him. "What happened to the balls?"
"I think you broke them," Xander answered.
"Wait," Spike said again. "'Bizarre holiday mating ritual'?"
"Yeah, I know."
"No, really."
"Look up, Spike." Spike's neck jerked up uncertainly and his eyes bugged out a little bit at the sight of mistletoe hanging from the lighting fixture.
"I didn't make any bet, did I?"
Xander blushed and shoved his hands into his pockets, looking every bit the sixteen year old boy Angel had offered to Spike 7 years ago. Looked much younger than when Spike had seen him last, weary and in pain, before the world exploded in a sunny blaze before Spike's eyes. His mouth, serious just a moment ago, twisted into a grin and he peered at Spike from under thick eyelashes. "But you really thought you did, which leaves you looking like the dumbass, bizarre holiday mating ritual or not." Spike snorted.
Xander met his gaze and Spike felt suddenly naked. He struggled for something to say. "I'm ... I'm sorry about your bird, mate. She was a keeper."
"Yeah. Um. Thanks. I'm glad you're not dead. Not deader. Than you always are. Thanks." Xander glanced up at the mistletoe. Yep. Still there.
"So," Spike said. "Was the point of this visit simply to humiliate me?"
Xander frowned briefly, and then grinned. "Yep. Pretty much entirely."
"Then why's there mistletoe in Wes's office, when Wes himself has been in England for almost 2 months?"
There was nothing left to do but shut Spike up, so Xander kissed him. ed. note: why do people in my stories keep shutting other people up by kissing them? Is that a kink? I don't know. Softly. He hadn't come back here just to humiliate Spike, after all. Angel wasn't half off base with his "bizarre holiday mating rituals".
No one in England got drunk and hit each other, except when Faith and Buffy went out to the pub together and decided to drink whiskey. And that wasn't quite like his house in Sunnydale, either, because usually Faith ended up passed out in Giles' office and Buffy fell asleep in the bathroom. So - the point was, his holiday tradition wasn't a tradition anymore, because there wasn't anything to escape that a tradition of escapism would help.
So Xander came to Los Angeles and dressed Spike up like a Christmas tree, and the point was: he missed Spike. Not in a concrete sort of way, but when Faith got drunk and told him he should go talk to Spike, if he was just going to sit around talking about Spike all the time.
Xander came to L.A. Angel made mating ritual jokes. Spike believed he'd made a bet with Xander. And Xander kissed him. It was all very simple, and Spike seemed to be kissing him back, so Xander made a decision: he was going to quit living in the past. The past was past, and this was very, very present. A very nice present, indeed.
Spike stopped kissing him. Looked at him strangely.
"I just thought I'd leave the past in the past."
"Oh," said Spike and kissed Xander again. At that moment, the door to Wesley's office banged open, a large thud echoed in the corners and a voice made Spike and Xander leap apart, heads turning towards the door.
"Be it all fine and well that you two have decided to live for the present and the future, I, for one, plan to live entirely in the past, because in the past, I have not had the terrifying image of Spike kissing Xander - who, when I last saw him, was 17 - in my office." Wes took a deep breath, but before he could continue, Angel appeared behind him, spun him around, held a piece of mistletoe over Wes's head and kissed him.
Xander laughed. Spike looked disgusted. Wesley said, "Mmph" and threw his arms around Angel to keep from losing his balance.
"Happy Holidays, dead boy," Xander said.
"Merry Christmas, whelp."
And then Xander, like Wesley, occupied himself with kissing a vampire with a soul under a sprig of mistletoe.
There were worse place to live than the present.