Winter Wonderland


He was whining. He, Xander Harris, business magnate, thirty-umpty-um years old and over umpty-um-million dollars to his name, not to mention the stock and assets he could cash in, was whining.

But this was Spike he was dealing with. When it came to Spike, and getting what he wanted out of Spike, he wasn't above, beyond, or too old to resort to -- or start by -- whining.

There wasn't a response, as he hadn't expected there to be. He moved a little and whined again. "Spiiiiiiiike!"

Possibly he'd whined too loudly. Possibly his mouth had been a bit too near someone's sensitive vampiric ear. Or possibly Spike really had been in the middle of a dream about tortoises and the shock of having one suddenly call him name had been too much. Whatever it was, Xander was now lying warm in bed, looking at his naked, bewildered, and mostly almost wide awake husb-vampire standing across the room looking around frantically as though someone had said "Angel found out you burned NIN over his CD collection" instead of it just being a well-meaning lover's whisper of his own name.

"Oh, good, you're awake." Xander grinned. "Get me my robe." He scooted back into the deepest burrow of the covers, because it was warm down there and his nose, exposed to the cruelty of the freezing air, was cold and needed warming.


Xander peeked out again, and saw Spike looking at him, still thoroughly bewildered and still thoroughly naked and still not-quite awake. God, he was adorable. Bed-hair. He needed to get photos of Spike's bed-hair on the web. He'd make a million dollars. Alternatively, Xander wanted to muss his hair. Maybe after Spike came back with the robe.

"Robe?" Xander repeated, nodding towards the bathroom.

Two blinks, and Spike was staring at him like he was insane. Awake now, in other words. "Robe? You woke me up, threw me out of bed, so I could fetch your robe?"

"I didn't throw you out of bed! I just said your name a couple times."

"And did what with your fingers?"

"That wasn't me. You must have been dreaming."

Spike shook his head. "I was dreaming about terrapins, so don't be telling me--" Spike broke off, and gave him another head-tilted, bewildered, what-have-I-woken-up-next-to-this-time look, as Xander laughed. Xander dropped his head onto his pillow, pulled the covers back up against the still cold air, and laughed until his stomach hurt.

He felt the mattress dip down, and rolled over fast, pushing Spike back off the bed. There was a thump as Xander shouted, "There's a toll! You have to bring my robe before you get back in bed!"

"What the fu-- Xander, what the bloody hell--"

Xander scooted over, across Spike's not-nearly-as-warm side of the bed, under the blankets, and peeked out from under the edge. "Robe."

Spike looked at him, with an almost frightened expression. Xander realised he probably looked a bit tortoise-like, and pulled his head back in…then out again. "Now, or you aren't getting back in bed."

"Oh, and like you'll be staying in bed if I bring your robe?"

"Only long enough to pee, then I'm coming back. But if I don't have my robe soon, someone is sleeping on a wet spot and it won't be me."


"Exactly. Robe." Xander didn't bother coming out from under the blankets to issue his final order. Either Spike would get it in response to his last threat, or nothing would. There was silence, then something heavy fell on top of him. It wasn't heavy enough to be a sexy naked person, so he figured it must be the robe. Xander reached out with one hand, felt around, and discovered terry cloth. He yanked it under the covers with him, and yelped when he realised the robe itself was cold.

He shoved it down to the foot of the bed and curled up to wait.

"Can I come back in, now?" Spike asked, plaintively.

"Do you have a cup of hot chocolate with you?" Xander asked, knowing full well he didn't, but hoping Spike would respond to the hint.

"Wha-- no. I haven't." Spike sighed patiently, before crawling onto the bed, and Xander. He put his face only inches away from Xander's, and said, through the heavy bedspread, "It's not that cold."

"It is!"


"Don't argue with me, mister I have no blood circulation but I get erections and how does that work, anyway and don't say a magic spell from Wesley because I'm not going there this early in the morning." Only he had, and he was thinking about Wesley, now, as well as a naked Spike.

Which was making Spike sniff loudly, and rub his hips against Xander's, through the blankets. "Oh yeah?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Thought you needed to pee." Spike added a nice, firm, groiny rub to his question.

"And that is so not helping."

"Well, I got you your robe. Why not put it on and go pee, then? Come back and we'll not think about Wesley, while we be naked."

"I'm waiting for the robe to get warm."

Another sigh. Then Spike sat back, straddling Xander's legs. "Want me to turn the air conditioning up, then?"

Xander sat up, letting the blankets fall despite how freezing it made him -- but Spike's gaze was almost immediately diverted to his cold nipples, so Xander figured it was worth it. "No. I want to go pee, then have a mug of hot chocolate, and in between those two I want to have loud, can't get out from under the covers because it's too cold, sex." He grabbed his robe, now warmed from the trapped body heat, and threw it on as he climbed quickly out of bed.

As he ran to the bathroom, he called back, "Tomorrow let's turn the heat way up, and have sex with popsicles."