Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Now, then, off with you!"

Giles's voice was muffled, but Xander could hear the sounds of indignant shooing from all the way inside the Magic Box.

"What gives?" he asked Anya.

She shrugged and straightened the "May Mugwort Madness!" button on her blouse. "Giles is often testy in a way that discourages customers. But when he uses that testiness to frighten away disarmingly fuzzy interlopers who aim to make the Magic Shop environment a less shopping and spending friendly space, I can't think of a reason to complain."

"Right," Xander said, backing away. He and Anya had been broken up for four months now, and though things were basically amicable between them, he felt like he'd started to lose his Anya-lingo-translation skills the more time they spent apart.

As soon as he reached the hall next to the training room, he could see Giles, leaning out the doorway and swatting at something in the alley outside.

"Whatcha got there, Giles?" Xander asked.

"This -- this thing -- won't leave!"

Xander took a look and then cleared his throat. "I hate to break it to you, but that's not so much a thing as it is an eensy kitten barely bigger than your fist." 

The kitten, apparently having already developed the skill to duck just beyond Giles's swatting hand, gave a tiny mew and licked its paw delicately.

"Well, whatever it is, it's been sneaking inside the Magic Box at night and causing havoc."

"That little guy?" Xander asked, pointing. "He doesn't look like he could do anything bad."

"Yes, well -- you haven't seen how quickly he can scamper. Or how dangerously he romps. Last night alone he destroyed several valuable baubles by batting them about, and made hay of our collection of witches' wigs when he curled up in them to sleep." Giles regarded the kitten, who paused to let out a tiny hiss in his direction, and sighed. "Would you take a look at the walls and bookcases, see if you can discover how it is that he's making his way indoors when we've locked everything up tight?"

"Sure thing," Xander said. "But you probably want to work on this problem from both ends." At Giles's inquisitive look, he clarified. "Not just try to block him out, but try to get him a new place to hang out, so he won't want to mess with the magic supplies. Sounds like he's just trying to find a home." 

"I hardly think I'm responsible for finding it lodging," Giles argued.

"Look, you want it gone, right? Then find it another place to be."

"I can't imagine who would take in such a naughty creature."

Xander sighed and stepped out into the alley. "Hey, buddy. C'mere. I won't hurt you."

The kitten paused in his washing and took a sniff in Xander's direction. It glanced up at Giles with what almost seemed like a kittenish scowl, and cautiously treaded towards Xander.

Xander stood still and didn't look at the kitten directly -- he remembered his grandmother telling him that cats didn't like that, that it made them feel threatened.

A tiny paw was held in the air for a second as the kitten decided if Xander was a friend or a foe. It was sorted quickly, as the kitten moved to twine around Xander's ankles, purring rapturously all the while. 

"Aww!" Xander said to the kitten as the kitten pounced on the lace of his sneaker. "He's great! You can tell he's going to be a good mouser. He can be like the mascot for the Magic Box."

"I don't think so," Anya put in from where she peeked over Giles' shoulder. "I think I'm allergic to it."

"How do you know if you're allergic?" Xander asked. "I don't see your eyes watering, and you're not sneezing."

"Because it makes me feel itchy," Anya said, wrinkling her pretty nose.

"I can't condone taking it in here; not when it would do so much damage to the stock," Giles said. He and Anya nodded at one another, and Xander had a weird vision of the two of them lighting up a cigarette after finishing going over the store's accounting books.

Xander looked back at the kitten and couldn't help but grin as it meow-ed and rubbed against his shin. "Well, I have some time. I'll bring him by the animal shelter, see if they can take him until he gets adopted." 

"Yes, get it out of here, before it decides it wants to begin shedding its hair on my new skirt," Anya said brightly.

Xander rolled his eyes but said "Will do."

"You'll be back later for the meeting, I presume?" Giles asked.

Xander picked up the kitten, who immediately curled up in his arms. "Yeah, I should be. Anything special, or the regular kind of update?"

"Nothing of grave urgency."

"Though that could change," Anya put in. "That's the fun part of living life as a single gal on the Hellmouth." She smiled at Giles, who appeared flustered and took off his glasses to wipe the lenses.

"Yes, well...good luck with that creature." Giles and Anya closed the door, and Xander sighed.

"Let's get you going, okay?" Xander said to the kitten.

The kitten reached out and gently tapped his nose with its paw. 

* * *

It was a short walk to the animal shelter downtown -- really, it was a short walk anywhere in Sunnydale. But it took longer to get to the shelter than Xander anticipated, because he kept getting stopped by people who wanted to coo at or pet the kitten.

"Isn't he the best kitten ever?" one eight year old boy asked his mother before she told him not to talk to strangers, even ones holding adorable kittens.

"He's so soft," a pair of women marvelled as they gave the squirming kitten some pets while Xander obligingly held him still.

"Is that a ferret?" one slightly crazy looking guy asked. At that point the kitten was perched on Xander's shoulder, peeking around.

"No, it's a cat," Xander said, trying to manuever around Mr. Crazy.

"That's a good cat," the man said solemnly. "Don't go giving it away now."

"Right," Xander said, and hurried along. 

* * *

"What do you mean, you don't have any space?" Xander asked the woman at the shelter reception area.

"I'm really sorry, but lots of cats are having litters right now. There's just no room for kittens in the no-kill segment of the shelter," the woman said.

"No-kill?" Xander asked. The kitten made a little distressed sound, and Xander realized that he'd squeezed him too hard.

"I mean, the part of the shelter where we have animals that we'll hold until they get adopted, without euthanizing them," the woman explained. "We can only take so many in those spaces." Her eyes flickered over the kitten. "But if you really just want to get rid of it, then--"

"What? No way," Xander said. "I'm not going to consign this kitten to an untimely death! He's better off being an alley cat than being killed."

"If you put it back on the streets, it's going to be prey to any number of illnesses, and even if it manages to stay relatively healthy, feral cats only have a life span of three to five years. Please, sir, putting the kitten to sleep would be better than turning it back onto the streets."

Xander knew he should think before speaking. One of these days, he was going to try it. "Well, that's -- I'm not going to put this kitten to sleep. Because I'm going to be the one to take care of it." 

Even though Xander wasn't feeling too friendly towards the woman at the shelter when she kept suggesting that they put the kitten to sleep, he relented after she volunteered to help with some of the medical attention the kitten would need.

So after waiting for two hours, the veterinarian was able to squeeze in the kitten for his first round of shots "on the house", and Jackie, the receptionist, assured Xander that she would put in a good word so that the kitten could get fixed for half the regular rate as soon as he was old enough.

"Harris, first name 'I don't know yet'?" the veterinary nurse called out with a glance at her clipboard.

"That'd be me. I mean, him. I mean, us," Xander said as he got to his feet clutching the now-sleeping kitten.

"Doctor Reynolds can see you now," she said. She waved towards the hallway, and Xander followed. 

* * *

The vet got the kitten to open his mouth, gave him a couple of shots while Xander held him, and petted him until the kitten gave him a wary "don't-stick-me-with-a-needle-again" type purr.

"Aren't you a handsome guy," the vet told the kitten, grinning as the kitten grabbed his hand with two paws and attempted to bite him.

"Why, thank you," Xander said jokingly.

The vet laughed and straightened before giving Xander an amused look. He was a young-ish guy, or at least he didn't look really old to Xander. Somewhere between Xander-age and Giles-age, with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes.

"Well, now that you mention it," the vet said with a wink. He scribbled something on the chart. "You'll be coming back in a week for the next set of shots, right?"

"Right," Xander said. "Whenever you all can fit us in."

"Oh, I don't think we'll have a problem with that," the vet said. He took off his gloves and held out a hand; Xander shook it. "Tell Jackie to make sure that she schedules you and ... thought of a name yet?"

"Nope," Xander said. "I just decided I was keeping him, so I haven't come up with a good name." He cleared his throat. Apparently they were still shaking hands.

"Well, whatever you name him, tell Jackie to make sure I get to see you both when you come back."

"Well, thanks for all your help, Dr. Reynolds," Xander said when Dr. Reynolds didn't seem like he was going to let go.

Dr. Reynolds laughed and opened the door for Xander. "Please. Call me Mark." 

* * *

 By the time Xander was finished at the shelter, it was nearly time for the meeting. He hesitated as he left the building, wondering if he should drop the kitten off at home and be a little late to catch up with the others. But then he felt sort of bad leaving the little guy alone in a big apartment when he was so new and confused about what was going to happen to him.

So instead of heading homeward, he hefted the kitten in his cardboard carrier in the direction of the Magic Box. The evening sky was already darkening when he pushed open the door to the familiar chime of bells.

"Oh good, you're here," Giles said absently. Then he caught sight of the carrier in Xander's hand. "Good lord. You've brought it back."

"Brought what back?" Buffy asked.

"Oh my god, it's a cute little kitten!" Willow squealed when Xander put the box on the round meeting table. "You got a kitten!"

"He kind of got me," Xander said.

"Isn't she a sweetie," Tara exclaimed, gently putting her hand through the carrier's front opening and smiling as the kitten licked her finger.

"It's a he," Xander corrected her. "Not a girl. Very much the fluffy man-cat."

"What's his name?" Buffy asked. "Oh, you could call him 'Buster'."

"He doesn't look like a Buster," Willow said. Her forehead furrowed. "Oh! You could name him Captain McKitty!"

"Xander, what on earth are you thinking, bringing the creature back here?" Giles interrupted the naming process.

"It'll get loose, and try to crawl up our bodies!" Anya pointed out.

Xander held up a hand to forestall any more name suggestions or objections, and very quickly explained that he and the kitten were only making a stop here for the meeting. "After that, he'll be coming home with me," he concluded.

"You know, I never thought of you as a cat person," Buffy said, reaching in to pet the kitten.

"What kind of person did you think of me as?" Xander asked.

Buffy tilted her head to the side. "I don't know. Maybe more of an iguana-man." 

"All right then, children, let's get this over with," Spike announced as he banged into the shop.

"Well, we would get it over with! If you would, you know, show up on time," Willow said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Here now, aren't I?" He pulled up a chair at the table, and flung himself into the seat.

"Yes, well. We need to switch our current scheduling of patrol in the various cemetaries in town," Giles said. "There has been a marked drop in slays lately, which is worrisome."

"Also, dull," Buffy put in. "If I'm going to be out there with my stake and crossbow, the least the vampires can do is show up."

"Indeed. So beginning tonight, we'll change the rotation--"

"Hello. What's this, then?" Spike asked with interest, poking at the cardboard carrier.

"Oh, no you don't," Buffy said. She turned to Xander. "Tell Spike to keep his mitts off your kitten, or it'll end up the dinner of any demon who can win it in a poker game."

"What?" Xander asked, horrified. He pulled the carrier towards him. 

"Hey," Spike objected. "I'm not going to lose it, because I happen to be on a lucky streak."

"No way," Xander said. "No kitten of mine is going to become your ticket to ill-gotten gains."

"Good use of 'ill-gotten gains'," Willow said, looking impressed.

"What, are you keeping it as a pet, then?" Spike asked.

"Yes," Xander said. "Today I saved him from certain death, and now he's mine."

Spike laughed helplessly.

"Make him leave," Xander said in a petulant voice to Giles.

"I'm going to make you all leave in a moment," Giles said with raised eyebrows. "We really should see if this new plan of patrolling in different spots reveals why there has been a dearth of vampires of late."

"I can't take the kitten on patrol," Xander said. "Is it okay if I head home, take a turn at patrol tomorrow night?"

"Oh!" Anya said. "Rupert, you and I could patrol since Xander is busy with that...thing."

"Oh, er...well..."

"Yeah, Giles," Buffy said. She struggled to keep the mischievous look off her face. "You probably need to keep your hand in. Patrolling!"

"So that leaves me with Buffy," Willow said. "And I guess Spike."

"No, I'll beg off this time." Spike got to his feet, still laughing. "I'll see droopy and his feline friend home instead."

Chapter Text

“You know, I am actually capable of getting myself home with a kitten in tow,” Xander grumbled to Spike for the third time.

“Oh, no. Not after you’ve just saved it from certain death. You’re probably all exhausted after such manly heroics. Wouldn’t do for both of you to get eaten on the way home.”

“Nothing has tried to eat me in at least a month,” Xander protested.

They walked in silence for a few more blocks.

“What’s it eat anyway?” Spike asked brusquely.

“For the last time, nothing is going to eat us, okay?” Xander exclaimed. He would have flung his hands up into the air, but instead he just settled for grasping the kitten’s carrier more carefully.

Spike snorted. “No. What are you planning on feeding your furry pal here?”

“Oh.” Xander shifted the carrier from one hand to the other. “I guess . . . cat food. Or . . . I think they eat tuna?”

Spike looked pointedly at Xander. “Have that all stocked up at home then?”

Xander gave a large sigh. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t thought all of this pet stuff through. He’d only had the kitten for a few hours, and Spike didn’t need to keep bugging him about it. But on the other hand, Spike was right in that kittens did need to eat, and something told him that two-day-old cold pizza in his fridge wasn’t going to do the job.

“Fine,” he said. “There’s a convenience store two blocks down. We’ll swing by there, I’ll pick up cat food, and then you can go bother someone else, okay?”

“Oh, no. You’ll need more than what they’ve got there. Litter box and such. I’ve got a better idea.” Spike grasped Xander’s arm and steered him in the opposite direction.

“Litter box? Well . . . but nothing else is going to be open now,” Xander pointed out as he tried to skid to a halt.

Spike didn’t bother waiting. “Just quit your whinging, will you? Follow me.”

Xander had to start going at a trot to keep up with Spike’s quick strides, and so he nearly jogged right past him when Spike stopped short. He looked around him and rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, and the warehouse district is such a better place to pick up kitty treats.”

Spike ignored him, first looking left and then right down the stretch of deserted street. Then he tugged Xander down an alley, through a shadowed doorway, and along the path of a winding passageway. It all happened so quickly that Xander barely had a moment to say “Hey!” indignantly more than twice.

“What the --” he said aloud when they suddenly emerged in what looked like a fluorescent-lit and well-stocked mega pet store.

“Welcome!” A slight blue-skinned demon that sported both gills and a red polyester vest greeted them with a cheery wave. “Now, here’s a flier that shows all of this week’s specials. And if you need anything, or it looks like we’re out of stock on a certain item, be sure to ask one of the clerks for help.”

Xander took the flier dumbly, standing still as the demon bounded off to greet another customer.

“Not all demons who play kitten poker eat their earnings,” Spike observed to no one in particular. He took off down a food aisle, leaving Xander to catch up with him.

* * *

Xander did his best not to gawk at the female vampire he saw whistling to her cockatoo. He tried not to stare at the Fyral who methodically showed toy after toy to his curious black lab. And he attempted not to shy away when a squat brown demon making snorting sounds ran past them to grab his pet rat before it made a scampering getaway.

When they’d found themselves in front of shelves and shelves of economy sized bags of kibble, Spike disappeared for a moment and came back with a huge cart. At this point it held an enormous bag of kitten food, a scratching pad, a covered cat box (“Needs his privacy, doesn’t he?” Spike had explained), two bags of litter, a battery-operated gurgling fountain of a water dish (“He’ll want fresh while you’re off laying bricks or some such all day,” Spike noted), three packets of plastic balls with jingle bells inside, and a book entitled You and Your New Kitten.

At some point amid all the rushing down the aisles, the kitten had scratched so furiously at the cardboard carrier that Xander had scooped him out. After he had gotten him cradled in his arms, the kitten watched everything around him with great interest, occasionally yawning or nosing at Xander’s skin affectionately.

On the whole it had been a normal shopping trip pet supplies. Well, other than the tall demon with the Cousin It style hair going on who had come over with his equally hairy pet so the pet could snarl at the kitten. The kitten quickly dug its claws into Xander’s arm, prompting him to yelp while it hissed and puffed out its tail. Xander was in the process of making a quick escape that involved backing up into a rack of gerbil balls when to his surprise Spike swaggered over to the demon and struck up a conversation. That is, if you could call it a conversation when most of the words seemed to be growls and guttural hacking. At the end of it, though, the demon and Spike had clapped one another on the shoulder, and Spike had come back to Xander shaking his head and laughing.

“What the hell was that all about?” Xander asked.

“Friend of a friend,” Spike said obliquely.

They made it to the registers without anything else weird happening.

“Hold up,” Spike said. He left Xander on line, returning a few minutes later with a plastic carrying case. It had metal gates on both ends, and was sized for an adult cat. “He’ll grow,” Spike said. “And you’ll need something better than what you’ve got there for when you need to tote him about again.”

“Thanks,” Xander said in surprise, taking the carrier from Spike and examining it. “Um, though I guess I shouldn’t be thanking you when I’m the one paying for all of this stuff.”

Spike gave him a look that clearly said Xander was an idiot. “Your kitten, innit?”

Xander felt like less of a dork for complaining about paying when the cashier (who seemed human, though at this point Xander was making no assumptions) rang up the purchases.

“Well, damn. Good thing the shelter is cutting me a break on all the medical stuff the kitten needs doing,” he muttered as he forked over the cash.

“How’d you manage that?” Spike asked.

“Long story.”

They stopped just before they got back to the alley so that Xander could transfer the kitten to his new container along with a small stuffed tiger that Spike had gotten for it. Xander didn’t ask when Spike had had the time to buy it, because he was pretty sure Spike had stolen it. Still. It was kind of . . . nice of Spike to do that. Sort of like the whole night had been. Which was just stranger than strange, and far more unexpected than suddenly becoming the proud owner of a fluffy kitten.

So Xander was more quiet than he would have been as he walked home, not really noticing that Spike was still tagging along after him once they were inside the apartment building.

“Um. You can probably go now,” he said at last. The bags had been loaded onto the counter, the litter box had been filled, and Xander had found bowls for the kitten’s food and water.

“Just wanted to make sure you set it all up right,” Spike said. He backed towards the door, glancing as the kitten poked its nose out of the now-open carrier. “Don’t forget, you’ll want to get him one of those toys -- the stick thing with the feather on the end -- because we forgot that. And what’s that thing they like to nibble on? Oh yeah, catnip. Buy him some of that too. And should probably buy him his own bed, because he might not want--”

“Spike.” Xander held up both hands. “That’s . . . okay, I’m thinking he’ll probably do just fine for one night without the entire line of imaginable cat products.”

“Yeah. All right.” Spike shoved his hands in his coat pockets and trudged out the door.

Xander stood at the counter for a moment before he rushed into the hall. He gasped and clutched at his chest over his heart when he almost ran into Spike standing right outside the door.

“What?” Spike asked. He held an unlit cigarette, so Xander guessed he was still in the hallway because he had been searching for his lighter.

“Just -- thanks,” Xander said. “For helping with everything, for taking me to the Demonic Pet Co. for all the supplies. You’ve been really . . . uh . . .”

Spike waved his hand in the air, cutting Xander off. He rubbed at his chin with his thumb. “Welcome,” he said gruffly.

They stood together awkwardly for a moment. Then a curious “mew?” from the barely-opened doorway had Xander cursing and just barely catching the kitten before he took off like a shot down the hall.

“No running away, buddy,” Xander told the kitten firmly. The kitten squinted and then swished his tail back and forth a few times. And when Xander looked up, Spike had gone.

Chapter Text

Xander woke up the next morning with a soft touch to his face. Someone was stroking his cheek.

"Ahn?" he asked. No, his head was all fuzzy and in need of coffee, because Anya hadn't been in his bed since they'd broken up. Well, okay, there were those two times afterwards, but not so much recently. She was working too late these days at The Magic Box for “we’re not really supposed to be doing this” type stuff. It was probably better that way, and definitely less confusing.

So not Anya. And no one else, because there was no feeling of drunkenness and impending doom hanging in his head. He’s probably dreamed it. But then he felt the tap-tapping again, this time accompanied by a trilled "Mrrreowwww?"

"Oh!" he said in surprise. The kitten, the one he’d found yesterday, the one he’d pretty much adopted.

He sat up all at once, making his head swim and knocking the kitten off his chest. The cat let out a surprised squawk as it was shunted away, rolled along the comforter, landed at the end of the bed and then began calmly licking his paw as though he had meant to do that all along.

"Hey buddy," Xander said. He reached down to pet the kitten. At the last minute it occurred to him he should be worried about getting a pawful of claws, but the kitten seemed to have forgotten about the incident entirely, and purred as Xander scritched behind his ears.

"Aren’t you a nice kitten? Got to figure out a name for you," Xander told him. "Something besides kitten."

puuuurrrrrrrr, went the kitten.

Xander yawned and headed to the bathroom. He closed the door, but apparently the kitten wasn't big on that idea, because he nosed it open two seconds later. He regarded Xander for a moment before squinting at him, and then batted around a large piece of lint.

"Oh, right! You’re probably bored. But you've got toys," Xander exclaimed. “Spike and I got them for you last night, and if I start another sentence with the words ‘Spike and I’, feel free to scratch me on the leg.” He quickly washed his hands and then made his way to the kitchen so he could pry the plastic balls loose of their packaging. But when he put one down in front of the kitten, the kitten tilted its head and did nothing. Then he walked away, tail held high in the air.

"Finicky," Xander said. He yawned again, and stumbled into the kitchen to start the coffee maker.

"Prraaooohhwww?" he heard. When he looked down, the kitten was looking right up at him. He sat on Xander's foot and yawned too.

"You still want something, huh?” The kitten looked at him pointedly. “Oh, breakfast," Xander said to him. "You must be hungry, right?" And sure enough, the cat dish was empty, so he filled it again. While he was at it, he changed the cat’s water, managing to slosh only a little of it when he set it down next to the food bowl.

When the coffee was ready, Xander took a mug over to the kitchen table where he sat down and paged through the newspaper. The kitten munched away at his food a few feet away, and it actually felt kind of cozy.

"You going to be okay here all day by yourself?" Xander asked the kitten. He stood up and peered around the living room, trying to think if he had anything really breakable or easily damaged. Luckily most of his collectible stuff was in the closet, and that was shut up nice and tight.

When he glanced back, the kitten wasn't at his bowl any longer, and that was all the warning Xander got before the kitten ran straight up to him and jumped onto his leg, claws clinging to his pajama pants.

"Whoa, whoa!" Xander yelled. He reached down to pry the kitten off of him, but the cat snapped its little jaws and nearly bit off a chunk of Xander’s hand. "Hey! Aren't you not supposed to bite the hand that feeds you?" Xander asked as he shook his leg out, trying to disengage the kitty.

But as he jiggled his leg in the air, the cat suddenly looked helpless and innocent, giving a sad little meow. Xander groaned when he realized that the kitten was stuck to the material. "Hang on," he sighed. When he'd gotten the claws out, the kitten pranced away happily.

Xander caught a glimpse of the kitchen clock and realized that he'd have to hurry if he didn't want to be late. The next fifteen minutes were so busy with showering and getting dressed that he nearly forgot about the kitten.

When he paused at his bedroom door to pick up his bag with his lunch and other stuff, the kitten was already curled up on top of it, fast asleep with his paw covering his nose. "Up, up," Xander said as he moved the kitten onto the carpet. "I need this. It's not yours," he added, when the kitten seemed inclined to hang on.

The kitten sniffed at him indignantly. Then he sniffed again. Then he sneezed.

"You're crazy," Xander said affectionately. He reached down and rubbed the kitten's cheeks before heading out the door.

* * *

When Xander's crew broke for lunch, he headed back to the trailer to file some paperwork. Just as he was finishing up, his cell phone rang.

"Hey Will. What's up?"

“I love that I have my own ring-tone,” she said. He could almost hear her bouncing in her seat.

“Well, the Blossom theme can’t help but remind me of you. All those times you forced me to watch the show are burned in my brain.”

“How's Captain McKitty?" she asked. "Did you buy him food? Is he eating the food? Sometimes they don't like the food you feed them, and that happened to us with Miss Kitty Fantastico. Until we figured out that she had a liver-aversion, which is really unusual, but then she's a sensitive cat. But I called because I was thinking you should get him one of those cat apartments. Not like a person apartment with a door and rooms, but those things with the levels and the poles so he can climb around and look down from above and lord it over you?"

"Odo," he corrected her automatically.

"Oh don't what?"

"Um...no, that's his name," Xander explained. "Not Captain McKitty; Odo." It had just come out of his mouth, but somehow it fit.

There was a pause. "But he's a grey and white fluffy kitty, not a gelatinous shape-shifter."

Xander laughed. "See, you said you weren't watching Deep Space Nine, but there's no possible way you could know about that without seeing the show."

"Xander! They were playing the re-runs on channel 21 every morning last semester. When I didn't have class until noon? And I didn't mean to watch it, but I was always over Tara's then while she was in Introduction to Sociology or Human Physiology, and it's the only station she could get in at the dorms. I had to watch something while I ate cereal!"

Xander closed the folder on his desk and rubbed his eyes. "How come everyone who watches Star Trek claims it's accidental?"

"I don't know, but I really -- Odo?"

"Odo," Xander confirmed. "One minute he's cute and snuggly, the next minute he's tearing across the room. Then he goes around claiming bags that aren’t his, refusing to play with his toys, and sitting on my feet until I feed him. He's definitely an Odo."

"Odo it is then," Willow replied. "Can I come visit both of you after you get home?"

"Sure thing. Six-thirty okay?"

"Six-thirty. I'll come bearing fish-flavored snacky treats. Oh, and pizza! The pizza is for you," she added.

"Kind of figured that, Will. See you then."

Chapter Text

“Hey buddy.” Xander closed the door then petted Odo. The kitten meowed as he rubbed against Xander’s leg like he was scratching his back. “Miss me?” Xander tossed his wallet and keys onto the table and stretched. “Who wants kibble? Not me, but I bet you do.”

Just then the phone rang. Xander dashed across the apartment and managed to grab it on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Harris? This is Jackie from the shelter, and I'm just calling to remind you of your cat's appointment with Dr. Reynolds this evening."

Xander swiveled around to look at the calendar on the wall. "You're kidding. It's been a week already? Seems like Odo was getting stuck with needles just yesterday."

The voice on the line laughed. "Time flies when you're having fun, huh? Yes, it's time for his follow-up shots, and a general check on his health. Oh, and if I can ask just to put in his file: how is he adapting? Is he behaving pretty well so far?"

Xander glanced nervously over at Odo just at the moment when the kitten overturned a plant stand and shot off with a shriek-y meow as the dirt and green rained around him. "Oh, yeah. He's...he's the best. Couldn't be better in the behavior department. And adapting like there's no tomorrow."

"Great! We'll see you tonight then?"

"You bet," he answered. "Me and my very rule-abiding cat will see you later."

He hung up the phone and called out, "I know someone who isn't getting his kitten treats if he keeps messing with the plants that Willow assured me were impossible to kill!"

He had just finished sweeping up the mess from the toppled plant when the phone rang again.

"Ah, Xander, hello," Giles said when he picked up. "I was calling to inquire whether you were planning on coming tonight to our meeting."

"Oh, the meeting! I was going to..." Xander dumped the dirt in the trash bin and leaned on the counter. "Sorry, just disposing of a plant that was tragically cut down in its prime. But sorry, about tonight, no can do. I totally forgot that I've got to bring Odo to the vet to get his check-up."

"Of course, you'll need to take care of that. Well, no matter. Things remain relatively calm of late. We'll be checking on some upcoming prophecies. I imagine Buffy can phone you tomorrow and provide you with an update of what transpired."

"Right, stuff that's foretold, I'm sure Buffy can -- hey! No, Odo, no!" Odo had jumped onto the counter and was headed for the faucet, intent on getting a drink of water straight from the source.

"Sorry," he said once he'd put the kitten on the floor and watched him high-tail it out the room.

Giles cleared his throat. "Perhaps while you're at the animal clinic, you might inquire as to whether Odo is unusually mischievous for a feline of his age."

"Giles, he's fine. He's a kitten. What I'd like to know is why everyone is expecting him to act like he's Miss Manners." Of course just then there was a crash coming from the bedroom, and Xander gripped the phone extra hard.

"Miss -- I beg your pardon? At any rate, though you can't attend the meeting, would you please make plans to check The Magic Box as you had said you would, for any potential points of entry? I'd rather not have any more surprise visits from unwelcome kittens. And much as you're enjoying your custody of this cat, I doubt you'll want to adopt two or three more should they find their way into the store."

Xander blinked and then laughed out loud. "Yeah, you're right. One Odo is plenty. If you want, I can actually swing by and take care of that after I go to the vet's."

"That would be most helpful. Thank you."

After wrapping up the conversation, Xander investigated the bedroom. It turned out that Odo had only knocked Xander's hard hat to the floor, and nothing had broken. He checked his watch. Might as well start getting ready for the appointment, especially since he had to find a way to get Odo into his carrier.

He set the carrier on the ground and tried to coax Odo inside.

"Ooooh, carrier," he said lamely. Odo peeked out at him from under the bed. "Bet there's some fun stuff in there! Come on, go ahead and get in, and I'll...give you lots of pets?"

Odo wriggled backwards until he was totally underneath the mattress.

"I'll give you some more of the plant to destroy," Xander offered.

Two kitten-eyes glowed at him, but Odo didn't budge.

"Don't you want to go on a little trip?" Xander asked. "Okay, that's probably a stupid question, considering the last time you were outside was when you were a cat of the streets."

No more gleaming cat-eyes. "You're just going to go to sleep, aren't you? As if that would work. Let me tell you, buddy, you're going to go to this appointment whether you like it or not."

Nothing.

"Oh!" Xander said suddenly as an idea struck him. He got to his feet and snuck out of the room. When he returned, he had in his hands Odo's little stuffed tiger that Spike had gotten for him. "Awww, Mister Tiger loves the carrier," Xander said loudly. "He wants to go to the vet and get his all-better shots, yes he does!" He made a show of petting the stuffed animal and then putting him inside the carrier along with a towel that Odo had appropriated for himself.

He sauntered out into the living room, but kept just outside the door, listening to find out what would happen next. When he heard a "Mew?" and then a rolling purr, he scurried back inside and closed the gate. "Ha!" he told Odo.

Odo gazed at him and then curled up with the tiger.

"Sheesh, you'd think it was no problem at all," Xander griped. "You couldn't have done that the first time?" He picked up the carrier and looked at his watch. "Wow, we're going to be super early. Might as well stop by The Magic Box on the way there, huh?"

Odo purred agreeably.

* * *

By the time they arrived at The Magic Box, Odo seemed totally fine with being in the carrier. Sure, he took a swipe at Xander every now and again when he could reach, but Xander decided that was for show. For the most part the kitten was alert and watching the people on the street with interest. Every once in a while when Xander would look inside to make sure he was okay, he caught Odo licking his stuffed toy as though he was cleaning it.

"Let's check out the alley first," Xander told Odo. A man in front of the store looked at Xander and raised his eyebrows. But Xander had gotten so used to talking to the kitten at home that he wasn't even going to try to stop himself just because one guy skulking around the front of the store looked at him funny.

"Maybe that's how you got in," Xander continued as he walked the length of the narrow corridor. "Wily manuevering, slipping in through the alley. Though I don't see any major holes. Guess we'll head inside, see if I can spot the problem on that end."

He tried the back door on a whim, though he was a little surprised that it opened. "Not so safe. But again, this is a guy who never locks up his apartment, so go figure." Odo yawned.

Two steps inside, and he was about to call out "Hey guys, it's your friendly neighborhood Xander," when he heard a soft but odd sound. Probably nothing. Still, the store was a kind of magnet for monsters -- he decided he'd better be as quiet as possible and try to surprise whatever it was. He could only hope it didn't have knives or claws or anything resembling higher intelligence.

As he kept getting further inside, the sound got louder. Kind of a squelching squishy sound, a sound like there was something wet and someone sliding across it, a noise like--

"Oh my god," Xander whispered. Without thinking, he slapped a hand on the front of the carrier so that Odo wouldn't see. There. Right in front of him. Giles and Anya making out right in the middle of the shop.

He managed not to stumble over his own feet as he backed away and hid in the training room.

"Oh, Rupert," he heard Anya sigh. Now there, that was all wrong. Anya only ever sighed his name. Okay, not so much anymore, since they'd broken up, and she was free to date anyone she wanted, except not without checking with him first and going through a standard approval process and filing everything in triplicate. And Giles? Giles wasn't supposed to make out with anyone else's former girlfriend. Giles was...Giles, and the whole thing was a huge, crazy mistake. He gasped as he realized what must be the awful truth. Possessed! They were so obviously possessed, and it was a spell that made people have to make out with lots of tongue. If only he could find the cure...

"Anya, I really don't think..." He could almost hear Giles pull the glasses off his face and start polishing. "As I said last time, this is hardly appropriate. Not when there is...this working relationship that we must confront."

"Last time?" Xander mouthed. Inside the carrier, Odo started to scratch at the towel, making the pleased growls he always made whenever he was pulling something apart.

"Well, you could always quit," Anya said reasonably.

"No, I don't think that's any sort of solution. This is my store, and I hardly think that I should leave it because of . . . whatever this is," Giles said, his voice rising.

"Fine. You want to hold back because we work together? That's just fine."

Giles sighed. "Very well."

A prolonged pause followed.

"You know, I should have known not to get involved with a librarian. Every since Sir Thomas Bodley, you've all been been rascals, gallivanting off to the Netherlands and breaking women's hearts!"

"Anya --"

"No. None of your fancy book-talk and cataloguing. If you need me, I'll be over there. Doing inventory."

This time the pause extended into an uncomfortable silence. Ah, Anya's stony silence. Xander knew it well. But that kind of thing was more relationshippy, and not so much with the magical force.

Giles and Anya? Almost, kinda, maybe in a non-mystical romantic relationship? Clutching Odo’s carrier, Xander left in a daze.

Chapter Text

Okay, so Giles and Anya probably weren’t crazed from a magic potion, or drawn together by a curse. They just wanted to lock lips. Lock lips with lots of enthusiasm, no thought for driving away rightfully appalled customers and zero considerations for the unannounced visits of ex-boyfriends. They had every right. Sure. No problem. The lousy finks.

Xander grumbled and muttered all the way to the shelter. At the corner, the crazy guy who a week before had thought the kitten was a ferret gave him a friendly wave, and seeing as how he was talking to himself and looking insane, Xander waved back.

He reached the shelter at last, pausing as he realized that most of the lights were turned low.

“Hey,” he called as he walked into the reception area. There were no people waiting, no one behind the counter. “Anyone here?”

“Be with you shortly,” a male voice called back.

Xander shrugged and hefted Odo’s carrier up onto the counter. Odo took a few sniffs around and then began to mew piteously.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. Just a couple more shots. Look at it this way: the sooner it starts, the sooner it’ll be over. It’s not like your very manhood has been compromised by your former librarian making time with your ex-demon ex, right?” Xander paused. “Okay, sure, your manhood will be compromised plenty when you get fixed, but that’s not for a few more weeks.”

Odo seemed unconvinced. He retreated to the other end of the case, still crying and dragging the stuffed tiger with him.

“They always seem to know when they’re coming in for an exam,” Dr. Reynolds said sympathetically as he walked into the waiting area. “Xander Harris, right? Hang on and let me lock up, then I’ll see you and your cat.”

“Odo,” Xander corrected without thinking.

“Oh no?” The vet frowned. “It’s not going to take me that long.”

“No. Odo. His name is Odo.” Xander flushed.

Dr. Reynolds smiled vaguely, as though he wasn’t sure what the hell Xander was talking about. Which, yeah, he probably wasn’t.

“Hope we’re not putting you out, making you stay late,” Xander ventured.

“Not at all,” Dr. Reynolds answered. “Let’s head back, and get started with this little guy.”

Once they were inside the examination room, Dr. Reynolds scrubbed up and put on plastic gloves while Xander lifted a squirming Odo out of his carrier. “Lately I’ve been taking more evening appointments, so this works out just fine for me.”

“Ah, the veterinary profession,” Xander observed. “It is a noble and lonely business.”

Dr. Reynolds laughed. “Noble, I don’t know. Mainly I’m trying to distract myself by upping my hours at the practice since my ex and I broke up a few months ago.”

“Yeah?” Xander stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Me too. With the breaking up thing, not the veterinary practice. Because that would be illegal. Though, my uncle is a taxidermist. But only as a hobby, so…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. It’s been hard.”

Dr. Reynolds’s eyes met his for a moment. For some reason Xander’s palms suddenly got a little sweaty. “So your relationship ended recently?”

“Yup. Two months.” Xander rocked on his heels a little. “Two long months. Not that it hasn’t been for the best. I’ve got more time, and I’m doing my own thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dr. Reynolds said with a sigh. “Absolutely for the best.” He readied a syringe, squirting a bit of liquid out of it.

“Definitely,” Xander added. “No question.”

Odo yowled when he got his shot, and looked wildly at Xander with a get me out of here! expression in his dilated eyes.

They both watched him scramble on the metal table for a moment, and then Dr. Reynolds said, “You know what? It’s not for the best at all. In fact, it’s been terrible.”

“And it just keeps right on getting worse!” Xander exclaimed. “Especially when you think you’re over it, only to walk in on your ex sucking face with a guy who’s supposed to be your friend.”

“Ouch!” Dr. Reynolds’s eyes widened. “What’s his name?”

“Giles,” Xander answered automatically. He blinked as he realized how that might have sounded. “I mean, his name --”

“My ex’s name is Steven,” Dr. Reynolds said quietly. He felt under Odo’s neck, and then shined a small flashlight into his mouth. “That’s awful, though, walking in on them like that. I can only imagine what that was like for you.” He peered into Odo’s ears. “And Sunnydale’s a small place, too. I’m sure I’ll run into Steven when he starts dating again.” He ran a hand over Odo’s back, and Odo gave a cautious purr in return. “Sorry you’re going through that with Giles.”

“Right, about that,” Xander began. “When I said ‘Giles--’”

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Dr. Reynolds said quickly at the same time. “Oh, sorry,” he added. “Finish what you were saying.”

“No, no, no,” Xander stammered. “You go right ahead.”

He smiled at Xander. “Just -- I ordered some theater tickets three months ago, when Steven and I were still -- and I just, you know. I wondered.”

“Theater tickets?” Xander repeated.

“I don’t usually ask out clients from the clinic. But then after you mentioned that story, I thought that since you’re going through a similar kind of a thing . . .” Dr. Reynolds laughed briefly. “Hey, forget I said anything.”

“No, that’s cool. That’d be . . . great,” Xander answered slowly. It was like his mind and lips were ahead of him. He was supposed to be making it clear that Anya was the ex, the very female ex, that Giles was the guy moving in on his ex and not his past anything, and that Xander himself was definitely, absolutely, positively not gay.

“Are you sure?” Dr. Reynolds asked him. “Because you don’t -- don’t feel pressured --”

Unbidden, the image of Anya smiling at Giles just after their kiss ended flashed into Xander’s mind. “No, I’d love to go,” Xander said more firmly. “Thanks for asking me.”

“Great,” Dr. Reynolds said, obviously relieved.

“Great,” Xander echoed. It was only because they’d bonded over break-up talk, he told himself. And handsome, nice guys like Dr. Reynolds weren’t supposed to feel down about their dateless status or going to theatrical events alone. Not that noticing that Dr. Reynolds was handsome meant anything at all. It was just an objective fact type thing.

The rest of the visit went by quickly as Dr. Reynolds finished up with Odo.

“So I’ll call you,” Dr. Reynolds offered.

“Right, um, I’ll give you my number. Or you already have it, because of the records, right, so I won’t be needing to do that. You’ll just phone me up, and we’ll do the theatrical thing.”

“Here’s my home number, just in case,” Dr. Reynolds added. He turned over a business card and wrote down the digits.

It wasn’t until Xander had Odo back in the carrier and was walking down the block that he said aloud, “Okay, what happened back there? Is that like a friendly-friend date, or a date-date? And what the hell is Dr. Reynolds’s first name again, because I can’t go to a play with him and call him ‘Dr. Reynolds’ all night long.”

Odo, apparently still sulky about the entire vet visit, turned his back to the front of the carrier, and went to sleep.

Chapter Text

“Theater tickets?” Willow asked, her eyebrows raised.

“You should have heard the conversation,” Xander said as he paced. “No way could I have said no. I mean, the guy practically had his heart stomped on by that Steven. Plus he thinks I’m gay for Giles.”

Willow and Tara exchanged a look. “So it’s a date, then,” Willow said cautiously.

“No, no, it’s all a big huge misunderstanding.” Xander stopped in the middle of the room. “A misunderstanding that’s led to a sympathy-driven theater companionship event. And maybe coffee afterwards.”

“But that play,” Tara put in. “It’s been impossible to get tickets to it. My Contemporary Drama class was going to go before the professor found it that it sold-out, and that was months ago.”

“And, I heard that the cheapest seats are a hundred dollars each,” Willow noted. “To me, that sounds like a date for sure. A fancy date.”

On the floor, Odo tried his best to get away while Miss Kitty Fantastico calmly sat on his head and cleaned his tail. And as Xander sank down onto the couch, he tried to remember why telling Willow and Tara about his not-date with Dr. Reynolds had seemed like such a good idea.

“I don’t know why we go through the hassle of having them hang out,” Xander said instead, pointing to Miss Kitty and Odo struggling on the floor. This was the second time that Tara and Willow had shown up with their cat in tow for their weekly movie night.

“Of course they should hang out!” Willow insisted as Miss Kitty chased a yowling Odo into the bathroom. “They’re practically cousins. And who knows, Odo may get some good tips from Miss Kitty.” There was a significant pause. “Behavioral tips.”

“Odo is plenty well behaved,” Xander said. He winced as a startled mreeeowww! came from the bathroom, followed by the unmistakable sound of the shower curtain being ripped from its rings.

Willow shot him a triumphant look.

“So, about that date to see the play,” Tara said quietly.

Xander groaned. “Sure, that would be a lot to spend on tickets randomly, but he already had the tickets because he bought one for him and Steven before they broke up. So in a way I’m just helping him save money. If anything, he sees me as a warm body to fill the seat next to him.”

Tara made a choking sound.

“What now?” Xander asked in exasperation.

“Warm body?” Tara asked. She appeared to be trying not to laugh.

“Willow, I don’t know how you got such a pervy girlfriend, but --” Xander stopped. “Mark, his name is Mark. Man, that’s been driving me crazy. Thank god I remembered before . . .” He let the sentence hang unfinished.

Willow looked at him with a completely innocent expression on her face.

“Fine,” Xander groused. “Before my date.” He stood and spread his arms. “I have a theater date with Dr. Mark Reynolds. A very gay date, in which we will sit next to each other in the near dark, smooshed into those seats that make you fight over the arm rest.”

“And maybe have coffee afterwards,” Tara offered with a small smile.

“It doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Willow said. “You’re just keeping options open. Making plans. Getting out after the very much-needed break-up with Anya. This will be good for you, Xander.”

“Let me get this not-so-straight. So it wasn’t just that you don’t like Anya, but that you want me to start grooving on men?” Xander asked.

“Well. Maybe not all men. But this one, he is a doctor,” Willow said with a grin. “Maybe if you marry one, my grandma will stop getting after me to find a gentleman in the medical profession.”

“How does me marrying Dr. Mark Reynolds get your grandma off your case? And do veterinarians even count?”

“Well.” Willow thrust her chin out slightly. “It’s sort of all in the family this way. And veterinarians completely count.”

Just as Xander opened his mouth to argue that point, Miss Kitty pranced out of the bathroom and made a beeline for Tara’s lap. Tara stroked her as Miss Kitty stretched and circled before settling down. When the cat stretched out one paw towards Xander, he absently reached out to scratch her behind her ears.

“Is he handsome?” Tara asked in a casual voice while Xander smoothed Miss Kitty’s ruffled fur.

“Oh, definitely,” Xander answered without a pause. “You shut up,” he said to Willow when she giggled.

All of a sudden Odo shot out of the bathroom in the direction of the door. A beat later, the doorbell rang.

“That’s weird,” Xander muttered as he got up to see who was there.

“Psychic kitty,” Willow observed as she moved to take Xander’s place on the couch.

“Well, maybe he is. And on that front, I win. Is your cat psychic? No, I didn’t think s-- Spike!” he finished. He glanced up and down the vampire standing in his door. “Hey, sorry if no one called or swung by the crypt, but I don’t think we’re going to patrol tonight. Dawn and Buffy are having a family night, complete with mud masks and wasabi peas, and we’re about to watch--”

“Didn’t come by about patrol. Found this,” Spike said brusquely. He reached back into the hall, and put a multi-level cat apartment just inside Xander’s apartment. “It’s for the kitten,” he added, as though there was no way Xander might figure this out himself.

Odo twined in and out of Spike’s legs, rubbing against his boots, before hopping up onto the cat apartment and batting at the fuzzy ball attached to the middle level.

“Wow. That's way fancier than the one I was thinking about buying him. Where did you find it?” Xander asked suspiciously.

“Where’d you think? At the dump,” Spike answered. “Not going to pay for some ridiculous bit of wood with carpet on it just for a cat.” He gave a short nod to Willow and Tara when they called out hellos. “Was by there, to look for things for myself, and I happened to see this. I only brought it because I figure the cat's right bored with you gone half of the time."

Xander reached out a hand and touched the top of the cat apartment. "This is...thank you...wow…at the dump, you said?"

Spike made a frustrated sound. "Well? Do you want it or not? Can just throw it into the dumpster on my way out if not. Mind you, I lugged it all the way over here for you, so the least you could do is say thanks.”

“No, I’ll take it, we'll take it,” Xander said just as Odo began to prick his paws against the carpeting, arching his back as he dug in. “And I thought I said thanks, but -- thanks.” He paused. “Just kind of wondering, with the dump factor. Maybe it got thrown away because it has fleas.”

“Fleas?” Willow scooped Miss Kitty off the floor, stopping the cat’s curious approach over to the potentially infested furniture. “Miss Kitty has never had fleas.”

“It doesn’t have any fleas,” Spike dismissed the concern with a roll of his eyes.

“Can you tell because of your vampire senses?” Tara asked with interest. When Xander glanced at her, he saw that there was something weird happening with the side of her mouth, almost as though it was twitching.

“Look, I can just toss it out if it's not good enough for you and the kitten prince,” Spike said irritably.

“No, no. It's a great kitty tower, seriously. And hey, I’ll treat it with some kind of spray or something to make sure there aren’t any fleas or ticks.” He grinned as Odo clawed onto the carpet to pull himself up from one level to the next, his tail puffed out to three times its usual size. “Wow, look at him. He really likes it.”

Odo preoww!-ed in agreement as he scratched at the sisal post and then squirmed around until he figured out how to climb down to the lower level.

Xander turned back to Spike. “Listen, again, thank you. That was really nice of you, and --”

“Right. I’m off.” Spike slammed the door as he left.

“Maybe we should go too,” Willow said. She gave the tower wide berth as she inched towards the door. “After all, I do have that early class tomorrow, and I should look over my notes a third time just in case--”

“You’re just worried about the flea factor,” Xander protested. “If it bugs you that much, I'll shut the thing up into my bedroom.” He faced Tara, appealing to her. “Come on, we haven’t even started the first movie.”

“Fleas,” Willow mouthed at Tara.

“I think we’re safe, sweetie. That tower doesn’t have anything wrong with it,” Tara said with a small smile.

“You actually think Spike can tell something like that, if there are fleas or not?” Willow asked her.

“Well, I don’t think Spike can sense fleas. But I can tell the kitty tower is brand new. There’s not the least bit of dirt on it, which is, you know, kind of funny for something that you’d find at a dump. And, um, there’s a tag still attached to the back of it, so...” She shrugged, and ducked her head down.

“Tara MacClay, girl detective,” Xander said with respect as he investigated the tower and turned up a tag. “Oh boy. This is totally new! It’s from that Demon PetCo Spike took me to the night I got Odo.”

Willow let go of Miss Kitty, and stood up to get a better look. “And look, there’s a ‘paid for’ sticker on the tag. So he really gave them the money for it instead of just stealing it.” She touched the tower. “That’s awfully nice of him. Almost too nice.” She frowned. “What’s he up to?”

“Beats me,” Xander said. “Guess he just likes cats. Or maybe just Odo.”

"Guess so," Tara said softly.

They watched as Odo let out a crowing meow, and triumphantly batted off Miss Kitty as she tried to join him on the top tier.

Chapter Text

As Xander put on his Willow-approved tie and checked his hair in the mirror, he kept muttering to himself, “Mark, Mark, Mark.”

Not that he was going to keeping saying Mark’s name all night long. But he figured it would sound weird if he slipped up while they were at the play and called him Dr. Reynolds. He was having enough issues with his seemingly gay date without making other people in the audience wonder why he had to bring his physician along.

The phone rang, and Xander dove for it. Maybe it was Mark calling to cancel, and he’d have to get that. Because he had to face it: even though he thought Mark was nice, and that the play would probably be interesting, it would definitely make things way simpler if Mark was calling to tell him they weren’t going to be able to go. Not that Xander would want anything bad to happen to him, but it could be a veterinary emergency. Maybe there were a bunch of cockatoos with the bird flu down at the clinic, or a couple of puppies that had gotten into the puppy nip, and had to be watched to make sure they didn’t go into puppy fits.

“Hi, yeah,” he said in a rush. “What’s going on? The animals okay?”

“Xander? Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”

“Buffy?” he asked in confusion. “I’m not -- I didn’t -- what the heck are you talking about?”

She made an anguished sound. “Well, today after class, I was talking about all of us patrolling. Willow said you couldn’t, and I asked why. And after this whole long pause thing, with her obviously not telling me whatever thing is going on with you, Willow finally explained to me how you have a date tonight to go see a play with a male veterinarian.”

He laughed nervously. “Him being a veterinarian has nothing to do with it, Buff.”

“But I always thought we were so close!” she wailed. “And now you’re already seeing some guy, when here I thought that you’d definitely tell me you were gay before you had a date with a male veterinarian!”

He swallowed. “You’ve thought about whether or not I’d tell you if I was gay? Why is everyone so un-shocked that I’m going out with a guy? Because, hello, very much the heterosexual here, with three different girlfriends in my tawdry past. But when I told her about it, Willow even said she thought it would be good for me, and--”

She interrupted with urgency. “Xander, I know you and Willow have that whole childhood history thing, and all those years of telling each other secrets and stuff. And I get that, I do. But I can be understanding too. I’m your friend, Xander, one of your best friends, and I want you to tell me about all about what’s happening in your life, whether it’s work related or pet related or about you coming out of the closet.” She sounded close to tears.

“Buffy, calm down, okay? I’m not gay, really. I just…happen to be going out on a date with a guy who is. But it’s not really a date, I swear, just more a whole misunderstanding that I couldn’t figure out how to clear up without being a big jerk.”

She sniffled. “Huh?”

He started as the doorbell rang. “Listen, Buffy, I’m sorry about all this, but I promise I’m keeping you totally in the loop on everything about me. There’s nothing going on that you don’t know about, okay? Now, I have to go, because my date Mark is here.”

He hung up the phone, barely hearing her incoherent exclamation as he put the receiver down, and made for the door.

“Okay, so I thought he was picking me up downstairs in front of the lobby in ten minutes, but apparently someone let him into the building,” he muttered to himself as he smoothed his hair down for the umpteenth time.

When the doorbell rang a second time, he put his hand on the door knob, and took a deep breath. “And why wouldn’t someone who lives in the building let him in? Because obviously he comes across as a respectable seeming, animal loving, guy. He’s objectively good looking, to both women and men, and -- Spike?” he asked in confusion when he saw Spike standing in the hall.

The vampire in question leaned against the door frame, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, with a slightly wary expression on his face. “So.” He gazed at Xander, taking in the tie, the suit jacket, the more fixed up than usual hair, and grinned. “He likes it, eh?”

Xander gaped. “Look, I don’t know who told you what, but it’s just a play, a one night thing, and that’s all. This has nothing to do with my sexuality. And I dressed up because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you go to the theater. Willow said.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow at him. “I meant your cat, Odo. He likes the tower?”

“Oh!” Xander stepped back reflexively so he could gesture at the tower in its new spot over in the corner. Unfortunately, Spike stepped right on in after him. “Yeah, he loves it. Spends tons of time playing or napping on it. It’s a great present, and I really appreciate you buying it for him.” He clasped Spike on the arm, trying to keep a grateful expression on his face. “Now. Since we’ve cleared that up, you’re going to have to leave, because --”

“Didn’t buy it, found it,” Spike reminded him.

“Right, yeah. You said that.” Xander licked his lips and let go of Spike’s arm. “So. You’re here why? What can I do for you? Or, more specifically, what can I do for you to make you leave?”

Spike shrugged. “Just stopping by on my way somewhere else, thought I’d have a quick look in at the cat.”

Xander stared. “Oh. Okay, yeah. That would be cool, except for the part where I’m headed out for a couple of hours. So you’ll be going now. You’ll look at Odo some other time.” He pointed at the door unnecessarily.

“So? You go ahead. But there’s no reason for me to, yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean -- ” Xander shook his head to clear it.

Meanwhile, Spike made a funny clucking sound with his tongue, and all of a sudden Odo was speeding towards him from the bedroom. The kitten had obviously just woken up -- his fur was a little matted from licking the same spot on his back, as he usually did when he was lulling himself to sleep, and he’d been carrying his stuffed tiger, which he dropped along the way as he trotted in.

But even if he’d been knocked out for a while, Odo was going straight into play-time mode at the sight of Spike. He was even letting out the excited, high-pitched meows he usually reserved for when Xander threw a jingle-ball his way, and Spike wasn’t doing anything except standing there.

“Come on. You needn’t worry about it. We’ll have ourselves a little playtime, and then I’ll lock up when we’re through,” Spike added.

“Well.” Xander watched Odo, already dancing on his hind legs with his front paws digging into Spike’s jeans as he tried to bat at the vampire. “I have kind of been working a lot this past week, and he hasn’t really been getting enough activity in the evening. If you didn’t mind hanging out with him, that’d be kind of…helpful. So, if you promise you’ll lock the door after you leave…”

“I said so, didn’t I?” Spike asked. “ ‘Sides, I won’t be here long. I’m on my way somewhere else; just stopping by, is all.”

Xander looked from Spike’s impassive expression to Odo, his eyes wide, and already scurrying around Spike to get at and pounce on his boot laces.

“Okay. Um.” Xander backed towards the door. “There’s beer, if you want something. Just don’t drink every last one of them.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Spike crouched down and let Odo climb up his leg.

Xander hesitated one last time, then shut the door behind him and went down to meet Mark at the appointed time.

Chapter Text

Xander had been totally right about the arm rest situation. During the first act, he and Dr. Mark Reynolds were smooshed together, and they kept inadvertently brushing against each other’s arms. After the third or fourth time, they grinned at each other, and ended up sharing the arm rest.

Xander blamed his cheeks burning on the complete lack of air in the theater, not elbow jostling with Mark.

They went back to the lobby during intermission, and when Mark said something about going to get a drink, Xander nodded and hung out near the wall murals, checking out the crowd.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just got two glasses of champagne,” Mark said as he came back. He handed Xander a flute.

“Wow, fancy,” Xander said. “You sure know how to treat a guy.” By the time his own words had sunk in, he was choking on his first sip of champagne.

“You okay?” Mark asked in concern. He whacked him on the back when Xander looked up, red-faced and teary-eyed.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry. Just. I shouldn’t talk sometimes.”

“I hear you,” Mark said, but he was smiling. He handed Xander a handkerchief, which, holy Pete, was monogrammed. “So. I’m really glad you could come with me tonight.”

“Me too,” Xander said, and he meant it. The play had been cool so far, Dr. Reynolds -- no, Mark -- was great to hang out with, and it was probably the first social thing he’d done that didn’t involve the girls in a long while.

Someone brushed by, with a quietly murmured, “Pardon me,” and Xander said, “Yeah, no problem.”

The man halted in his tracks and did a double-take.

Xander blinked rapidly. “Hey, Giles.”

“Giles?” asked Mark with interest.

“Rupert Giles,” Giles said, shaking Marks’ hand.

“And Anya, Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins,” Anya added as she appeared at Giles’s elbow.

“You’re here,” Xander said stupidly. “Both of you. Together.”

“Ah, yes!” Giles raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment. “Well, it was, er, a bit of luck. It just so happened . . . that another shopkeeper downtown, whose store is adjacent to mine, he had some extra tickets. Well, when he found he couldn’t attend, he called me this afternoon to see if I could make use of them. And naturally, since Anya was right at the store, and it was such a last-minute situation, I asked her if she would like to come along with me.” Giles gave a bark of laughter. “No sense letting perfectly good theater tickets go to waste.”

“No sense at all,” Xander agreed. He tried not to stare at them, or somehow let on that he’d seen them making out in The Magic Box not too long ago. Because maybe they weren’t even . . . whatever it was they had been doing . . . anymore. They probably weren’t, come to think of it. It made no kind of sense that he could think of, Anya with Giles.

But as he saw Anya’s mouth set in that funny little bow it got into when she was feeling irritated and affectionate at the same time, he had second thoughts.

“That’s not what happened at all,” Anya protested. “Rupert, you got the tickets a week ago when the theater called to let you know they’d found your name on the waiting list, and you asked me to go with you then. And when I asked, ‘Is this our first official date?’, you took my hand, and you said, “Well, I suppose we can call it that, if you like,’ and I said I did like to call it that, and have been calling it that in my head for about five days. So this is definitely a prearranged date, not some unexpected ticket windfall.”

Giles returned his gaze to the ceiling. “Hmmm.”

“Xander, I’m sure it’s awkward for you to see me on my first official date with Giles,” Anya said with a pat to his arm, somehow managing to sound brisk and sympathetic all at once. “But of course it’s important to get back on that horse. Really, we’ve all waited long enough.”

“Great, thanks,” Xander said faintly.

She made a frustrated noise. “I mean it, Xander. Put yourself back out there.” She leaned forward a little on her toes, and seemed on the verge of reaching out and giving him a friendly, encouraging shove.

“I am out there,” Xander said irritably. “I mean, out here. I mean -- ”

It was like he was watching himself on a screen, saying, No, you moron, don’t make this any more complicated than it is!

But the moron on the screen was too busy saying “This is my date, Mark,” to listen.

“Oh. Well. Good lord.” Giles took his glasses off, put them back on, and then took them off again.

Xander sighed. But he’d already jumped into the Oh yeah? Well I have a date too game, so he kept on going. “Mark, this is Giles and Anya. Giles and Anya, this is Mark.”

“Well, I am very pleased to meet you,” Anya said emphatically, grabbing Mark’s hand and pumping it with a vigorous up and down motion. “Xander is a real catch, no matter what happened, and even though I didn’t guess that he was--”

“We should be going,” Giles said smoothly. “Xander, we’ll be seeing you soon, I hope.”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing me,” Xander muttered as they headed towards the bar.

“That’s your ex?” Mark said slowly to Xander. “He seems so distinguished. British. And bi, I guess. Here I was worried that maybe I was a little too old for you, but . . .” He shook his head. “Sorry. That’s completely . . . So you knew he was dating a woman?” He glanced back at the direction Giles and Anya had gone. “No wonder you’ve had a tough time the past few months. That must have been rough for you to find out.”

“Mark.” Xander took a breath. “See, the thing is, Giles isn’t my ex.”

Mark sipped his champagne. “He’s not? But I thought that was the name you mentioned, the other night at the clinic.”

“No, he’s not. I mentioned his name because he was the one I saw kissing my ex -- who is Anya. Anya was my girlfriend until we ended things two months ago.”

“Anya,” Mark repeated. “Anya,” he said again in a voice of dawning realizing. “Oh. Wow. Okay.” He coughed, and lowered his voice. “So you’re the one who’s bi, I guess.”

“Not so much,” Xander said uncomfortably. “I mean, if we’re going by traditional definitions of ‘has gone out with and/or gotten busy with both women and men.’ It was more . . . you seemed so nice. And then you mentioned that you’d broken up with someone too, and then there were tickets . . . It just seemed like we got along so well, but I guess that I really should have been more up front.”

Mark made a funny expression, and Xander felt his stomach do a funny little flip. Mark wasn’t going to get upset and tell him off right here, was he? Or say they should go home, and make them both miss all of Act II?

“So I’m the first guy you’ve ever gone out with,” Mark clarified.

“Yes,” Xander answered immediately.

Mark’s funny expression turned into a grin. “Really? You thought you were straight, until you met me?”

“Yes.” Xander nodded. Then he stopped. “No. Wait. It wasn’t exactly like that, either --”

A man near them laughed, and Xander automatically looked over in the direction of the sound as though it would bring some kind of merry rescue from the conversation he was having.

“Mark?” the man said loudly. He was already starting to approach them.

“Oh. Steven, hi,” Mark said in surprise.

Steven came over, and after an awkward smile exchanged between him and Mark, they did one of those stiff armed hugs.

Xander tried not to balk visibly. First Anya and Giles on a date at the theater, and now Mark’s former boyfriend Steven at the very same play? What were the odds? He glanced into the crowd, just to see if any of his other exes were headed his way. He didn’t really see Faith going to a play, but Cordy apparently had the acting bug these days. . .

“You look great,” Steven was saying by the time Xander tuned back in. “I mean it.”

“Thanks, thank you.” Mark smiled, though it wasn’t anywhere near as happy looking as when he’d grinned a moment ago. “Wow. I haven’t seen you in such a long time.”

“It has been a while,” Steven agreed. “A couple of weeks, at least.”

“Just over two months,” Mark supplied, and then winced.

Steven took a swig of the drink in his hand. “That long, huh? So. Um. What are you doing here?”

Mark held up his play bill. “I had tickets to the play. I got them before -- I got them a while ago.” He looked quickly at Xander, and then asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m kind of -- well, it’s not really dating -- but I’m sort of seeing the guy who is the stage manager of this. I’ve been before, seen some of the other performances during the run. But I came back again to this one, because tonight there’s going to be some kind of cast and crew party afterwards, so. . .” Steven paused and then changed his tone. “Look, I seriously didn’t know I’d run into you here, or have to tell you like this. I should have emailed, or called, or something. I know it can be strange when --”

“No, no, you know what? It’s totally fine. That’s great,” Mark said. He nodded a little too hard. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

Despite his assurances, he seemed taken aback, and Xander, without thinking it through much, coughed pointedly.

“Oh,” Mark said in embarrassment. “Sorry. Steven, this is Xander.”

“Hi, Xander.” Steven’s eyes stayed on Mark. “Are you enjoying the show?”

“Oh, yeah.” Xander leaned closer to Mark, and enunciated clearly. “Mark’s a really great guy to go on a date with, as I’m sure you know.”

“Date?” Steven asked blankly. He turned to look at Xander more closely just as the lights in the lobby flashed briefly. “You and Mark?”

“Well, we really should go sit down again,” Xander said, grabbing Mark’s arm. “Don’t want to miss the next part. Nice meeting you, though.”

“You too,” Steven said as they walked away.

Chapter Text

Xander had jumped out of Mark’s car as soon as it slowed to a crawl in front of his lobby.

Not that he was trying to get away from Mark, exactly. But since his spur of the moment plan to come clean at the theater and confess that he wasn’t much into guys at all hadn’t exactly gone swimmingly. And the rest of what was obviously a date had, he figured he was coming up on some kind of when can we see each other again? conversation.

He’d already done his best to avoid second-date talk after the play. Though he wanted to beg off any kind of post-theater outing, he didn’t want to seem like a total jerk, and so at Mark’s suggestion, they went to have coffee at a small café that Xander had never been to before. It was very grown-up, with dark wood, dim-lighting, murmured conversations, and jazz playing on the sound system.

As soon as they were seated, Xander had started jabbering on and on about the play and its characters. Every one of his English teachers probably would have keeled over if they could have heard him. But it was all in the interests of keeping the conversation on safe topics, so he figured he had an excuse.

Then Mark had asked him about his job, and Xander had been so relieved for another delay tactic that he’d gone crazy talking about that. Good thing Mark had actually seemed pretty interested in hearing about his construction stuff. He’d asked good questions about what it was like being a foreman, the crew of guys Xander supervised, and the difficulty of the work. Still, Xander couldn’t help but notice that Mark’s gaze kept straying to Xander’s arms and shoulders while Xander described everything some of the heavy lifting and machine work they did. It all made him more nervous and jittery, even before he took the caffeine buzz into account.

“My treat,” Mark insisted when Xander took out his wallet to pay for their lattes and snacks.

Xander shook his head frantically. If Mark paid for everything, there was no way it wasn’t an agreed-upon date. “But you got the play tickets, so I figured --”

“I had already bought those before I even asked you,” Mark said lightly. “And really, you’re the one who did me the favor, coming with me, so it’s the least I can do to take care of this.”

Xander opened his mouth to protest, but somewhere during that Mark had already slipped the bill back to the clerk, tip and all.

So he should have known from the café that Mark was quick, too quick to be foiled by the rapid-car-escape. Sure enough, before Xander had loped more than a few feet towards the front of Mark’s car, Mark called out, “Hey, wait a second, and I’ll walk you upstairs.” Xander froze, caught like a deer in headlights. Which wasn’t such a bad analogy, considering that he was actually in Mark’s headlights.

“You don’t have to come all the way up,” Xander said lamely after Mark had parked his car and caught up with him.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to push my luck,” Mark said with a wink. “But my dad taught me that I should always see my dates to the door, and somehow I just can’t shake the habit.”

“Fine. To the door. But that’s it,” Xander said, pointing at Mark.

Mark raised his hands in concession. “No funny stuff.”

After a quick elevator ride of chit chat about the play’s unexpected ending, they reached Xander’s floor.

“Well, this is it,” Xander announced.

“Nice hallway,” Mark commented.

Xander stopped in front of his door. “So, thanks. For asking me, for taking me to the play tonight. I really did have a good time, though --”

“Though it was weird, running into Steven and Anya and Giles, wasn’t it?” Mark put in. “It wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned for the evening to go.”

“You planned how it would go?” Xander asked, and then laughed nervously. “See, that’s interesting, because I didn’t plan so much specifically, except for the part where I was going to try to tell you how I hadn’t really been completely clear about myself and the whole dating of men issue, but --”

“No, I hadn’t planned that,” Mark said, obviously amused. “I’d more been planning this.” And then all of a sudden, Mark was kissing him.

And damn, Dr. Mark Reynolds could kiss really, really well.

Xander’s hands rose up, and in the back of his head he felt really sure he had been going to try to disentangle himself from Mark and put a stop to any ideas about dating and romance and veterinarian-client relationships. But either there had been something in the latte, or he really was taking Anya’s advice to get out there, way, way too literally, because he’d just angled his head and kissed back like this had been a date in his mind all along.

* * *

Xander opened the door with a shaky hand and slipped inside. He didn’t bother to turn on the room lights, but just made for the kitchen to pour a cold glass of water.

When he’d gulped half of it down, he heard a small inquisitive, “Mew?” and saw Odo’s eyes glowing as the cat peered up at him.

“Hi, buddy,” he said, reaching down to pet him. Odo pawed at his shoe until Xander scooped him up.

“Okay, so that was weird,” he told Odo, holding him to his chest. “Not that it’s wrong, the male-male kissing thing, but I just didn’t think it was my thing, you know?” He took another sip of the water and then set Odo down on the counter while he dug around in the cabinets.

He fed Odo two Tuna Treats, letting the cat grab his index finger and bite it playfully while he thought. “So either it is my thing, or . . . or it’s just been a little while, since I kissed anyone,” he reasoned. “Makes sense I’d get a little…you know…into it, while he was -- oh god -- pressed up against me.”

He drank the rest of the water rapidly. “None of this means anything at all. The kissing, or the clutching, or the, um, moaning. After all, Dr. Mark is a very handsome man,” he told Odo. “He’s tall, and he’s got great eyes, and you can tell he works out. Anyone would respond to him. Right? At least I did. Oh, god.”

Odo stood at the edge of the counter and cried to be let down. Xander set him on the floor and turned to go brush his teeth.

“Well, now. Who's this Dr. Mark?” a low voice from the sofa asked.

Chapter Text

At the sound of Spike’s voice, Xander jumped half a foot into the air, landing with his hand over his heart.

“The hell are you doing here?” he yelled as soon as he could breathe normally.

As he flicked on the light with an indignant snap, Spike sat up on the couch and stretched. “Think you better get that memory of yours checked, pet. Was here playing with the cat.”

“Yeah, okay, I know that’s why you were here before. But with the whole ‘lock your door on the way out’, the understanding was that you'd be good and gone when I got back. So, I say again, the hell are you doing here?”

Spike gave Xander a hard look. “What are you doing here? Or more to the point, what’re you doing here alone? If you’re so hot and bothered about this doctor of yours, with the ‘clutching’ and the ‘moaning’, why didn’t you ask him in?” During the last question, Spike had gotten to his feet and now he stalked towards Xander, a flash of something like menace in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” Xander exclaimed as Spike got closer. “I can’t believe that you’re skulking around in my apartment, eavesdropping on a completely private conversation between me and my cat! I don’t have to tell you anything I don’t want to -- even if there was something to tell! Besides, there’s no heat or bother-making or anything really happening with me and . . . and anyone.” Xander took a step back and then another. “Especially because a little sympathy dating and one round of confused kissing with a veterinarian do not a gay man make, so --”

Spike stopped and stared. “You’re going out with your vet?”

“He’s Odo’s vet,” Xander corrected him. “And going out, that sounds like an ongoing thing. There was one date. One. Which is now over.”

One more step and Spike was less than an arm’s length away. “So you’ll not be seeing him again? Or will you?” Spike cocked his head to the side, and his hand drew up to his pocket, like he was about to take out his pack of cigarettes.

“Like I’m going to tell you if I am or not,” Xander answered, and then trailed off. Come to think of it, he wasn’t totally sure if he had agreed to see Mark again, what with the sort of surprising and really good kissing. Whether it was from thinking about the hallway make-out session, or getting weirded out by the way Spike was acting, his heart was going a mile a minute, and his thoughts were all jumbled. He took another step back, and hit the wall.

Spike’s eyes narrowed. He lifted his arm, and then put his palm on the wall next to Xander’s head, leaning in as he spoke. “Can’t remember?” His voice had dropped nearly to a whisper. “Must say, pet, Dr. Mark’s kisses seem to make you forget about all kinds of things.”

Xander gaped, and then swallowed with some difficulty since his throat seemed to have gone completely dry. “So? I mean, what do you care whether I make out with Dr. Mark or not?”

Neither said anything, and the silence felt like a tangible thing between them. Then there was a quick scraping sound, and both of them automatically looked towards the source across the room.

“What’s with the little man?” Spike asked, gesturing to Odo.

The question and answer session temporarily forgotten, they both turned to look at the cat, who was inching along the wall, coming up to the bookcase. He was mincing forward in a kind of slow-mo, much more silently than usual, and his eyes were anime-eye wide, the pupils so dilated that they seemed totally black.

“I have no idea what’s up with him, but he’s been doing that around there the past day or so,” Xander answered. “Yesterday he kept trying to stick his head under the space between the bottom slat of the bookcase and the floor, and his tail was swishing back and forth like crazy.” Xander took a small step closer so he wouldn’t startle Odo. “I guess he’s just spooked.”

Spike eyed Odo before going right up to him quietly, and then crouched down and gave the cat a full stroke from his head to his haunches. Odo lowered his body to evade most of the touch, and then wriggled away with his belly low to the ground.

“He’s on the hunt,” announced Spike.

Xander laughed aloud at that. “The hunt? Well, he’s in for a surprise, because there’s nothing here to hunt.” He watched the cat for a moment and then shook his head. “Nah, he’s just acting crazy because he’s nocturnal or something.”

“ ‘S not crazy,” Spike objected. “Yeah, he’s nocturnal, but he’s a natural predator, that one. It’s instinct taking over, because there’s prey in his territory. ‘Sides, if he can’t go after birds and rats and whatnot out in the wild, he’ll find something to track and pounce on in here.” He didn’t look up as he continued. “He’s going to go after what’s his.”

Xander scratched his head and watched as Odo returned to the bookcase and began prowling around in front of it. “I guess you could be right, if he’s just making up stuff to chase or hunt. Just seems weird to me, though, that he’d make such a big deal over nothing.”

Spike seemed to be in the middle of an eye-roll when suddenly he put a finger to his lips. Xander gave him an odd look, but Spike just crossed the room towards him, and then reached out to dim the living room lights.

“The hell?” Xander would have said if Spike hadn’t grabbed him from behind and smacked a hand over his mouth.

“Quiet now,” Spike whispered in Xander’s ear. He left his hand where it was, as though he didn’t trust Xander to follow basic instructions.

Odo made a small, single skittering sound in his throat, and then everything was silent.

A moment later, a pink nose and whiskers poked out from under the bookcase, barely discernible in the low light.

“Mice!” Xander might have shrieked, if Spike hadn’t tugged at him with the hand covering his mouth as a reminder to hush up. Apparently just for good measure, Spike curled his free arm around Xander’s waist, pulling him back against his torso.

Odo inched forward a bit more before stopping and then subtly cocking his head to the side. Then, so fast that Xander almost missed it, he swung out one paw and pinned down the mouse before pulling it back and close to him, like a toy. He lay on his side and licked the mouse’s coat before raking one of his back legs across its small body.

“Very nice,” Spike murmured. His arm was still around Xander’s middle for some reason, and he must have been way focused on the hunting show, because his thumb was slowly skimming back and forth on Xander’s hipbone. Xander shivered and leaned away from the scene of cat and mouse, which just so happened to be in the direction of Spike’s body.

For a moment, none of them moved. Then the mouse emitted a pained squeak.

“Oh god -- it’s still alive!” Xander broke from Spike’s hold and went to check out the situation. “The poor tiny guy,” he said under his breath as he saw that the mouse was obviously injured but still breathing, its little chest rising up and down rapidly.

“Hasn’t killed it quite yet, has he?” For some reason, Spike’s voice had an edge of irritation to it. “Suppose he means to play with it a bit.”

Xander shuddered. “That’s awful. And totally gross.”

Spike barked out a laugh. “Little squeamish, aren’t you, pet, for having a killer in your house?”

The mouse struggled to its feet and darted a short distance before coming to a full stop at Xander’s feet.

Xander tried mightily not to either not pass out or dance around on his tiptoes like some scared 1950s housewife in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. He just barely managed it, instead swaying at what was probably an alarming angle.

“Calm down.” Spike knelt next to Odo, who was sniffing the mouse with his mouth gaping slightly, and beginning to drool on its fur.

“But what should we do with it?” Xander tried not to pay attention to the fact that his voice was reaching levels that someone unsympathetic might have described as ‘screechy’. “We can’t set it free outside, because it’s already hurt.”

“Right.” Spike ran a hand down Odo’s side, and Odo put up with the attention, but kept his primary focus on the twitching mouse. “The hunting urge, yeah, now that’s instinct, but killing . . . sometimes that has to be taught.”

Xander nodded impatiently. “Okay. So you’re a philosopher of jumping and killing stuff; I get it. Now help me figure out what to do next.”

Spike sat back on his heels and raised an eloquent eyebrow.

“Oh. Oh!” Xander’s gaze flicked back and forth between Odo, intent on his catch, and Spike, hunkered down next to him. “Okay. I’ll just -- uh --”

And with that Xander scrambled away and fled to the bedroom, so he wouldn’t have to watch a vampire teach his little fluffy kitten how to off a rodent.

* * *

“You should’ve seen it,” Spike said proudly.

When Xander finally ventured back into the living room, Spike slapped him proudly on the back.

“The killing bite, ‘s something any predator’s got. Every species does it different-like, but all the ones in the same species have the same way of going about it. And yeah, I’ve never been much for lions or big cats, I mean, for watching them do it, but just as soon as I demonstrated how it might go, he --”

“Demonstrated on the mouse?” Xander asked.

Spike waved away the question. “He took to it right away.” Spike grinned before ruffling Odo’s fur the wrong way. Odo preened and purred like that was just the best thing ever. “I tell you, even though you’ve brought him inside and made a pet of him, he’s still a killer at heart. Tells you something.”

“Great,” Xander said weakly. “That makes me feel terrific. And the mouse?”

“Oh, well. Dead, isn’t it? Bits of it, he ate right up. And the rest I tossed.” Spike cleared his throat. “Didn’t seem like something you’d want about the house.”

“Awww, and just when I was planning on making him a ceremonial collar from the bones,” Xander snapped.

Spike set his mouth forward and shrugged. “Well. I’ll be off then.”

“Wait, no,” Xander said. “Stop. I’m -- thanks.”

Spike’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Yeah, okay.”

Xander stuffed his hands in his pockets and gazed at Spike for a moment. “Um. You can crash on the couch for the night if you want. I mean, you did help, and maybe if you’re too tired to --”

“Yeah? All right.” Spike removed his coat quickly and sat on the couch right away.

Xander licked his lips as he watched Spike stretch out. “Okay. I’m beat too, so I’m just going to . . .”

Spike just laced his fingers behind his neck and moved his back against the couch like he was getting cozy.

Xander paused, and then went into the bedroom.

Two minutes later, he came out again.

“You want any blankets? A pillow?”

“No. M’fine.” Spike watched him, attentive and almost smiling.

Xander stared at him until he realized he was doing it, then skedaddled to the bedroom and collapsed onto the mattress.

A moment later he was back in the living room again.

“Forget something?” Spike asked. It was that same low voice he had used when Xander was talking to Odo in the dark and Spike had spoken up suddenly. For whatever reason, it made Xander shiver.

“Um. The blinds. I thought.” Xander gestured towards the floor to ceiling windows.

“Appreciate that,” Spike replied. He kept his eyes trained on Xander.

Xander tried to release and turn the blinds too quickly, sending them up with a clatter and then tangling the cord. But finally the blinds were down and closed, and muttering a goodnight, Xander went into the bedroom once more. This time, he closed the door and leaned against it, making sure that he stayed put.

Chapter Text

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Xander lurched out of his bedroom towards the general direction of the coffee pot. The details of last night’s arm-rest sharing, the events in the play, the extra dramatic scenes of their encounters with exes in the lobby, and the oh-so-steamy goodnight kiss with Dr. Mark Reynolds: all of those memories swirled in a fuzzy mess in his head.

But damn if he was going to make himself think about anything confusing until he’d had some caffeine.

He made it over to punch the button starting the brew cycle. After ducking into the bathroom, he emerged just in time to hear the hiss of the last dribble of sweet, sweet java dripping into the coffee pot, and fumbled a mug out of the cupboard. Only after he’d poured a cup, doused it with his usual treatment of cream and sugar, and taken a cautionary too-hot sip did he take a cursory glance around the apartment.

His whole waking up process, it turned out, got ramped up big time at the sight of a platinum-haired vampire sprawled out on his couch.

“Spike,” he started to exclaim, hand over his heart. But it wasn’t just Spike on the couch. No, there on Spike’s chest was a curled up ball of grey and white fluff. Correction, a rapturously purring ball of grey and white fluff.

“What?” Spike asked suddenly.

Xander eep-ed and spilled the coffee, though at least the carpet ended up taking the hit instead of him. He almost directed a stream of curses Spike’s way before he remembered, duh, he had been the one to invite Spike to stay over. Plus, Spike had been helpful with the whole mouse disposal business after Odo had gleefully chomped on the mouse’s innards. So Xander probably shouldn’t be shouting at Spike just yet. At least not before cup of coffee numero dos.

“Morning?” he tried instead.

“Afternoon,” Spike corrected him without opening his eyes.

Odo yawned and rose up, arching his back as he dug his claws into Spike, and then stretched out one leg, giving it a little shake. He padded around Spike’s stomach with a tiny rumble before repositioning himself in what Willow said was widely known as the Kitty Loaf Position: back legs hidden underneath, front paws curled under.

Xander stared at how Odo’s screwed-shut eyes expression mirrored Spike’s closed eyes as the two faced one another. It was like they were looking at each other from behind their eyelids or something.

Or maybe it was just that Odo was trying not to notice, as Xander was now noticing, that the top button or two of Spike’s jeans seemed to be undone. Which was totally Spike’s business, if that was the way he slept, and definitely Xander wasn’t one to try to make anyone sleep in an uncomfy way, because that led to back aches and grumpiness.

Deciding it was best if he just went about his morning as though it was a vampire-less Saturday, he paused by Odo’s kibble canister as he went to refill his mug. It was definitely way past breakfast time for kittens. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to lure Odo away from his cuddle with Spike. And that was a weird enough thought to flit through his head that he immediately started chattering to fill the silence. Of course, he didn’t look as he chattered, because Spike + partly undone button fly = morning, no, afternoon, weirdness.

“So, you here till nightfall? Because I think there’s patrol later, but my big plans for the day pretty much involve eating three bowls of cereal and then soaping myself up in the shower until the hot water runs out. I’m thinking that probably doesn’t sound too fun to you, so . . . ”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Spike said in a rough voice. He opened his eyes to look at Xander, and somehow in the dimness of the room, they looked more bright blue than ever. “Could have some fun with that, if you knew what you were about.”

Xander laughed and began to say nervously, “Boy, you must really like cereal,” when the phone started to ring.

“Yeah, hello,” he said distractedly.

Odo moved forward and head butted Spike’s chin, seeking pets and attention. Spike smirked at the kitten and started scritching him behind his ear.

“Xander, um . . . hi.”

“Oh!” Xander put his coffee down and switched the receiver to the other ear. “Mark, hey, how are you doing?” He turned his back to the scene on the couch.

“Listen, I know I should probably wait two or three days before I call you again,” Mark said in a rush. “But I had a lot of fun last night, and I wanted to know when I could see you again. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try to find some night I could take you out for dinner.” He cleared his throat. “It couldn’t hurt, right?”

“No, definitely not,” Xander said. Not that he was sure about how he felt about Mark, far from it. But they had a lot in common, with their recent break-ups and former significant others already dating other guys. If Xander saw him again in a date-like scenario, it was only because they got along well and it was good for Mark to socialize. It wasn’t at all because Mark did really impressive things with his tongue.

“That would be great,” he said in a firmer voice. “I’d love to go out for dinner with you.”

Spike snorted as he got to his feet, knocking Odo to the floor. The kitten let out an angry mreeowww! at Spike, and sped off for his hiding place under the bed.

“Right. I’m out of here,” Spike announced.

Xander covered the receiver with his hand. “Wait, don’t you have to take a blanket or something?” he whispered.

Spike raised an eyebrow at him and reached to button up his jeans all the way. Xander could feel his cheeks burn as his eyes darted away.

“Can leave as soon as I get to your laundry room. The tunnel system opens up right next to it.”

“Well, that’s totally reassuring, having a vampire accessible building,” Xander hissed back.

There was an audible pause on the other end of the phone line. “Hey, did I call at a bad time?” Mark asked. “It sounded like maybe -- were you talking to someone?”

“What? No!” Xander waved Spike off impatiently. Spike scowled at him before slinking towards the door.

“I just thought I heard someone talking,” Mark replied.

“Oh, that? No, it was the television. And me. Talking back to the television. And remember how I said last night that sometimes I just shouldn’t talk?”

Mark laughed, a rich warm sound. “Well, I think you should talk. I like hearing you, and I kind of insist you talk when we go out to dinner.”

“Right,” Xander answered. “I mean, what else would we do?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’d think of something.”

If you could hear someone grin, Xander swore he could tell just from listening that Mark was smiling.

Of course, the heavy slam of the door as Spike kicked it shut drowned out any other smiley noises Mark might have made right after that.

Xander ate his three bowls of cereal and took a long shower until the water went cool. But the routine wasn’t as fun as it usually was for some reason.

Maybe he was having second thoughts about Mark and their dinner. To an outside observer, it might look like Xander was kind of, well, getting involved with Mark. He didn’t think that was what he wanted . . . or was it?

But when he let his mind wander to familiar thoughts of dating and new thoughts of guys being date-able, his mind kept feeding him images of Spike scowling at him, Spike jumping up and knocking Odo to the floor, the wham! of the door banging closed.

So to distract himself and stop thinking about sullen vampires, Xander spent a good half hour trying to coax Odo out from under the bed. Not that he had any luck; the kitten must have been really upset about Spike tumbling him to the ground after they’d gotten all sleep bond-y. But Odo wasn’t crying or staring with wide eyes at Xander, the way he would do if he was sad or scared. He just was asleep in the dead center under the mattress, his stuffed tiger right next to him, positioned at exactly the point where Xander couldn’t reach.

“Fine,” Xander sighed as he backed away on his knees, brushing dust bunnies from his shirt sleeves. “I’ll give you your space. Not that kittens are supposed to need space . . .” He trailed off as he peeked back at the cat. “Are kittens supposed to need space?”

Odo’s ears twitched, but he did not deign to indicate an answer to that question.

Xander glanced up at the side table, where his copy of You and Your New Kitten was still waiting to be cracked open, and frowned.

“Well, tell you what. I’ve got to go back to the Magic Box to take care of Giles’s possible hole in the wall problem anyway. I’ll fill up your bowl, give you a new jingle bell toy, and let you have some time alone.”

No response from Odo.

When Xander had pulled on his jacket and grabbed his keys, he scattered a little catnip on top of Odo’s kitty condo by way of peace offering and left.

Chapter Text

When Xander walked into The Magic Box with his tool kit, Anya and Giles were murmuring to each other as they pored over some sort of ledger book by the cash register.

At the round table, Willow and Buffy passed a magazine back and forth, but Xander noticed their eyes were more on Anya and Giles than the pages in their hands.

“Don’t look now,” Buffy muttered to Xander as he slid in the seat next to her. “But it seems like there’s a thing going on with Anya and Giles.”

“A thing with Anya and Giles?” Xander repeated. He swiveled to look.

“Xander! I said, don’t look now,” Buffy scolded him under her breath.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Willow whispered. She leaned forward eagerly. “But Tara pointed it out to me yesterday, when the two of them were going over some pile of receipts and making eyes at each other. Then, when I told Buffy, she said she’s been noticing the two of them acting funny for a while. Like, Anya’s been really giggly when he talks to her, and Giles’s been all strut-y when he thinks she’s watching.” She waggled her eyebrows. “We think they want to start with the smoochies.”

Anya laughed, tossing her hair back, her right hand stroking at her neck. Giles tried and failed to suppress a grin as he watched, and leaned a little closer to speak to her.

“See? That’s some prime flirting right there,” Willow whispered. “Hand to the neck, advertisement of sexual availability. We learned all about it in Human Sexuality.” She clutched the magazine as though she were about to tear it. “Now would be a great time for Giles to make his move.”

“He already made it,” Xander said, grabbing the magazine out of her hands before she began pulling it to pieces. “I ran into them last night at the play I went to, very much on a date. Plus, weeks ago I saw them together when I came over here to fix the hole in the wall. They were already locking lips then.”

Willow’s mouth opened and closed. “Huh? They’re already at the smoochy stage?”

“So you knew the whole time and didn’t tell us?” Buffy pouted and socked him in the shoulder. Xander flinched manfully. “Xander, you know that friends shouldn’t keep friends out of the loop when wacky dramatic things are happening.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he hissed. “But I was a little distracted with my own wacky dramatic thing.”

Instantly both of them wore sympathetic looks as they shifted towards him.

“Is it what’s going on with Giles and Anya?” Buffy asked. “I know it’s weird for you, seeing her with him. Keeping it all to yourself, it’s probably got you worked up. But it really has been a while since you and Anya broke up. You can hardly blame her, especially since you went out on that date with the veterinarian.”

“Not just the one,” Xander corrected her. “We’re going out again tonight.”

"Tonight?" Willow squeaked. Anya looked up with a frown, and Willow lowered her voice. "You and Doctor Mark Reynolds, already on to date number two? That's intense. And, moving awfully fast. Are you prepared to move that fast?"

"What, should I be taking motion sickness for fast gay relationships?" Xander said irritably.

“Just how fast is it?” Buffy asked with interest. Based on the sparkle in her eye, she seemed to have gotten over yesterday’s upset at Xander’s initial delay in confiding in her about the date, and was moving right on to romantic snooping. “You don’t seem like you’re objecting to the date label anymore.”

“Not at all fast,” Xander objected. “I’m not some kind of boy hussy. Date-shmate, it’s two adults on a dinner . . . appointment. And last night, that was just a play. And coffee afterwards.”

“Seems like a date to me. I bet he even kissed him goodnight,” Willow said, nodding at Buffy with a knowing look in her eyes.

Buffy grinned, then leaned her chin on her hand. “Do you think he kissed him in the car, or at the door?”

“Hey, I’m right here,” Xander said, aggrieved.

“Oh, totally in the car, before Xander could jump out,” Willow put in.

“A peck on the cheek, probably,” Buffy offered.

“I’m willing to bet it got as far as a quick swipe on the lips before Xander could wrench the handle open and run,” Willow said.

“But no further,” Buffy noted.

“Definitely not,” Willow agreed.

Xander sputtered. “I’ll have you know that I got out of the car just fine, and Doctor Mark kissed me at the door, a very deep, knee-wobbling kiss with many exciting tongue maneuvers. In fact, it went on for twenty minutes or --”

He paused as the two of them faced him, both with wide grins. “You tricksters.”

“That’s us,” Willow said happily.

“Very tricky,” Buffy agreed. “But you’ve been kind of withhold-y about the info, you know? We’re not trying to make fun, we just want to support your --”

“Broadened horizons,” Willow finished with a grin. “And dinner appointments.”

Xander sighed. “Fine. Okay. They’re dates. I’ll stop trying to call them something else.”

“Now that’s progress,” Willow said.

“What I object to is that I can’t panic about the details of dating a handsome gay veterinarian in private. First Spike overhears me telling Odo about it --”

“Spike overheard?” Willow asked. “When?”

“And how?” Buffy asked.

“He was there when I got home,” Xander said impatiently. “I didn’t know he was still around before he decided to get all eavesdrop-py in the dark.”

“Still around?” Willow repeated.

“Plus today, when I was making plans with Mark on the phone, Spike completely listened in, and then slammed the door when he took off.”

“He was there this morning,” Buffy said blankly. “At your apartment.”

“This afternoon,” Xander corrected her. “We woke up late.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes, looking as though she were ready to threaten an informant. “So Spike was at your apartment last night when you got back. He slept at your place, he was around this afternoon . . . and you’re wondering about why he’s upset about your date with Mark?”

“Exactly,” Xander replied. “But not just the last date. The one I’m going on tonight, too.”

“Spike got you the cat condo,” Willow said slowly.

Xander stared. “That has less than nothing to do with this.”

“He got Xander a cat condo?” Buffy asked Willow. “Now it’s starting to make sense.”

“What’s starting to make sense?” Xander exclaimed in exasperation.

“Xander,” Giles said suddenly, as though he had only just noticed him. “I may have forgotten to phone you, but we aren’t meeting tonight. There are no pressing issues --”

“And Rupert and I have dinner plans,” Anya noted as she glanced in the mirror of her compact.

“Yes, well,” Giles flustered. “One does make plans to eat dinner, of course. And dining in companionable circumstances is beneficial for both, er, physical as well as mental wellness.”

Willow and Buffy smiled at each other, and went back to pretending to read the magazine.

“Never mind your dinner plans,” Xander told Giles as he went to stand in front of him and Anya. Anya glanced at Giles with worry in her eyes, then thrust her sharp little chin into the air, while Giles seemed flustered but straightened as Xander approached.

Xander sighed. “Stop looking like I’m going to clock you,” he said quietly. “Not only am I not bugged any more about you and Anya, I’m glad you guys are hanging out. I’m just here to check for points of entry.”

Giles looked blank. “I beg your pardon?”

Xander raised his eyebrows. “You know. No more surprise visits from unwelcome kittens?” He mimed a scratching motion with his fingers.

“Oh. Oh, yes! Thank you, I am grateful you remembered that.”

“No problem.” Xander set off for the training room, relieved to escape any more talk of dinner dates and romance.

He did a quick circle of the storage and back areas of the store, stopping now and again to examine the brick and sealant. After pressing against the back door, he got down on his hands and knees in the hallway, peering at the molding flush with the floor.

Every time he tapped against walls and examined the jointures of carpet and floor in the main area of the store, he could see Buffy and Willow whispering together. But Xander figured they must just be speculating together about Giles and Anya’s shiny new romance.

After poking around in the office, and checking the walls behind the counters and throughout the displays, Xander dusted off his jeans.

“Well? Do we need to have anything re-done?”

“Because that could be expensive,” Anya added to Giles’s question. “And that money would be better spent on cozy dinners and romantic get-aways.”

“Dinners for nourishment, of course,” Giles clarified. “And certainly, Anya, you would be entitled to holiday time, as would I, if either one of us desired to take it . . . ”

Buffy giggled, but turned it into a cough quickly when Giles glanced her way.

“Nope, you won’t have to re-do a thing.” Xander slapped a hand against the wall. “This place is sealed up tighter than a drum.”

“It is? But then however did-- ”

“Did Odo get in here?” Xander finished. He shrugged. “Not sure. But I don’t think you’re in danger of another kitty cat infestation right now.”

“He did seem highly suspicious, that cat, showing up from nowhere,” Anya noted. “If there was no way for him to worm into the building, maybe he teleported inside.”

Willow laughed. “Anya, he’s just a normal little kitten.”

“Oh really? Then how did he get in when Xander assured us that there are no holes he could have wriggled through?” She crossed her arms. “Come to think of it, why did the number of vampires in the cemeteries drop right around the time he showed up?”

“Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure you have to do more to vampires to get rid of them than just scratch them on the arms or purr at them,” Buffy said. She jabbed at the air with an invisible stake to emphasize her point.

“Well, I for one am glad we won’t have to deal with any furry pests,” Anya said brightly. “Especially since I should really get home and pick out sexy lingerie for tonight’s date with Rupert.”

Giles dropped the statuette he’d been cleaning, Willow made an eep!ing noise, while Buffy turned a pretty shade of pink.

“No point in pretending anymore about your companionable dining,” Xander advised Giles. “I’d say the cat’s out of the bag on that one. And on that note, I’ll be taking off for my own evening plans.”

“Have fun on your date,” Buffy said with a grin.

“But not too much fun,” Willow called in warning.

As Xander shut the door, Buffy might have muttered something else. But probably he had imagined the words he heard. Because what kind of sense did, “Because Spike really wouldn’t like that,” make?

Chapter Text

"You seem a little distracted."

"Huh?"

"Like you're thinking about something else," Mark clarified.

Xander barked out a laugh. "Me? No. What gave you that idea?"

"Well, I've called your name a few times already to see if you were ready to order," Mark said mildly.

"Oh. Oh!" Xander looked at the glaring waiter hovering at their table, and cleared his throat. "I'll have the uh . . . uh . . . beer?"

"Another, sir?" the waiter asked, pointedly staring at the full pint glass at Xander's right.

"We're going to need a moment." Mark gave a forced smile, and the waiter withdrew. "Listen, are you okay?"

"I'm good, yeah." Xander reached for his beer. "Sorry about that."

Mark gave him a searching look. "It feels like you're somewhere else."

"No way. I'm very much here with you." Xander bounced in his seat a little for emphasis. "See?"

"That's not exactly what I meant," Mark said in a dry voice. "You seemed more enthusiastic about getting together when we spoke earlier. Did something happen to make you change your mind about seeing me tonight?"

A million excuses about why he might seem out of it flitted through Xander's head: he could say he was thinking about a building code problem at the site; he could claim he'd just remembered a critical food allergy and needed extra ordering time if he didn't want to turn out splotchy; or he could point out that he had seen someone by the door who looked shifty, and did Mark ever catch America's Most Wanted, because seriously, those criminals were everywhere, and maybe even their snooty waiter might be a suspect.

"Xander?"

Instead he sighed and said without thinking, "I just keep thinking about Spike."

Mark's eyebrows shot up. "Spike?"

Xander fiddled with his coaster and lost control of it, flipping it through the air. "Did I say Spike? Because I sure didn't mean to say Spike."

Mark frowned. "Spike. Are we talking about a dog?"

"No! I have a kitten," Xander said.

Mark leaned back in his chair. "Right, I remember, seeing as that's how we met."

"And that's why you're a good veterinarian," Xander pointed out. "Because you care about the little details."

"But that doesn't answer who Spike is."

"Spike, he's just . . . uh . . ." Xander could feel his cheeks burning, though he had no clue why. It should have been easy enough to explain how there was this English punk vampire guy with a jones for fighting who lately had been buying Xander kitten accessories, sleeping over on Xander's couch with his jeans unbuttoned, and making Xander's friends whisper knowingly at each other, shouldn't it? Minus the vampire part, anyway.

"He's just a guy," he concluded lamely.

Mark took a sip of his wine. "Was that who I heard you talking to on the phone this afternoon?"

Xander swallowed. He should have known that old "no, that's just the television" excuse never worked in the end.

Just then a relieved voice called out, "Mark!"

"Steven?" Mark said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"Okay, I know this town is small, but this running into exes thing is getting ridiculous," Xander muttered.

Steven made his way over to their table and leaned one hand on it, all the while trying to catch his breath. "I said to myself, if Mark was taking someone on a second date, where would it be? And you weren't at any of the other three places I tried, so I knew you must have come here."

"Do you mind? We're trying to have a conversation," Xander blurted at the same time Mark asked in an unsteady voice, "You tried four places just to find me?"

"I'm sorry, I just --" Steven pulled over a chair, ignoring the "Hey!" of the people seated at the next table, and flung himself into it.

Mark looked slightly alarmed, and maybe a little intrigued. "Steven, you can't come barging in here like this."

Xander took a fortifying gulp of his beer.

"Look, you're probably really nice," Steven said to Xander. "God knows you're cut, not to mention pretty." He gave him a critical once over. "I can see why Mark is trying to get his hands all over your hot little body."

As he choked, Xander tried to focus on not turning purple.

Steven smacked him on the back a few times to help him breathe, and then started in again. "Even so, Mark and I have a history, and I can't let some cute buff guy just step in and ruin it all."

"You were the one who wanted to break up," Mark said.

"I know. I’m an idiot." Steven ran a hand through his hair. "We'd just been together for so long -- I wanted to try dating, have some fun. I thought I knew what I wanted when I told you I was going to move out. But when I saw you last night . . ." He exhaled. "All I could think of was what a great guy you are, and how we had something amazing between us. The thought of throwing that away, the idea that you could be with someone else and we'd never be together again -- it was killing me."

Xander opened his mouth and closed it again. Part of him wanted to remind the other two men that he was still at the table, damn it, and was in fact now in need of another beer.

But the rest of him wanted what Steven was talking about -- someone he could share something amazing with, someone who made him ache with the knowledge they were meant to be together. None of that was especially new. But in the past, that vague someone of his dreams was always a woman. Now, after one and one-third dates with Mark, some admittedly hot guy-on-guy making-out, and thoughts of a certain blond vampire taking up way more headspace than Xander had even realized before tonight, he was starting to see that was no longer necessarily true.

Mark took a shaky breath as he turned to Steven. "So you're saying --"

"Are you ready to order now?" the waiter asked.

Mark looked up in a daze at the once-again hovering waiter. "We're going to need --"

"A moment, right," the man answered before stomping off.

Steven leaned across the table and took Mark's hand. "I'm saying that no matter what, you're the guy I want to come home to."

"I don't know what to say," Mark murmured.

"Well, don't just say you'll take him back like that," Xander burst out. "He did break up with you, after all. Make him work for it!"

Both Mark and Steven swiveled to stare at him, blinking as if they had just remembered he was there.

Mark recovered first. "Steven, could you excuse us for a few minutes?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Sure. I'll be right over there by the bar." Steven got to his feet and walked off.

"Xander, I’m so sorry to mix you up in all of this," Mark said. "I really like you, but I can't just ignore what Steven is saying. He's right; we have been together for a long time, and if there's a chance that it might work --"

"Then you have to try." Xander held up a hand to stop any more explanation. "It's okay, I get it." He folded his napkin and stood.

"If things were different, I'd really want to see what would happen with you and me," Mark said.

Xander stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded. In another universe where Steven was still running after stage managers and Xander had already worked out the muddle in his head about upstanding handsome veterinarians and dangerous cat-condo-buying vampires, maybe something would have worked out between them.

"Just make sure you're choosing what you really want," Xander said. "After all, you're a great guy. And a great kisser."

"Likewise," Mark said with a grin. "Oh, and Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"That guy, Spike? I don't know what's going on there, but maybe you should talk to him."

Xander rubbed the back of his neck. "If he'll still talk to me? I'm thinking you're right."

Chapter Text

Xander slipped out of the restaurant, letting the door fall on the murmur of conversation and clinks of plates and glasses inside.

The restaurant wasn't too far from his apartment, but right now he was grateful for any length of walk he could get. He buttoned his jacket as he trudged along and tried to organize his thoughts. Though he'd gone through a couple of various scenarios of how his second date with Mark might end, leaving the restaurant midway to go find Spike and ask what was up between the two of them had been nowhere on his list.

Mark was right, though. He should talk to Spike. Right. He could do that. No problemo. The sooner, the better.

He started moving faster with long quick strides, but after a block or so he found himself slowing.

Talk to Spike. Just go right ahead and talk to the vampire who had been camping out on his couch and taking him to buy jingle balls and giving Odo stuffed tigers, and -- oh my god, Xander realized, that's what had been going on when Spike had basically wrapped his arms around Xander for a slow groove in the dark without music while Odo hunted innocent mice.

"And the whole, oh, a soapy shower could be fun if you knew what you were doing! He was totally coming on to me! I can't believe what a dope I am."

"So long as you learn, it's all right," a wild-looking guy leaning against a lamppost pointed out, making Xander jump a foot into the air.

"Oh, I'm learning," he replied without thinking as he tried to scuttle past.

"Wait! I know you!" the crazy guy shouted suddenly. "You were the guy with the ferret-cat."

"More like a cat-cat, but yeah," Xander replied, trying to edge away casually. "That'd be me." Now that the man had said something, Xander did remember him -- Mr. Crazy on the street, from that very first day of finding Odo.

Mr. Crazy gave him a sage nod. "Got my own ferret now," he noted, lifting a long sleek ferret from where it had snuggled around his neck. The butterscotch-colored animal blinked at Xander, and then returned to its job being a scarf.

"Gosh, that's swell." Xander made a show of looking at his watch. "Listen, I'm happy to hear you're all set up with your own pet, but I have to get going."

"I named him after you," the crazy guy called as Xander continued on down the sidewalk.

"You don’t know my name," Xander threw over his shoulder.

"Your name’s not Ace?" the guy asked in confusion.

Xander darted back over and fumbled a five dollar bill at he guy. "For ferret food," he muttered, and hurried off.

"Catch you on the flipside, Ace!" the guy called after him.

As he turned the corner, his phone went off a top volume:

Don’t fight the feeling,
You know you want to have a good time.
And in my opinionation, the sun is gonna surely shine

"Willow, hey," he answered automatically as he flipped his phone open.

"Xander! I didn't expect you to answer. Are you still on your date? Is he wining and dining you? He's not trying any funny business right there at the table, is he?"

"There was beer-ing, but no dining," Xander said as he switched the phone from one ear to the other. "And no funny business whatsoever, unless you count Mark's ex showing. I just left the two of them there together."

"His ex actually turned up?" Willow asked. "In the middle of the date?"

In the background Buffy's voice exclaimed, "Oh no! While they were at the fancy restaurant?"

"It's okay, seriously. I liked Mark, but I'm starting to think he's not the right guy for me."

"Xander, I don't know if you can get any more right than Doctor Mark Reynolds," Willow said with a sigh. "A handsome veterinarian, cultured, chivalrous --"

"You do realize you've never met the man, right Will? I mean, I'm not denying that he's a really attractive guy, but --" Xander frowned and checked the phone. There seemed to be distinctly un-Buffy-like growling coming from the other end. Xander glanced up to see if he was walking somewhere that could cause interference.

"At least you realize that there could be another right guy."

"What? Oh, right. You know, I’m sort of thinking there might be. Another guy for me, I mean." Even though she couldn't see him, Xander felt his cheeks flush at saying that part aloud.

"Anyone we know?" Willow asked in a sly voice.

"Um." It was one thing to admit he was open to dating the male half of the population. But it didn't seem like a hot idea to admit Spike might turn out to be his next conquest before he even spoke to Spike. "Not necessarily. There's no reason you'd know every possible guy I might be interested in, right?"

Xander was congratulating himself on his subterfuge when he heard the weird growling sound again. "Hey, you all on patrol or something?" he asked. "There's a strange noise -- you might be breaking up a little, maybe from walking in between all those overly ornate mausoleums."

"Mausolea," Willow corrected. "I don't hear anything strange. But yes, we're patrolling like Giles asked, even though we haven't found zip. It's just Buffy and Tara and me and Spike --"

"Spike's there?" Xander asked blankly.

"He's been grumpy all night too, and for some reason now he seems all worked up about something --"

Xander swore under his breath. Damn super sonic vamp senses! When he had said he would talk to Spike, he didn't mean he wanted Spike to overhear everything, and probably hear it come out all wrong.

"Xander? You still there?"

"Will, I think I better go. We'll talk later, okay?" He clattered the phone shut and picked up his pace.

Xander didn't bother waiting for the elevator, just sprinted up the stairs at his building so he could reach his apartment all the faster.

Sure, he reflected as he took the stairs two at a time, the mature thing to do would have been to find Spike right away, settle up any confusions about Xander cruising all eligible Sunnydale males instead of one particular vampire, and maybe stammer out," So how about you, me, some kind of horizontal surface, and a little sexuality exploring?"

But given the way Spike had taken off angry that morning, and the scary-growly thing he'd been doing on the other end of the line when Xander insinuated he had his eye on someone Willow might not know, well. Xander thought maybe he'd better give the vampire a night to calm down. That way they could speak calmly and rationally before they cleared up what was between them, and so segue much more comfortably into a mutually satisfying groping session.

It really was the best plan, he thought with some relief as he shut the door behind him and took a deep breath.

At least, it would have been a great plan if Spike wasn't already in his apartment.

As Spike stalked slowly closer, Xander scrabbled at the door a little before he got himself to stand straight and let out a nonchalant cough. "Spike. Hey there. Uh. How did you get in?"

Spike shrugged. "Spare key." He took another step, narrowing his eyes as he moved.

"I don't have a spare key," Xander said in confusion.

"Well, you've got one now."

"Um. Thanks?"

"Heard your date didn't end like you wanted," Spike continued with a scowl.

"Well, that all depends on how you define 'want'," Xander stalled, then backed up with a start when Spike took that last step forward and leaned his palm flat to the right of Xander's ear.

A low rumble came from Spike's chest. "Didn't bother you one bit when his back-up date showed, then. Must have a Plan B of your own, I'd wager. Maybe you've already lined up someone new."

Xander's mind raced. Well, more like it limped along while he shouted, "Faster, stupid, faster!" from the sidelines. The best thought he could muster was how very blue Spike's eyes were this close, but instead of blurting that out he managed to clear his throat.

"No. No one new -- well, not exactly. I mean, Mark is great." He tried to get his mouth moving on a not-Mark-related topic, but he wasn't sure how to change it to a Spike-related topic without sounding like a moron, so the weirdness just kept right on tumbling out. "You know, nice person, maker of cultural-event-type dating plans, good kiss-- um, good veterinarian. It's not like I've been scoping out new prospects this whole time or anything." He laughed weakly.

"Really." Spike moved a hair's breadth closer. "You weren't rushing back here to phone some new bloke?"

Xander rushed ahead. "Well, I was still getting used to the whole man-dating scenario the couple of times I saw Mark. And Mark was . . . kind of safe, you know?"

"Safe, eh?" Spike asked in a hoarse voice.

Xander’s stomach did that flip-flop thing, and a shiver went up his back. "Oh!" he said in surprise, and then Spike’s mouth was on his, soft and slow but demanding all the same.

"Oh," Xander said again when Spike pulled back. Spike’s eyes were narrowed again, this time half wariness, and half sexy look. Before Xander knew it, he was the one leaning forward to press their lips together.

"You’re not thinking about that . . . veterinarian while we’re doing this, are you?" Spike asked when they parted.

Xander licked his lips and flicked his gaze up and down Spike’s tight black t-shirt, before glancing up to Spike's angular face and full lips. "Um. What?" he croaked in confusion.

Spike smirked and they kissed again, until one kiss blended into another, until one of Xander's hands grabbed Spike's hip to pull him closer, and the other reached up so his fingers could thread through Spike's hair.

Spike shifted to bite at Xander's ear-lobe and whispered, "Want to take this somewhere more comfortable?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." Xander did a rapid mind check of the various available horizontal surfaces and finally went for the most obvious. "Um, bed?"

Spike grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the bedroom.

"Wait, wait," Xander panted. "I just realized --" He skidded to a halt, tugging Spike to a stop beside him. "So obviously you're a big eavesdropper, since you heard all my date details while I was telling Willow. But now I'm guessing Willow and Buffy know you were headed over here, since you took off while they were there, and oh god, they probably know what we're about to do, and can there be nothing in my developing gay identity that's not town-wide knowledge?"

Spike coaxed him close just in front of the door frame. "Don't know if they know. Don't care."

"Oh, they know, even if I thought I could throw them off the trail, those way-too-smart conspiring --" Xander stopped. "Hey. Wait. Willow said they didn't find anything on patrol again. It's been a really long time since any oogly-booglies went raowr at us in the night. That wouldn't have anything to do with you, would it?"

The corners of Spike's mouth quirked upward while he slipped his hands down to slide into Xander's back pockets. "Might have. Why?"

Xander tried to remember why through the haze permeating his brain now that Spike was pressing up against him. "Just, Buffy hasn't been finding anything on patrol for weeks and weeks, and --"

"Fine, so while I was waiting for you to come around, I may have been a bit bored," Spike interrupted. "Had to do something with my time." He tried to nudge Xander forward.

Xander stared, and then grinned widely. "That's kind of cute, in a weird vampiric-values sort of way. Wait," he said again when Spike attempted to maneuver them into the bedroom. "And Odo?"

"Odo what?" Spike asked impatiently.

"Well, now that we're coming clean on everything, were you or were you not the one that let Odo into the Magic Box? Giles couldn't figure out how he snuck in, and when I looked for points of entry, there were a total of zero ways he could have wiggled inside."

"Don't know anything about that," Spike said, but he looked past Xander's head when he said it.

"Oh my god," Xander said in a shocked voice. "Odo wasn’t part of your poker winnings, was he?"

Spike's expression went from lustful to indignant in a half second. "No! Like I would have won a kitten like that and not anted him up again right away. No, I found him out in the alley one night; thought it’d be fun to see it annoy the Watcher and mess about in the shop."

"Okay, so my kitten is poker-valuable. Somehow, not so reassuring. But you still could have bet him in a game instead of putting him inside The Magic Box. How come you didn't?"

Spike shot Xander an angry look. "I took a shine to him, all right?"

"And bought him a kitty condo," Xander reminded him. "Not to mention giving him his cuddly friend Mr. Tiger. You know, I'm starting to think maybe you guessed I'd like Odo, and that was the real reason you decided not to take him along to a game --"

"Pet," Spike said in a dangerous voice. "I'm starting to think you're avoiding the matter at hand."

"Me?" Xander glanced down to find they were now an inch inside the bedroom. "Why, I'm the most un-avoid-y guy you'd ever want to meet. Me, avoiding things. That's crazy talk." He tried to take a step back.

"Don't you worry, love," Spike whispered, nuzzling his neck. "I'll go slow. Know it's your first time with a man and all, aside from just snogging."

Xander clutched at Spike's shoulders and tilted his head back to help things along when Spike's smug tone filtered into his consciousness. "Why do I get the feeling that you're way too pleased about being the first guy?"

Spike gave him an unrepentant grin.

"And here different people thought I had the hots for Giles or for Mark," Xander commented.

"Giles?" Spike's eyes narrowed.

Xander laughed and let his hands move down Spike's arms to meet and twine around his middle. "No, no Giles-lusting whatsoever. More like, who knew that in the end I'd be facing up to liking guys because of you?"

Spike snorted. "Me. I knew you’d come around, though I didn’t think it would take you this long."

Apparently Spike had tired of the delays, because he pulled Xander into another one of those teasing hot kisses, and, while Xander was trying his manful best not to squirm against Spike to get closer, backed him up until he hit the mattress and ended up sprawled across it.

Xander gasped, and then lifted a shaky finger at the ceiling. "That’s damn arrogant; you saying you knew from the start I'd figure out you were the one for me, and totally off base. And if I didn’t find that overconfidence incredibly hot right now, I’d so be taking you to task for it."

Spike gave him a grin and then -- there was no other way to describe it -- cat-crawled up him, stretching his body over Xander’s and twisting his hips in a slow, deliberate motion that made Xander say things like "Oh god," and "Gah" and "Bleerble…"

Time passed in a blur of lips and hands, buttons and zippers, soft sounds and low moans.

Then Xander looked up and yelped.

On the dresser sat Odo, eyes wide, tail bushy, and obviously fascinated with the show displayed on the bed.

"God, he’s watching us!" Xander froze. "I'm sorry, but that’s way too weird."

"Ignore it," Spike muttered. He dipped his head to Xander's now-bare chest and licked up the middle.

"I can’t --" Xander wriggled as if to move away. "He’s all worked up! I mean, look at him! It’s freaky."

Spike laughed and then looked over his shoulder. "Hey," he said sharply. "Off with you."

Odo didn't budge.

After a pause, Spike made a funny snickering growl, a sound that got Xander to bite his lip and jerk his hips up without thinking, and got Odo to jump to the floor and mince out of the room.

"How’d you do that?" Xander asked in wonder. "It’s like you speak cat."

Spike looked at him with an eyebrow arched. "Maybe he speaks vampire."

"Right," Xander said in distraction as he ran his fingers up and down Spike’s arms. "Anyway, uh. He’s gone now." He pushed his hips up a little, trying not to freak out about the fact that all that now separated them were Xander's boxers and Spike's utter lack of undergarments.

"Why, pet," Spike said in a gravelly voice. He moved his hips against Xander again, smiling when Xander panted and pushed against him. "Being awfully bold, aren’t you? Looks like you've really come around at last."

Xander forced his eyes to focus, and felt his cheeks burning as he nodded. It was pretty obvious he'd finally worked out the right guy for him was the vampire currently on top of him.

Seeing as how he was already flushed and panting and getting compliments for being bold he figured he might as well go for the gusto. "Spike, um . . . while we keep on . . . you know . . . can you do that growling thing again?"