A knock sounded on the front door of the apartment. No one moved. A minute passed, and the knocking came again.

Spike glanced up from his book and looked across the couch at Wesley, who was too wrapped up in his research about something or other that Spike hadn't paid much attention to except that he'd get to hit somebody at the end of it to notice the interruption. The cat - still unnamed a month on (the latest suggestions were, from Wesley, Marmalade and, from Spike, in response, Whole Wheat Toast) - didn't even flick an ear as she continued to wash her paw on her perch on the arm of the sofa next to Wesley.

"Guess it's my turn," Spike muttered under his breath. With a sigh, he untucked his bare toes from beneath Wesley's thigh and got up off of the couch.

When he opened the door, he found a uniformed messenger on the other side of it.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?" the man asked.

Spike glanced over at Wesley, who hadn't stirred except to turn the page, and shrugged. "Sure." Tucking his book under his arm, he scrawled something rude but illegible on the messenger's clipboard and accepted a thick envelope addressed in precise black handwriting to 'Spike c/o Mr. W. Wyndam-Pryce.'

With a brief nod of thanks, Spike shut the door and returned to the couch, setting his book down. Given the return address of 'R. Giles,' he had a pretty good idea of what might be inside of the envelope, and he pulled on the marked tab with some excitement. The tab tore before it could do its job and open the package, so he swore under his breath and ripped the envelope the rest of the way.

He tipped it over his lap, and out slid a slew of paperwork, including a British passport, a drivers' license, medical records, and even a Green Card. He picked up the drivers' license and was surprised to see himself looking at the viewer with a grin full of promise; he hadn't expected Giles to select that image out of all of the pictures Wesley had taken of him. He wondered idly if Buffy or Dawn had had a hand in the decision, but he was more taken with reading the official writing on the card itself. He touched it with the tip of his finger.

Wesley shut his book and glanced over as he reached down for the next volume sitting on the floor at his feet. "What's that?" he asked with a faint, confused frown.

"Got a package from Rupert. Had the delivery guy in for dinner, too. Didn't you notice?" Spike asked.

"From Giles?" Wesley asked, ignoring the rest of Spike's comment. He was getting quite good at sidestepping Spike's teasing, which left Spike both feeling oddly comfortable and wondering whether he should be trying harder.

"Yeah. He sent me that paperwork." Spike fished the passport out of the pile and held it up.

His expression shuttering, Wesley looked down at the book he had picked up. "Oh." He sat back and opened it to the first page. "Good. How nice of him to send it on so quickly."

Spike didn't believe Wesley's front of indifference for a moment. While Wesley had agreed that the documents would be useful to have, Spike knew that he thought that they were the first step in getting Spike to agree to visit the Council in England. It was becoming extremely hard not to take it personally when Wesley continued not to believe him when he said he wasn't planning on going and if he ever had to he'd return as fast as he could.

"It's a nice picture," Spike said, wiggling the passport. If he could just get Wesley's attention, maybe they'd both feel better.

Not looking up, Wesley attempted a smile, although Spike didn't believe it, either. "All of them were. You're very photogenic."

"Want to see the finished product?"

Wesley glanced over politely at the open passport and then went back to his book. "Very nice."

Spike sighed. "Look at it."

"I did," Wesley replied.

"Wesley." The name came out in something of an exasperated growl.

Closing his book, Wesley turned his full attention to the document in Spike's hands. "Very..." He blinked, looked more closely, and then took the passport and stared at it, shock transforming his features. "What did..."

"Had to pick a name, didn't I?" There was a sudden lump in Spike's throat. "Can't go 'round like some one-named poof like Angel or Sting."

Wesley didn't say anything; instead he just frowned at the passport, his brow furrowing.

Spike's heart sank. "I thought about picking Spike Giles or Rupert Jr., just to drive him mad, but I don't want to even pretend to be related to him." He paused, and his voice was quieter as he said, "Should I have just done the obvious and gone with Lee, then? Or Jones?"

"No," Wesley said with a fervor that surprised Spike. "No. I'm just... I didn't expect..."

"William Pryce. Got a nice ring, doesn't it? Less of a mouthful than William Wyndam-Pryce. Though there's something to be said for getting to watch people stumble over a tongue-twister." Spike's smile was nearly as forced as Wesley's had been earlier.

"I've never been all that fond of it, myself," Wesley commented, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the passport, "but perhaps that's because of who gave it to me."

Wesley still wasn't looking at him, and Spike had this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had made the wrong choice. Despite what they'd gone through, they hadn't been together all that long, and perhaps sharing Wesley's name, even on something as largely insignificant as his fake documentation, was too much. They both used the words 'forever' and 'always,' but saying them wasn't really the same thing as seeing proof that your partner could actually mean it.

"Anyway," Spike said, plucking the passport from Wesley's loose grasp, "I couldn't think of any other name I wanted."

"And you wanted mine?" Wesley asked.

"I want you." No longer able to stand the sight of them, Spike shoved the documents back into the envelope. "Poncy name and all."

Wesley finally turned his blue eyes - large and stunned - on him. "This is... Thank you."

Spike's laugh was humorless as he tossed the envelope on the table beside him. He felt a flair of petty satisfaction when the cat jumped off of the couch at the noise. "Don't thank me for something you're obviously not happy about."

"Spike." Wesley touched Spike's arm before the vampire could get up. "I'm not unhappy; I was just surprised."

"Yeah." Spike sighed the word. The sense of rightness that had filled him when seeing the name in print had fled, leaving him feeling unsettled and well on his way to miserable. "Well, it's not like it means anything."

"It does," Wesley said, turning in his seat. Spike couldn't help but meet his gaze. "I know the documents aren't actually legal, but you still chose my name to put on them."

Spike nodded, and Wesley slid his hand down his arm to twine their fingers together.

"That means something," Wesley said, looking gravely into Spike's eyes. "Doesn't it?"

There was a brief pause before Spike bit the bullet and nodded again. "I thought it might be a little reminder for you that if I do go somewhere - " He saw the unhappiness beginning to creep into Wesley's expression. "- which I'm not - there's no way I can forget where I belong."

Wesley leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. "Then that means quite a lot," he said, pulling back just far enough that they could see the other's face.

"You're sure you're all right with it?" Spike asked quietly, searching Wesley's eyes. "It's no trouble for me to ask Rupert for something different."

"But quite a lot of trouble for him, I expect." Wesley smiled and shook his head. "I'm far more than simply all right with it." He brought his other hand up to cup Spike's face and kissed him again, this time longer and more deeply. "I think," he said, "I'd like to show you exactly how I feel about it." The slight huskiness in his voice and the brightness of his eyes were sure signs of his emotion, and Spike found himself smiling, his concern melting away.

"What about the research?" he asked, fully prepared to throw Wesley over his shoulder and carry him to the bedroom if Wesley actually took the bait.

"It can wait." And then Wesley pushed him possessively back against the arm of the couch, and Spike found himself being kissed in earnest.

Though Wesley called him 'Mr. Pryce' with a delighted smile as he deftly removed their clothing and covered his body with kisses, it was still 'Spike' he murmured after licking the vampire's cock clean from his first orgasm and the same again as he fucked Spike thoroughly into the cushions.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll get a library card with my name on it so you can show me how you feel about that," Spike said muzzily as Wesley collapsed on top of him. His head spun with the effects of two climaxes and boundless contentment.

Wesley gently caressed Spike's shoulder and leaned in to kiss him again. "I don't think I'll be letting you out of my reach for a few days as it is, love," he said.

And that was the best name of all.

~end~