"Has anyone ever told you how good you look spattered in blue paint?" a husky voice purred in Xander's ear.

Xander jumped, nearly putting out a hand to steady himself on the wall before remembering just in time that it was covered in wet paint, and turned, gesturing with his paint brush. "Don't do that! I almost got paint all over the trim!"

Looking far too unconcerned about the closely averted disaster for Xander's liking, Spike took a step back to avoid the brush. "Good thing all that patrolling's sharpened your reflexes, isn't it?"

"Spike," Xander said, his voice holding a note of frustration.

"Anyway, I thought you were done," Spike said airily. "You were nearly finished when I left."

"I was just doing the last bit of touch-up around the window," Xander explained. He looked back to examine his work and found nothing else that caught his eye. "Which I guess is done."

"So put down the paint brush and give me a proper hello."

Xander rested the brush on the upside-down lid of the can and used a paper towel to wipe the wet paint off of his hands before he stepped into Spike's embrace. The vampire was cool from his time in the night air, but the familiar contours of his body made Xander feel warm inside.

"Hello, pet," Spike murmured after a lengthy kiss.

"Hi, yourself." As they kissed again, Xander became increasingly aware of something long and hard pressing into his hip. "Is that a bottle in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he asked.

Spike smirked and tilted his hips forward. "Bit of both."

Not quite so easily distracted, Xander reached down to palm the object in the pocket of Spike's duster. "You went out to pick up a pizza. What's that?"

Spike pulled out a small bottle of what looked like champagne from his pocket. "Something bubbly. To celebrate."

Xander took the bottle, his eyes widening as he read the label. "Wow. This is good stuff. Where did you... It's stolen. Tell me it isn't stolen."

"It isn't stolen," Spike repeated dutifully, which didn't make Xander feel better in the slightest.

"Oh, great, our first night in our apartment, and it's already hiding stolen goods."

"It isn't stolen."

"Then where'd you get it?" Xander asked.

"Traded in a couple of kittens I found in the alley," Spike replied with a little shrug.

Xander couldn't decide whether to stare at the bottle or at Spike, so he ended up looking back and forth between the two. "You bought this with kittens?"

Spike nodded. "One of 'em was Siamese," he said, as though it explained everything.

"I think this ranks up there with how you can eat so much food but never go to the bathroom in the list of things I really don't want to know about," Xander said.

"Probably for the best." Spike slid off his duster, tossing it over the arm of one of the chairs pushed into the center of the room in preparation for the walls being painted. "Want some dinner?"

"Does champagne go with pepperoni and black olive pizza?"

Taking the bottle, Spike said, "Champagne goes with everything."

Xander followed Spike to the little kitchenette that took up one corner of the main living area. Washing his hands, he looked at the mess of boxes around them. "I guess we'll be drinking it right out of the bottle; I still haven't found the box with our glasses. Not like you're supposed to drink good champagne out of collectible Star Trek juice glasses, anyway."

Wordlessly, Spike reached into his pocket and produced a pair of plastic champagne flutes like Xander had seen at his Uncle Rory's third wedding, the one to the exotic dancer. Bambi, or was it Barbie? Xander couldn't remember; the marriage had barely lasted longer than it had taken to throw away all of the glasses afterwards.

"Did you trade a tabby for them?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Spike scoffed, beginning to untwist the wire guard on the cork. "It was two tabbies."

Xander just shook his head and opened the pizza box resting on the top of the stove. He picked off a piece of sliced olive and popped it in his mouth. "So what's up with the chasing of kittens?" he asked. "I know I gave you enough money to buy soda."

"I thought it'd be nice to have champagne. Celebratory." Spike popped the cork out of the bottle with surprising restraint, only a thin fizz of vapor pouring out. "Like you said, it's our first night."

He looked a little defensive as he poured the sparkling wine into the glasses, and Xander stepped in behind him, wrapping his arms around the vampire's slim waist. "It is nice. Thank you."

Spike turned in Xander's embrace and handed him one of the glasses. He raised his own. "To our new flat. It might be small and have a draft in the bedroom strong enough to knock the little piggies' houses down -"

"Which I'll plug tomorrow," Xander interjected.

"- and Superman sheets on the bed -"

"... after I find the box with the real sheets."

"- but it's ours," Spike finished, and Xander could see the contentment in his eyes. "It's home."

"Home," Xander echoed, smiling, and tapped his glass against Spike's with a dull, plastic thunk.

The flavors of good champagne and mediocre pizza mingled in their kisses that night, and the Superman sheets didn't seem to bother them at all once the lights were off.

~end~