The Desoto careened into the silly Welcome to Sunnydale sign that Spike always hated. He fell out of the car, gaining his feet unsteadily among the detritus of his alcoholic binge that spilled from the car. "Hmmph. Meant to do that!" he growled to whomever might have been around. Couldn't have the Big Bad looking like a drunken idiot, now could we? No. That sort of thing wouldn't do at all! He kicked at the myriad of bottles, catching the sloshing of one that was still half full. He snatched that bottle up and started to stomp off into the night. "Gonna find a way to get her back, I bloody swear it."

"Oh, looky here Willow! Spike's back in town!" Xander and Willow trudged up to the wrecked Sunnydale sign and a startled Spike.

"What the? I thought I staked you, whelp!" He looked confusedly around. "No wait, this is the start." He grinned. "Watcher must have pulled it off. Good on you Giles!" Then he truly noticed the couple standing before him. "Oh, don't get yer knickers in twist, you lot. I'll be heading out shortly."

Xander and Willow stood shocked into silence. They shared a `what the fuck was that all about look' and Xander shrugged. "Whatever, Spike. I'm sure Buff would like to know you're back in town. God knows she never get a change to stake you properly for your help with Angelus last summer."

"You mean thank me properly, don't you pet?"

"Nope, oh bleached fanged wonder. I meant staked." Xander grinned. Then his grin was wiped off his face as Spike seemed to fly into him, stopping just short of knocking into him.

"Oh, pet. The things I know about you know. I ever tell you what happens to you, the person you are, when you're turned?"

Xander shuddered at the seductive quality of Spike's voice. "N.. No. No, you've never said."

"Oh pet. All your deepest darkest, basest desires - the things you don't talk about to your friends or at parties - come to the fore. They inform the demon that inhabits your body. So all the things you want, you love, you crave as a human become what you want, love and crave as a demon." He grinned and looked Xander over through shrouded eyes. "I've met demon you, Xander. So don't for one minute think I believe all the shit you toss off my way." He jerked back from Xander to look at Willow.

"And you Red? You are one crazy, daft, wretched bint." He nodded smugly, "You make a damn fine demon."

He stalked off, presumably to garner more whiskey and cigs, but really just to laugh in glee at the astounded faces of the scoobies behind him. Oh priceless! The aroused pheromones wafting off the whelp had been delicious. Oh, sex and fear was always a good combination as far as Spike was concerned. Yeah, he'd wait for the whelp to come to his senses. Either come to his senses, or come to find Spike. The vampire smiled at the prospect.

"He didn't mean it, Willow. You do not make, nor would you make a good demon! You're much too sweet tempered and good natured to be the evil undead." Xander hugged her close. "Trust me, I know these things. I am the XanMan."

"And all that stuff he said about you, Xander? Not true. If who you are, basically, informs the demon you become, then you are going to be the coolest, sweetest, most innocent demon on the face of the hellmouth. I guarantee it." Willow reassured him.

They let go of each other and continued their patrol. Neither willing to acknowledge just how close to the mark Spike had been.

ONE YEAR LATER

Spike sat, sprawled in the chair in his dead room - cuz what self respecting vamp would have a living room? - watching his shows on the telly. His stomach growled lowly, so he stood up and moved into the makeshift kitchen where he had a small fridge filled with blood, a microwave and a hotplate, all hooked to illegal electricity.

He had just heard the ping on the microwave letting him know his blood was ready when he heard someone approaching his crypt. He set the cup down and stood silently, scenting the air around him. When he realized who it was, he smiled softly to himself.

The booming crash of the door bouncing off its hinges startled the vampire. "Dammit, whelp! What the hell did you slam in here for?? I nearly spilt all me blood, and I don't have to tell you how much I don't like wasting beverages do I?"

Xander had the temerity to look embarrassed. "Sorry Spike. I just thought I'd give it a try, you know, Slayer like? I mean, you let Buffy do it all the time."

"I don't let that bint do anything, pet. Got no control over what she does, and dammit that still pisses me off. So thank you for that reminder that I am no longer among the strongest and most intimidating of demons. Why don't you just tear the heart out of my chest, and poor salt into the gaping hole?"

"Umm, ok. Eeeew. I did have a reason for coming here, and you being Mr. Broodypants is not making it easier. Not that I think you should, but you know? You bored, and me here to possibly entertain you, because once you hear what I have to say, you're definitely going to be laughing, I mean, I didn't, couldn't stop laughing when I finally thought it-"

Spike just gaped at him. "Xander!"

Xander stopped in mid babble.

"Breathe, boy."

"Sorry."

"What do you have to say?" Spike sipped his blood, trying to be non threatening.

Xander appreciated the approach to normalcy, but the drinking of the blood was still nerve wracking. "Oh well. See. It's like....I mean, I think I want...No that's not right."

"Damn boy! Just say it." Spike frowned at him. "What. Did. You. Want?"

Ok. Here goes. "You said you met demon me?"

"Yeah?"

"You said our basest desires inform the demon we become."

"Yeah?"

"You said you know me."

"Yeah. And?"

Spike watched as Xander moved slowly across the crypt floor. He smelled the arousal, the fear, the uncertainty. He remembered the conversation Xander was talking about and tilted his head. What's he on about now?

Xander reached Spike looked into questioning azure eyes. "I want to know, Spike. Show me what you know about me."

Please feed the chicky!