Curse of the Grape Slurpee


by Saber ShadowKitten
Tiny Smiles 7






The creator of the sweet concoction known as the Slurpee should be shot.

Xander was trying desperately to stay on the road while Spike slurped and sucked and crunched his grape Slurpee. The vampire's lips and tongue were stained deep purple from the dark syrup used in the icy treat. Xander wanted to pull over and ravish that more-than-likely grape-flavored mouth.

Spike put the cup to his purple lips and tilted it up. A second later, he was swearing and glaring at the contents of the cup. A bit of colored ice clung to the tip of his nose.

Xander was going to find the Slurpee inventor and kill him. If he was already dead, Xander would dig him up and kill him again.

Somehow, the brunette managed to navigate through Sunnydale to the new apartment without an accident. The Purple People Eater was smacking his lips when they pulled into the parking lot, the cup in his hand [finally] empty.

"We're here," Xander said in a huskier-than-normal voice. He concentrated on methodically shutting down the car. [Gear lever to park. Don't kiss Spike. Radio off. Don't kiss Spike. Lights off. Don't kiss Spike. Ignition off. Don't kiss Spike. Trunk popped. Don't kiss Spike. Get out of the car. Don't kiss Spike.]

Xander repeated his mantra as he quickly moved to the trunk and loaded his arms with blue Wal-Mart shopping bags. At least in the car there had been a pile of tapes and garbage between them on the seats. Now, it would be so easy to grab Spike and suck and lick the purple stain from his lips and tongue. [Damn you, grape Slurpee creator!]

"This is us," Xander croaked as he led the way into one of several brownstone-like buildings grouped around the well-lit parking lot. The front door opened into a small foyer with thread-bare carpeting and faux-gold mailboxes on the wall. A set of stairs leading up was across from the mailboxes, while straight ahead were the stairs heading down to the basement apartment.

Xander continued through the foyer and down the stairs, with Slurpee Lips at his heels. At the bottom of the steps were two black doors, one with a utility sign on it and the other with the letter 'D' posted above a door-knocker. Xander gestured to the lettered door with his chin. "You'll have to use your key. My hands are kind of full."

Spike practically vibrated with anticipation as he fitted his key in the lock. The door swung inwards, and the blond stood on the threshold and stared into the darkened apartment. Xander leaned closer to him. "It's even less impressive once you go inside," he joked.

Spike turned to Xander, his blue eyes brimming with excitement. "You still have to invite me in, mate."

"You, Spike, are always welcome in where I live," Xander said. The words were barely out of his mouth when Spike darted into the apartment. [Was that a squeal I just heard?] The brunette shook his head in amusement and followed more leisurely.

The apartment wasn't grand, but it wasn't the Harris basement, either. A not-too-small living room was separated from an average-sized kitchen by a free-standing counter. A short hallway led to a normal apartment-sized bathroom and the single bedroom. A closet with accordion doors hid the water heater and furnace from view.

Spike skipped out of the bedroom, grinning a purple-toothed grin. Xander silently groaned as he set the bags on the counter. Spike's large smile was almost as devastating as his tiny ones. Almost.

"So, what do you think?" Xander asked.

"Well, it's not the Taj Mahal, but it'll do for now."

Xander rolled his eyes and headed for the door again. "I'll get the rest of the stuff from the car, then this place needs to be thoroughly cleaned. There are things growing in here that are scarier than you."

"Sounds like a plan," Spike said, removing his duster. "I'll get started."

Spike, the cleaning maid. Xander's perverted brain immediately provided pictures. Graphic pictures. Pictures of Spike in a frilly apron and nothing else, holding a feather duster, still with purple lips and tongue.

Xander fled.

"I have got to get myself under control," the brunette muttered as he traipsed back to the Bel Air. Cherry boys were not put on Earth to be jumped by savage, horny brutes with only their own pleasure in mind. No, virgins were meant to be savored, like the last chocolat liquer in the box. They were meant to be enticed by the idea of giving themselves to another man, and when the cherry desired to be plucked, they were to be led slowly down the path of debauchery, all the while relishing in their guileless responses to being touched.

If Xander didn't reign in his raging hormones, he stood the chance of scaring Spike off completely. He didn't want the vampire afraid of him for any reason, least of all because he couldn't keep it in his pants. He was fairly certain Spike was attracted to him, which meant treading softly into seduction territory, not roaring in like a rampaging bull.

What he needed was a dose of good old fashioned manual labor. Cleaning the apartment would help. He would scrub the naughty Spike thoughts right out of his head. [Ha!]

"Lick, kiss, bite, suck," Spike was singing when Xander re-entered the apartment. The vampire was using a sponge on the kitchen sink, an open bottle of Mr. Clean beside him. "Shut up, bitch, I just want to fuck..."

"Spike, your choice of song leaves much to be desired," Xander commented, setting the remainder of the Wal-Mart bags on the counter. [Unless you replace 'bitch' with 'Xander'...]

"S'better than that country crap you listen to."

"Uh-huh." Xander shed his winter coat, grabbed a sponge and the bathroom cleaner, and headed for the bathroom. "You keep serenading the bald guy. I'm sure he'll appreciate it more than me."

The bathroom was creepy, but with sexual frustration fueling Xander's attack on dirt and mildew, everything sparkled and shined so much it was blinding. Xander could even see his reflection in the toilet water. The manual labor cure had worked; he no longer felt so out of control. [Locking the door and jacking off twice had helped, too.]

The kitchen was clean and Spike was working in the living room when Xander went to check on him. The brunette exchanged the bathroom cleaner for the general cleaner, then went to start on the bedroom.

The room was small, but it was an actual bedroom with its own window. Xander frowned at the window. Though the sunlight didn't really shine through it, it would be better to be safe than sorry and put curtains up. Same with the other two windows in the living room. Xander made a mental note to pick up some black-out curtains when he and Buffy went to Wal-Mart in the morning. [Which she doesn't know she's doing.]

The brunette glanced at his watch. It was getting late, but since it was Friday, Buffy would still be out and about. He didn't have a phone at the apartment yet, which meant he had to jog to the gas station and use the payphone. He doubted his neighbors would appreciate a strange man knocking at this hour to use their phones. [Besides, food!]

"Hey, fugly," Xander called as he exited the bedroom. "I'm heading down to the gas station to call Buffy and pick up some munchies. You want anything?"

Spike set down his sponge, sat back on his heels, and clapped his wet hands on his knees. "Do they have Slurpees?" he asked with a hopeful purple smile.

[Whimper.] "Possibly," Xander replied. "If not, I'm sure they have an Icee machine. They're similar to Slurpees." He grabbed his coat and slid it on as he headed for the door. "Be back soon-like."

"Be careful."

Xander paused with his hand on the knob and looked back at Spike. The blond's head was down and he was meticulously scrubbing at a spot on the floor. Xander smiled a tiny smile similar to one of Spike's, and with a bounce to his step, left the apartment.

*****

A cherry Icee was as deadly as a grape Slurpee to Xander's libido.

Xander had high-tailed it out of the apartment as soon as it was clean. Spike had decided to stay there for awhile, something Xander had no objection over. It had given the brunette an opportunity to spank the monkey for the third time without worry of being interrupted.

Morning rolled around, and Xander was busy packing up his belongings for the move. However, his mind wasn't focused on the fact that he was finally leaving the Harris Hellhole. Spike hadn't returned the night before and Xander was a lot worried about him, despite the fact that Spike had taken care of himself for at least a hundred years. [He's mine now, so I have the right to worry.]

Mine?

Xander dropped his head on the box in front of him and groaned. Super, he was having possessive feelings about Spike. Not that he wasn't already having them before, but... mine??

"Ding dong, the witch is here!" Willow sang as she and Buffy cheerily came down the stairs. "And I brought the muscle with me, as requested."

"Howdy, girls," Xander said, pasting a falsely happy smile on his face. "Are you two ready to participate in the Xander Harris production of Chicken Run?"

"Is Mel Gibson in it?" Buffy asked.

"Sorry," Xander shook his head, "No Mel, just me."

"You're cuter anyway," Willow said, giving him a brief hug. She looked around the semi-packed basement. "So, what do you want us to do? And where's Spike? I thought he was living with you."

"Spike didn't come back last night," Xander said, swallowing back the worry.

"Maybe he finally got himself dusted," Buffy said offhandedly, poking her nose into an open box.

Xander paled. "Don't say that."

Willow frowned at him. "You okay? You're looking kinda Casperish."

"I'm fine," Xander lied. Just because Spike hadn't returned, didn't mean he was dust. If he was unalive, he was probably holed up somewhere until the sun went down. If midnight came and Xander still hadn't seen or heard from Spike, then he'd worry. Until then, it was moving day.

"Oh, hey, my mom let me borrow her Forerunner, so we can pack that up, too," Buffy said.

Xander shoved a hand through his shaggy hair. [Work now, panic later.] "That's great, Buffy," he said. "Why don't you start loading up the cars with boxes."

"No prob," Buffy said, picking up a stack of boxes.

"Willster, everything with a sticky-note is mine," Xander said. "Pack up the boxable stuff in boxes. The parentals said I could have the couch and the barcalounger, and the meecrowave is mine."

[Mine.]

Xander turned away from Willow and started packing again, trying to ignore the awful feeling in his stomach. [Spike, why did you have to make me care?]

It was nearing lunch by the time the two vehicles were packed full. After a quick stop through the drive-thru on the way to Wal-Mart, Willow babysat the cars while Xander and Buffy went to purchase the ready-to-assemble bunk beds. Xander had planned to put the top down on the Bel Air to transport the over-large bed kit, but with Buffy's mom's Forerunner, it was simply a matter of tying it to the roof for the ride to the new apartment.

"Oof," Xander grunted as the bunk bed box crushed him to the wall. "Buffy, you're squishing me."

"Sorry," Buffy called from up the stairs.

The box moved back and Xander was able to breathe again. He gave Willow a relieved look and she chuckled as she fit the key in the lock. "Out of one basement and into another. Xander, are you sure you don't have psychological problems?"

"Ha-ha," Xander said. Willow grinned, opened the apartment door and went inside. Xander adjusted his grip on the box. "Okay, Buffy." He started walking backwards, trying to maneuver the bulky box through the door. "Left. More left."

"Xander, why is Spike here?" Willow asked from behind him.

Xander's head whipped around and he almost dropped the box. His heart pounded first in hope, then in relief when his gaze landed on the blond vampire. [Thank you, thank you, thank you!]

Spike was curled up on the floor in the living room, his back to the door, using his duster as a pillow. His feet were bare, his boots and socks in a pile at his side. A paperback book was beside him with his new reading glasses resting on top. One of the lamps was plugged in and positioned by his head. Xander saw that Spike hadn't moved when they came in, which meant he must be sleeping soundly.

"Wills, the bedroom is the first door on the right," Xander said quietly. Willow gave him a funny look, but continued on to the bedroom. He followed her, the box suddenly very light in his hands. [My Spike's not dust! Rule!]

Buffy came through the door with her end of the box and spotted the vampire on the floor. Her brows shot up. "Spike?"

"Shh," Xander hushed. "He's sleeping."

Buffy frowned at him, but was quiet until they were in the bedroom. "Why is Spike here?" she asked as they set the box down.

"He must've stayed the night," Xander replied, crouching to open the kit. "Let's put the bed together, and I'll move him in here so he's out of the way."

"I don't think she means why Spike is sleeping here," Willow said. "I think she means why is Spike here at all. I'm wondering that myself."

"Like you said earlier, Spike lives with me, remember?" Xander said, passing the instructions to her. "Why wouldn't he move with me, too?"

Willow studied him. "Are you okay with that? I'm sure Giles would take him back."

"I'm abso-tively poso-lutely positive," Xander said patiently. [My vampire, grr. Stop trying to make him leave.]

Buffy began to remove parts from the box. "So that's why the bunk beds," she said. She grinned suddenly. "Spike is going to sleep in a bunk bed. Will he be wearing footy pajamas? For that matter, will you?"

Xander winked. "You'll just have to sleep with me to find out."

"Xander!"

With Willow acting as foreman -- and lots of laughter -- the bunk beds were assembled and futon-like mattresses were dressed with the sheets Xander had bought. The sheets were immediately messed up by the tickle fight that followed and had to be remade again before returning to work.

"Start bringing in the stuff from the cars," Xander instructed, trailing after Buffy and Willow out of the bedroom. "We'll put it all in the living room and I'll unpack it later."

"Got it," Buffy said, lugging the collapsed box with her as the two girls headed out of the apartment.

Even during the fun, in the back of his mind Xander had itched to check on Spike. The instant the girls were gone, Xander flew to Spike's side. He skimmed his hand along Spike's bare arm, intently studying the sleeping blond. Xander saw no visible injuries or new marks and slumped in relief. [Spike really had just fallen asleep here.]

Deciding not to wake him [and because I want an excuse to hold him,] Xander picked up the thumb-sucking blond and carried him to the bedroom. [He's lighter than Anya. And that's something I'll never say in her presence.] The brunette gently settled Spike on the bottom bunk and brushed a kiss against his forehead. [My bashful vampire.]

"I'm glad you're okay," Xander said softly, running his fingers against Spike's cheek. He pressed another kiss to Spike's forehead and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

*****

The two cars were unpacked quickly and efficiently under Willow's directive, and the three friends returned to the Harris residence for the second and final load. Giles's sudden appearance was a surprise, until Willow admitted that she called the Watcher and told him about the move. Instead of taking three cars to the new apartment, it was laughingly suggested that Giles ride on the couch tied to the top of the Forerunner. Giles politely declined.

Hysterical laughter accompanied the old friends as they tried to get the couch through Xander's apartment door. Giles volunteered to retrieve his chainsaw in a brief glimpse of humor from the Watcher. They decided to attempt the tried and true method of pushing really, really hard before getting out the big guns. With a collective "One, two, three, push!", the couch flew through the door and across the room, coming to a stop with a loud screech inches from the far wall.

"Here's a good place for it," Buffy giggled, tossing the cushions onto the sofa.

"Put the chair there," Willow said, pointing to the spot beside the sofa, "and the tv over there, and it'll be all comfy-cosy-like."

"Hmm, maybe," Xander said, taking the television remote from his pocket and sticking it between the arm of the couch and the cushion. Can't lose that important piece of equipment.

"If you plan on having cable installed, your furniture positioning shall be limited," Giles commented. "Likewise, with the outlets."

"I have extension cords a-plenty," Xander said. "So I'm not too worried about that."

"It's bad to plug extension cords into other extension cords, Xander," Willow scolded. "It's a fire hazard. And besides..."

Willow trailed off, her red brow arching, and all eyes turned to where she was looking. A rumpled Spike padded into the room, his bare feet making light slaps on the wood floor. The mussy-haired blond vampire yawned widely and made childish sleepy noises as he rubbed his eyes with his fists. He wandered over to the couch, folded himself into a corner, and rested his cheek on the arm. He picked up the remote, aimed it at nothing and pressed a button. His hand fell back into his lap, then he was still.

[Could he be any more adorable?] Xander wondered, walking over Spike and taking the remote from him. Spike was sound asleep, as if he hadn't left the bed at all.

"Does he do this often?" Willow asked, wearing her 'aww' face.

"Everyday," Xander confirmed. [At least, everyday since I started paying attention to him.] "I don't even think he really wakes up when he moves. Didn't he do this at your place, Giles?"

"I guess," Giles said. "I tried to ignore him on the whole. Although I did find him asleep in front of the television on several occasions."

Buffy shuddered. "Eew, eew, eew! I'm having 'Spike is cute' thoughts."

"I think we should get back to unloading the motors," Giles said.

"Good idea," Buffy agreed, and the two hurried out of the apartment.

"I'm having 'Spike is cute' thoughts, too," Willow said. "Cute in a homicidal, evil way, that is."

Xander waited until Willow had left before lightly brushing Spike's hair off his forehead. "Yep, you're definitely cute in a homicidal, evil way, even with the purple and red lips."

Spike's eyes slowly opened and he gazed sleepily at Xander. A teeny-tiny smile pulled up the corners of the blond's lips. "Xan, hi."

"Hi," Xander repeated softly. "Are you going to join the land of the awake, or sleep some more?"

Spike's eyelids fluttered shut. "Sleep," he murmured.

"That's what I thought," Xander said.

The long lashes blinked open again and a hazy blue eyes pinned Xander. "I want to try the raspberry Slurpee next."

Xander swallowed. He had barely been able to restrain himself with Spike having purple lips and tongue. How the hell was he going to survive blue?



End