Not Just for Easter (PG-13ish)
Title: Not Just for Easter
Fandom: BtVS (Spike/Xander) Characters: Spike, Xander, Dawn
Prompt: tamingthemuse #299- commit, kinda_gay #7- Hold (and Grief, but I only just realised that) & kinda_gay pop culture challenge
Warnings: language, m/m kissage, that’s about it…
Rating: PG-13ish.
Summary: Easter during season 6. No Anya (I don’t like her). Dawn reflects on life with the boys and her request for an Easter present.
“No way. Not in a million years. No. Nada. Niet. Nein. Non. How many languages do you want it in?” Xander exclaimed, waving his arms to emphasise the point. Dawn would have laughed were it not for the scowl that Spike was wearing. For a not very tall guy, he could certainly be intimidating when he wanted to be. Right now, he was standing by Xander’s shoulder, looking menacing. If Dawn was being completely honest, she would have laughed at Spike too, but that would have been admitting to having a death wish.
And it wasn’t like she was asking for much. It wasn’t the huge deal Xander was making it out to be. One simple request. She had thought Spike would have seen reason, but he had just looked thoughtful for a while then told her to ask Xander what he thought. That little exchange had been so reminiscent of her dad telling her to ‘ask your mother’ when she had asked for a puppy, that Dawn had felt content for a while. With Buffy gone, and Willow, Tara and Giles so busy all the time, Spike and Xander had gone from being her surrogate big brothers to her closest family now.
At first she had thought it was a little weird, given that she had had crushes on both of them at some point or another. Now she was glad they had found each other. They had shared their grief and that had forced them to put aside whatever problems they had with each other. None of them had expected Spike and Xander to get together. The memory of how she found out made her blush as much as it made her smile.
Spike and Xander, both drunk, losing a battle of wills with the front door and the key to it, breaking out in whispered giggles. They give up and knock, waiting to be let in. Dawn, rolling her eyes, going to let them in. The image of the two gorgeous men, sat on the front porch, oblivious to her presence, kissing like the world would end if they didn’t keep touching, keep holding each other, if they had to stop even to take a breath. Xander pushing off Spike’s duster and running his large, calloused palms down Spike’s back, fingers dipping into the back of his dark jeans; Spike’s fevered moan as Xander’s fingers dipped lower…
Dawn blinked, forcing herself to focus on Xander’s counter argument. He was still waving his arms around, saying… something.
“… It’s not a toy, Dawnie. It’s a living thing. It’s a ten year commitment. Are you prepared to commit to that?”
Dawn scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I am. And I’m not a kid. I don’t play with toys. I outgrew Barbie dolls years ago. I’m a mature, responsible, reliable teenager, so you don’t need to go all Spanish Inquisition on me,” she all but yelled, storming up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door, in a display that contradicted that whole ‘mature’ thing.
In the kitchen of the Summers’ residence, Xander let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. Spike slid his hand round the brunette’s waist. Xander narrowed his eyes at the blonde. “The Spanish Inquisition? When did you start introducing her to British comedy?”
Spike shrugged, but had the grace to look guilty for a second or two. “Oh, come on, pet. ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’. ‘S a classic, that.” He turned so that Xander was facing him, loving the feel of the larger man in his arms. Xander dipped his head, capturing Spike’s lips in a gentle kiss that spoke of all the love he felt. Breaking the kiss and resting his head against Spike’s, Xander sighed. Spike tightened his hold on Xander’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Maybe we should have just let her have the bloody bunny. ‘S got to be better than feeding her candy. And if she got bored with it, well… there’s always a poker game going on somewhere…”
“Spike!”