Period Of Adjustment

by
BmblBee

Part Six

"Patrick, it's just....just....amazing." Xander stood in the center of the master suite and let his gaze travel from the huge four poster bed to the antique clothes press, around by the brick fireplace and over to the doorway to the spacious master bath.

He had just spent the better part of two hours exploring the incredible, amazing mansion. Each room was a world of it's own, done in the style of exotic locations around the planet. Patrick had explained that his grandparents traveled extensively and wanted to surround themselves in the memories of all their favorite places. When his own parents and he lived there all the rooms were given a fresh coat of paint and the respect of restoration in a manner that his grandparents would have loved.

"It's like a palace. You should live here."

Patrick shook his head. "No. Too many memories. Besides the place is too much for two people and anyway I need to be close to my business. I can't be running across town twice a day. Now you, that's different. You can do your work here and just check in once a week or so for new projects. And the circle, just think how nice the dining room would be for your circle."

Xander nodded in agreement. He had noticed the large round claw foot table and heavy oak chairs. It would be wonderful. His own tiny apartment had been so cramped, yes, it really was perfect. "I don't know what to say, Patrick. Maybe we can try it for a short time. You give me a list of things that need fixed and we see how it goes."

Patrick pulled Xander into a tight hug, then kissed both his cheeks. "Wonderful! Wonderful! I can call the utility companies today and have the power and the water turned on. There are no televisions and no cable but we can have that put in later. It needs a lot of cleaning. I guess that would be first on my list. Maybe just do a room or two at a time. It's wonderful Xander. What do you think your policeman will think?"

Xander groaned. Spike. How the hell was he going to tell Spike? Xander knew his lover was extremely stressed right now and their relationship was still so new that he didn't want to do anything to scare him off. "Let me handle him. This is one of those situations that needs finesse, reasoning, sex and alcohol."

Patrick let out a whoop and a holler. "Looks like you got it covered. I won't ask for details."

~*~*~*~*~

Spike jumped at the feel of his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He had been sitting at this desk and preparing to leave for the
nursing home. He had his briefcase open and stocked with witness statement forms, investigators note slips and his handy digital camera.

Despite all the crime scene photos that the forensic guys take, Spike always found it helpful to take a few of his own. It helped him form his thoughts and ideas later to be able to look at the room, the area, the details.

Flipping it open with one hand, Spike never took his eyes off the file in front of him. "Detective Pratt. How can I help you?"

"You can help me with both hands and your tongue. Hey, Babe. How's it going? You busy? You see the shrink? He gonna release you back to work?"

Spike closed the brief case and snapped shut the latches as he balanced the small phone between his ear and shoulder. It always surprised him how much better he felt just hearing Xander's voice.

"Hey, Xan. I was just thinking about you. Yeah, I saw him. I think he's a homophobe, or just a jerk, I'm not sure which yet. Nay, he won't release me till he sees me again, but Giles did give me a case, sort of."

Xander was thrilled. Spike sounded more upbeat than he had in days. This might be easier than he thought.

"A case? Great! See, I told you they couldn't manage without you. Let's celebrate. Let's go out to dinner, then I have something to show you. I think I found us a place."

Spike frowned. A place? A place for what? Just as he was about to ask the question, he remembered his little hissy fit this morning and felt ashamed. He didn't think Xander would have taken him seriously. He sure didn't think Xander would have gone out and looked.

"Shit. I acted like a real horse's arse this morning didn't I? I'm sorry. I'm not saying I don't think we need more room, but if you're not ready to move....."

"No, no. You were right. I love my little apartment but it really isn't right for two people. Especially two people who need...ahem...a lot of movin' around space." Xander's chuckle warmed Spike's heart and filled his trousers with a warning tingle that said "uh oh, not now, stupid."

Spike reached down, intending to adjust himself he couldn't help but press his hand against his hardening erection and just slightly rock his hips toward the heat of his palm.

Xander gasped. In the short amount of time they had been together, Xander's ability to read Spike's emotions had sharpened and honed rapidly. "I can feel that, Spike." Xander's voice was now low, quiet and breathless. "I know what you want to do. I know what your body needs. You want to slide your hand down inside and feel the heat and hardness there don't you?"

Spike shuddered. Xander's gift no longer surprised or frightened him. Now he found it erotic as hell. He pictured Xander sitting in his little cubicle at work, covered in the sweet smell of saw dust, stroking himself slowly. "Talk to me, Xander. Tell me what you think I want." Spike wildly waved his hand signaling to a passing line officer to close his office door. He then settled back in his chair, smiling.

"I think you want me to come to your office. I would stop downstairs and ask for the man in charge. They would send me to you."

Spike slowly unzipped his trousers, his breathing becoming shallow and quick. "Yes, they would tell me to expect you. Just like the first day. Do you remember the first day you came to me, Xander?"

Xander smiled. He didn't need to be psychic to know where this should go. He sat down on the top step of the grand staircase, shifting his phone to his other hand. "I knock on your door. When you ask me in I'll shake your hand. You hold my hand while your eyes slide all the way down to the heavy, growing bulge in my pants."

Spike groaned. Fuck, that was so close to how it had happened. He pulled his cock out, feeling the wetness smear over the zipper as it passed. He opened his eyes just a slit to make sure there was no one outside his door then he laid his head back against the leather office chair and began the slow light stroking that Xander always started with.

"You ask me what I want and I say you. I want you. I tell you I'm psychic and I have been drawn to you. I know what's in your mind. Your secret desires. Your darkest thoughts."

Spike shivered. Part of him had always wondered if that was true. Right now most of him didn't care. His hand tightened as his cock grew even harder and leaked thick drops of early release. Spike snatched the cloth handkerchief out of his top desk drawer, since meeting Xander he kept one there at all times, and he wrapped it around the base of his cock. He spread his legs and stroked quicker.

Xander could hear Spike's breath coming in short pants and took pity on him. "There are people just outside your office door but you don't care. I come around your desk and pull down my jeans. You ask me what the hell I'm doing. But we both know, don't we? Then you can't argue. You stop denying what your body craves. You unzip and pull that hot, throbbing cock out for me to see. You shake it at me and ask if that's what I'm there for."

Spike's eyes rolled up in his head and he rocked causing the springs in his chair to squeak, squeak, squeak as he listened to Xander's deep, soft voice whisper in his ear. His only response was the repeating of his lover's last words. "My darkest thoughts. What you're there for. Yes. Yes."

"I lower my jeans and step out of them before straddling your lap and sinking down feeling that thick fat head pop through my ass into my hot body."

Spike's body tingled. As the picture burst into his brain he used his hand to squeeze his cock head, imagining it was forced through the tight ring of muscle. Envisioning his boy humping his lap, riding his fat cock.

"Oh, shit, it hurts, burns, but I can't stop, can't slow down, can't wait. I need it now, Spike I need to feel it NOW!"

On the last order Spike's body jerked forward and his cock throbbed, pumping hot squirts of cum onto his hand and cloth. One lone brain cell considered his pants may be getting stained and damp but the rest shut down as he moaned and road out the waves of heated pleasure that flushed through his groin down to his toes.

Xander tried to ignore the ache in his own pants as Patrick waited patiently out by the car. There would be plenty of time for his own gratification later. In the new house. With Spike by his side.

Part Seven

The trip across town was quick but gave him time to slip comforably into his professional mode. He didn't expect much on this preliminary walk through, but it would help set a foundation for the rest of his investigtion. He entered the building and was met by an orderly who, reluctantly, agreed to show him around. First stop, the late Miss Miller's apartment.

The suite of rooms was small. A living room/ kitchen area and a separate bedroom/ bathroom. Although painted an institutional white, Spike could see that Myrtle had taken great pains to make this her home. Old, out dated black and white pictures sat around and showed the smiling faces of a young couple very much in love. Others chronicled the life of a small child as he grew into a young man.

A crocheted doily covered her toaster and a dish towel was folded neatly on the side bar of the sink. Beside a padded rocking chair he saw a pair of thick reading glasses that lay atop an open copy of Readers Digest. Large print edition.

Spike continued to look around picking up different nick knacks in an effort to get to know the deceased. He suddenly wished Xander was here. He would love to know what psychic impressions the young wood carver would receive.

Spike wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to be able to read people, dead and alive, the way Xander did. The whole concept of it was entirely foreign to Spike. It wasn't anything he could touch or see and because of that his brain couldn't grasp it. Still, like the air he breathes, he trusts it to be real.

Xander, and everything about him, has shaken Spike down to the core. Sometimes it overwhelmed him and, despite himself, Spike considered running. Backing away and moving on.

Adam, the heavy set nurse's aid shuffled his feet nervously in the doorway. The fierce expression in the police Detective's face made him uncomfortable as hell. The department had never sent a full detective before. They always sent a line officer. Everything was cut and dried, this case, although unfortunate was certainly nothing special.

'Why the fuck send the big gun?' Adam chuckled at his own mental joke, a pun he knew better than to share with the dour faced lawman.

"We feel real bad about what happened. You think you're gonna be much longer? I got a couple a baths to give. You know sponge them sagin' sacks." Adam laughed weakly. The detective clearly did not share in the humor.

Spike paused in his inspection and glanced at the fat man sweating in the doorway. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go over and slap the face off the bastard. Poor people like Myrtle worked their whole lives just to end up in a place like this. At the mercy of uncaring people looking for a paycheck. Disrespected and disregarded by a shithead like him. "I'll be finished when I'm finished." Spike snorted and turned his attention back to the room in question. "You say the last time someone spoke to her was in the dining room at supper? No one checked on her after that?"

Adam bristled. He wanted to tell that arrogant English ass hole detective just what he thought of him. Give him a good what for. Remind him that this is Adam's world and he can just fuckin' piss off. "That's right, sir. Myrtle was one of our ambulatory residents. She was able to do for herself so no one would have checked on her till bedtime. The patients like that are required to call the main nurses desk before they go to bed. If they don't call by 9:00 then we come look in on them. That's when we found her."

Spike nodded. He turned and wandered over to the bedroom area. The bed had been turned down but not laid on so she must have been preparing to turn in for the night. "Did she have any regular visitors that you know of?"

Adam thought for a moment, twisting his thumb ring nervously as he spoke.. "Sometimes the pastor from her old church drops in. She only had one son and he died. I think Viet Nam maybe. Oh, yeah, her nephew sometimes came by, but not often. Weren't nobody else."

Spike retrieved his camera from his briefcase and took a few pictures. There really wasn't much here. No story, no crime, no point and to be honest he knew he had dragged this out as long as possible. "So what do you do now? With her things?"

Adam relaxed sensing an end to this "under the microscope" situation and shrugged. "We toss everything in a box. Whatever her nephew wants he takes. We donate all the usable clothes to charity and shit can the rest."

Spike again felt his palm itch for that slap, imagining how good the red outline of his hand would look on Adam's puffy, bloated cheek. Quickly collecting together all the tools of his trade, Spike snapped shut his briefcase and headed for the door. "I'll complete my report shortly. Till then I want her room left as it is. You understand? No one goes in and takes things till I say so."

Adam shook his head and scratched his ass, the implied insult sailed over his head. "Better be quick. Administration has a waiting list for these assisted living units. They'll want it filled by the weekend. Ain't no money in an empty room."

Spike elbowed him roughly as he passed, heading directly for the parking lot. Today had given him a new respect for the line officers who handled this type of assignment on a daily basis. 'How fucking depressing,' he thought.

Checking his watch he saw that he had taken longer than he intended and would have to fly in order to make it to Momma Mabel's by the agreed upon time with Xander. He snorted, knowing Xander would wait on him like one hog waits on another.

"Spike! Over here!"

Spike looked around and saw his lover in the back booth waving his fork in the air. Xander's smiling face seemed to melt away the tensions of the day and he hurried to him.

"Hey, hope you don't mind, I started without you."

Spike laughed and signaled to the waitress. "I would have been shocked if you hadn't."

The rest of the meal went quickly with Xander shoveling as much food in his mouth in a short amount of time as possible. Spike was unable to get much more than "just wait and see" out of him regarding the new apartment but Spike could tell he was excited. "Can you at least tell me where we are going? How big it is? How much the rent is?"

"Nope. Oh, turn here. If I tell you, you might form an opinion and I want you to have a completely open mind. Well, as open minded as you can be."

Spike rolled his eyes. One of their points of contention was that Xander was so uncomfortably spontaneous and Spike was, well, not. Watching the area, he knew they were headed to the older part of town. A part where most of the large mansions had been bought up and converted into condos. Other's were chopped into small apartments. Either way the area was experiencing somewhat of a resurgence. Yuppies pumping big dollars into living spaces creating chic, high end units.

Spike was actually getting a bit excited. Maybe, for once, he and Xander were on the same page.

"Here! Stop here. Look isn't it great!"

Spike looked past his lover who was bouncing like a five year old badly in need of a loo, and let his eyes reach the mansion behind him. Apparently the owner of this dump hadn't gotten the memo yet. Shabby chic was out.

"Um......Ah......Well,......"

Xander instantly slapped his hand over Spike's mouth. "No. Wait. I know it's a bit rough, but wait till you see the inside. Come on just promise not to be negative till you see it all. Promise?"

Spike nodded. He could wait. He could be negative later. He could be very negative later. There had better be a hell of a flat in there.

Part Eight

Xander pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the front door with an exaggerated wave of his arm. Spike stepped back on the
loose boards of the huge front porch and eyed his boy suspiciously. "Where the hell did you get a key? Goddamn it Xander, did you sign a lease? Did you see that fuckin mess of a front yard? Whoever owns this building......."

Xander immediately turned and stuck his finger under Spike's nose. "Uh uh. You promised. Not one more word. Not till the grand tour. Come on, Babe. It's great. You're gonna love it."

Spike took a deep breath. Then he smiled and shook his head. Xander's enthusiasm was infectious. Besides, a few well placed threats to the landlord - tenant board down at city hall could force this place to be brought up to code in no time. He knew how to handle a fuckin' slumlord.

Spike pulled Xander to him pressing their bodies together. The incredible heat of the psychic's body told Spike that his adrenalin was high. It was a feeling that always transferred to Spike and the shared warmth flushed through him. "Yeah, sure. We'll have us a little lookie see and you can convince me of what a nice place this horrendous monstrosity is hiding. Then after we're all done, we can go back home and have us a cozy bit of a shag, yeah?"

Spike pressed Xander against the open doorway and dove in for a hot, wet, tongue licking kiss. He ran his hands down Xander's chest, pausing at the firm, sharp outline of the nipples that waited for Spike's fingers to pinch and rub them.

Xander's cock twitched happily in his pants at the offer and the kiss. If they were going to 'shag' as Spike puts it, they could do it sooner than the detective thought. All Xander had to do was persuade him that they were already home. "Yeah, good, sounds good, come on." Xander broke the kiss and breathlessly stepped inside, pulling Spike by the hand, with him. Spike reluctantly released him and both men stepped inside, adjusting their matching erections.

The interior was nothing that Spike was expecting and he shook his head in confusion. It was dim, dark and dusty, the air stale and closed up. "Where's the flat?"

"Flat what?"

"What?"

"You said something was flat."

"The APARTMENT, Xander. A Flat. An apartment. This place looks abandoned."

"Not abandoned. Not really." Xander grabbed Spike by the hand and pulled him into the formal sitting room. With great flourish he whipped the sheet off the matching red chair and tossed it to the side in a cloud of dust.

"AAHHCHOOO!" Spike sneezed and wiped his nose as a sinking feeling started to register in his allergy racked head.

"Oh, shit. You don't mean...... You can't possibly want to...... Fuck, Xander no. Just......no. Look, I have NEVER lived in a house. Why you ask? Because I don't want to, that's why. A flat is simple. Something breaks, you call, they fix. No grass to cut, no leaves to rake. Did you see that fuckin' jungle we just walked through?" Spike pointed wildly at the front yard, the fingers of his hand flopping around as his wrist snapped back and forth.

Xander pouted and gave his best puppy eyes. "Please, Spike, you promised. Just take the tour. Look around. Besides, the rent is REALLY reasonable." Xander grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

The next hour was spent in perpetual motion. Xander spinning and rushing from room to room, dragging a silent scowling Spike with him. Bedroom, bathroom, study. Bedroom, bathroom, library. Spike was beginning to sense a pattern.

Xander was ecstatic.

Each room that he had seen before with Patrick seemed twice as nice now that he was with Spike. Xander's whole being swam in the warm, electric, positive energy of the house.

It called to him. It welcomed them. Xander knew they belonged there.

Under different circumstances, Spike would have admitted that the mansion was incredible. The amazing stained glass windows, the hard wood cherry floors, everything was done to spare no expense, still, it just accentuated the differences between the two men and again made Spike wonder if two such polar opposites could possibly be happy together.

It seemed, more often than not, that not only weren't they on the same page, hell, they weren't even on the same chapter or book. The implication scared the fuck out of Spike.

Finally, Xander came to the door at the end of the upstairs hallway. He had saved the best for last and knew if he wasn't able to convince Spike here, he couldn't convince him anywhere.

With a turn of the glass doorknobs on the heavy double doors, he stepped back and encouraged Spike to enter first. It took Spike's breath away.

The master bedroom was huge.

The bed magnificent, and Spike could easily imagine that it's quality would give a professional furniture crafter like Xander a true woody.

On the eastern side of the house, the entire outside wall was curved, tower shaped with floor to ceiling windows. The tops of the windows were arched with stained glass windows depicting the sun, the moon and stars. Positioned so that the smiling sun would glow in the early morning light, the side windows would allow the moon and stars to be focal as the later day light shifted toward evening.

Spike's attention then turned to the huge four poster bed with the dark cannonball poles. Involuntarily and much to Spike's disgust, his cock jumped and shuddered in his trousers.

All of the dressers and matching furniture were oversized and it occurred to Spike that none of it would have fit through the doorway proving that it had all been built and installed in the room with the intent to never be removed.

Spike's lawman side marveled that the house had obviously sat empty for so long and hadn't been plundered or vandalized. Reluctantly, he felt his anger and defiance slip a bit as he walked around the room snapping the dusty sheets off as he went.
The awe in his voice became apparent. "Jesus, Xan, the fuckin' room is bigger than your, our, whole fuckin' flat." Immediately Spike froze then turned to face his lover. "Oh, that's it, isn't it?"

Suddenly Spike's temper shot through the roof. This was all a get back. This was Xander's way of overreacting to Spike's complaint that their place was crowded and too small. This was a fucking joke.

Spike slammed down the last sheet that he still held in his hand. He felt betrayed, insulted, the butt of Xander's joke. Spike turned to stomp out, tears threatening to sting his eyes. He had been made a fool.

Confused, Xander grabbed him from behind. He held tight and allowed Spike's emotions to flow through him. He was shocked at what he felt. All too often he forgot how closed in and suspicious his lover was. Turning his grip on the struggling man into an embrace, Xander whispered in Spike's ear. "No, no. Spike, wait, please. This isn't about hurting you or punishing you. I'm sorry, I did this all wrong. Come on, sit down with me and let me explain. Please, Spike, I love you. Give me a chance to explain."

Spike relaxed marginally. In the short amount of time he had been with Xander he knew one thing for sure. The man didn't have a cruel or vindictive bone in his body. He was nothing but open, honest and kind. He wanted a chance to explain. Spike decided he deserved that and went grudgingly with him.

Xander kissed Spike's neck and ear. "Come on, sit on the bed with me Mr. Grouchy."

Spike sighed and let himself be led across the room. He lowered himself down onto what he had to admit was a hell of a comfortable mattress. Spike scooted his butt back till his legs swung, his feet several inches off the floor.

Xander smiled.

Part Nine

"This is Patrick's family home. He's the last and doesn't want to live here alone, I think it holds too many memories for him. When I told him about our space problem he offered me the house."

Spike scowled."Offered? What does that mean? What's the catch? There's always a catch, Xander. Nothing in life is free."

Xander's enthusiasm never wavered. His hand found it's way to Spike's inner thigh as his fingers started toying with the raised inseam.

"It's simple. No rent. Did you hear that? NO RENT." Xander kissed Spike's neck and continued. "All we have to do is keep up with some minor repairs, tend to the outside, clean things up, you know just general to do stuff. Isn't that great? Can you believe our luck?"

Spike's mouth fell open. He didn't know what stunned him more, the overwhelming amount of work Xander had committed them to or the boy's ridiculous optimistic attitude. Reality then started to settle in his gut and Spike felt his throat start to
tighten up, his lungs fought for air and he began to hyperventilate. Amazingly, the walls of the huge room began to close in and Spike's claustrophobia threatened to strangle him.

Xander became aware of the hacking, gasping sounds his lover was making and he immediately pushed him backward, straddling Spike's body. He had seen Spike have these attacks before and knew exactly what to do. He couldn't believe a man who had faced death more than once could be so paralyzed by the threat of commitment. In this case, to a house.

In an improvised form of rescue breathing, Xander knew he had to get Spike's mind off the magnitude of the change of lifestyle and convince him of the good points.

Xander quickly grabbed Spike's wrists and slammed them down on the bed at the sides of Spike's head. Then he locked their fingers and smiled before lowering his face for a kiss. A deep, possessive, taking kiss that left no doubt as to who was in charge.

Spike struggled under the heat and weight of the larger man. Right now he needed that assurance, that feeling of helplessness, of being owned and dragged kicking and screaming towards a jarring orgasm.

"Stop fighting me Spike. Let me show you what a great idea this is."

"No. No, we are not moving in here."

Xander cursed his own negligence and forgetfulness. No lube, no condoms meant no penetration. But it didn't mean there would be no pleasure, no satisfaction or release for both of them.

Xander sat back, settled on Spike's hips, he pressed one hand on Spike's chest, holding him firmly in place. The other hand popped the button of Spike's trousers and slowly eased down the zipper. "Well, well. Seems like not all of you thinks this is a bad idea." Xander smirked as the backs of his fingers brushed over the newly exposed hard cock.

Spike closed his eyes and turned his head. His voice quiet and breathless. "No. We shouldn't be here. We shouldn't do this."

Xander placed his hand over Spike's heart to assure himself that he was on the right track. When the smaller man's emotions of want, need, love and trust poured into him, Xander kicked it up a notch.

Grabbing the front of Spike's shirt in both his hands, Xander ripped it open, causing the buttons to spray across the room and Spike's eyes to fly open in shock. "You won't tell me when I can have you. If I want your cock, I'll take it. I'll suck it, swallow it, or sit on it. I'll do what I want and if you're real good, I just might let you cum too."

Spike arched up and groaned. "Oh, my God, yes."

Xander jerked his shirt over his head and reached for his pants. The pressure of his own rock hard cock was becoming more than painful in the restriction of his jeans. Spike's cock leaked in anticipation and his licked his lips.

Suddenly Xander stopped. He removed his hands and took a deep calming breath. He knew if he didn't slow down he would cum before he started. "You do it. Take me out, Spike. Touch me. Put your hands on my cock and balls and feel how much I want you."

Spike's one remaining brain cell finally functioned and he scrambled to comply. His shaking fingers unbuttoned the fly and he reached inside. The weight and girth of Xander's cock always thrilled him. The tough, rolling skin moved in his hands as he pulled, worked and maneuvered the thick erection free.

Xander swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. His brain scrambled for something that would bring him back from the edge.
'Think, damn it think. O.k. 2x2=4 4x4=16 16x16=4 4x4=wait, I don't think that's right. 2x2= shit that's good. Shit that's so good.'

Spike's hips rocked slightly under Xander as he wrapped his slim fingers around the hot meat with his right hand. Using his left hand he dug back down in the pants and finally lifted out Xander's heavy sac.

All the manipulation by the cool hands nearly caused Xander to cum and in a final move to regain control he hopped off the bed. Spike whimpered and rose to his elbows. Xander jerked off his pants and did the same to Spike. He stood back for a minute, lightly stroking himself and staring at the shaking man on the bed. "I can't fuck you Spike. Not this time. I want to. I want to shove myself into your body and pound away till I fill you with hot cum that will drip down your legs all day, but I can't. Not yet. Not till we move in. Then I will. I'll bend you over and ram all this cock into your tight sore hole. I'll fuck you in every room of this house Spike. I'll fuck you till you can't walk straight."

Spike thought briefly about the shear number of rooms in the mansion and the magnitude of what Xander was promising. He shuddered at the thought and let his fingers brush over his own puckered hole. He felt it twitch in agreement.

Xander knelt on the floor between Spike's legs, gripping the blond's ankles he bent Spike's knees and placed his feet flat on the bed. Xander then started at Spike's feet. He sucked first one toe into his mouth then the next, licking and nipping between.
Spike gasped in shock. Xander grinned at the new discovery.

Spike grabbed himself and began stroking. He had never told anyone about his erogenous feet. He had never been foot fucked. Never dreamed someone would do it for him. Spike's ass wriggled on the soft bed and his toes spread and flexed, begging for more.

Xander's own cock leaked and jerked in his hand at the whining, whimpering sounds his lover was making. Xander licked a stripe up the ticklish bottom of Spike's foot with his hot tongue then bit firmly on his heel.

Spike stiffened, his hand temporarily; losing rhythm. He quickly recovered, swiped his thumb over the clear bubbles on the head and resumed stroking, faster, harder.

Xander's masturbation met and exceeded Spike's as he released one foot and took hold of the other. Spike responded by instantly scrunching his butt to the side to allow Xander better access, his toes wiggled in anticipation.

Lifting his head, Spike watched as Xander stared him in the face and sucked a big toe in his mouth. He licked it, nipped it, and swiped his tongue over the neatly manicured nail as though it were a cock.

Spike's head fell back His other hand scooped and rolled his balls as he lost himself in the feeling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jesus, Xan, fuck."

Xander knew he couldn't hold back much longer. He had already stalled the tingling in his spine and badly needed to feel it rush through him. He knew from the rocking and sounds his lover was making, that Spike was nearly there too.

Suddenly, Xander stood. "Look at me, Spike!"

Spike jerked himself out of the sex fog he was in and opened his eyes. Xander still held Spike's right foot in his hand and was roughly jerking himself off. Within seconds, Xander's body went rigid and his eyes rolled back as he shot stream after hot sticky stream of cum onto Spike's foot. It squirted between his toes and dripped down, rolling off his arch.

"AGH! God! Fuck!"

Spike gasped. The smell, the sight, the feel of the wet cum as it splattered on his overstimulated skin hurtled him over the brink and his cock twitched, pumping his own fluids over his hand and stomach. Spike's legs fell open as his knees hit the bed and he rode out the waves of pleasure that coursed through his crotch and body.

He barely registered the shift of the bed as Xander flopped down beside him or the feel of the warm lips as they brushed over his cheek. Gradually the flashing lights behind his eyes and his breathing slowed and returned to normal. The blood seeped back into his brain and he sighed.

"We're moving in aren't we?"

Xander's voice was filled with exuberance and he rubbed circles on Spike's sticky stomach. "Yep"

Spike groaned.

Part Ten

Despite the feeling of relaxation and after glow from the amazing foot sex, the trip back to their small upstairs apartment was one of negotiation and diplomacy. Give and take. Offer and counter offer. No used car salesman could have done better.

Spike was stubborn and didn't like the feeling that he was being manipulated, his future decided for him. He was torn between his love and desire to make Xander happy and his reluctance to make such a drastic change in lifestyle.

Xander operated less on reasoning than on emotional response. He knew how he felt in the house. He could see them living together there and couldn't understand Spike's resistance to the enevitable.

Finally by the time the small red Corvette reached the parking space outside the Divine Creations wood shop, both men felt as though they had won several points and compromised on a few others in their agreement.

Spike had agreed, as they both knew he would, to move into the mansion on the other side of town. However it would be on a thirty day trial period with the understanding that if it just wasn't working out Xander would find an apartment for them to move to.

After expressing concerns about the amount of over growth around the house, Xander agreed to hire someone to come in and initially get the front yard mowed, weeded and the porch fixed. Spike had been thrown off guard when Xander casually told him he had a friend that did yard work and would be glad to help out, probably for nothing.

It wasn't as though Spike thought Xander had lived in a cocoon before they met. Of course the boy had friends. Immediately Spike's suspicious nature kicked in and his thoughts wandered off topic. Curious as to who these friends were and why he had never met any of them, Spike's eyes shifted to the young man sitting next to him. The handsome psychic who was still mindlessly babbling along.

"We can sit down together and make out a list of the other things that need to be done, you know, by priority. Patrick doesn't expect everything to be done over night. He's just glad to have us here. It'll be great, you'll see."

Spike squinted and scowled at Xander's confidence. "Just who the fuck is this grand gardener? This wizard of weeds. This master of the mower that will come running at your beck and call?"

Xander chuckled. He was getting used to Spike's jealousy and let it pass like a fart in the wind. Annoying at first, he knew his lover's suspicions, like an eye watering odor, would fade quickly. Glancing up, he grinned as Raymond's spirit took an open handed swipe at the back of Spike's head. "Just a friend. A young man that has a lawn care service. His name is Andrew and actually now that you mention it, I've been wanting you to meet some of my friends. Maybe after we get all settled in we can have
a few people over. Nothing big, just a few of us. Some of your friends at the station and the, um, Circle."

"Circle?"

"Oh, ha ha, that's just what we call ourselves. Silly isn't it? Oh, look, we're home. Come on, we have plans to make, boxes to pack, lists to write." Xander kicked his door open and was out of the car before Spike had even shut off the engine.

He watched as his boy disappeared up the side steps and frowned. "The circle? What the fuck?"

~*~*~*~*~

Dr. Ahn, the county ME looked up from his laptop and stared at the phone that sat ringing on his desk, mentally willing it to stop. When it appeared the caller would not give up he removed the small round reading glasses from their perch on the end of his nose and stood up.

Stretching the kinks out of his back he straightened himself to his full height of 5'4" and waddled over to the cluttered desk where he fished around till he located the offending instrument. "Hello? Yes? This is the office of the ME. What can I do for you?"

"Hello, Doctor Ahn? This is Mark Jacobs. I believe you have the body of my Aunt Myrtle. She was the victim of an accidental drowning in the nursing home where she was a resident?"

Dr. Ah frowned. It was very unconventional for a family member to call him personally. He did not like people who did not follow the rules. He was not a fan of spontaneity. "Yes, I have the body. What is it that you want to know Mr. Jacobs?"

"Well, the fact is, Doctor, as you know I am Aunt Myrtle's only living relative and unfortunately she has outlived all of her friends as well. Because of that as well as the fact that I travel a lot for business, I was hoping I could get you to release the body immediately for cremation. I have already spoken to the funeral home and they are prepared to collect the remains this evening and we can handle the, ah, situation, tomorrow."

Dr. Ahn riffled through the mountain of organized disorganization on his desk and was unable to locate what was needed. "No. I don't have the final report from the Detective assigned to your Aunt's case. I cannot sign off on the death certificate till I read his report and I make sure it collaborates with my findings. I'm sure that was all explained to you. This is the law Mr. Jacobs. These things must be done properly. By the book, as they say."

Mark Jacobs tolerance for presumptuous and uppity foreigners was short fused with lowly clerks and civil service people, but it took real restraint to keep it from exploding when he was confronted by one in authority. He wanted nothing more than to build a huge boat, shove them all on it and set it to sea. Then blow it out of the fucking water.

"Doctor! Maybe you don't understand English well enough to comprendo what I am saying. I. Am. A. Very. Busy. Man. It was a simple, stupid accident. Now I am due to be in Atlanta in two days and I need to put this tragic and unfortunate incident behind me."

Dr. Ahn's nose wrinkled in distaste and he resolved to lose the Detective's report, when it did arrive, for at least an extra day or two. "I understand that you are grief stricken and not thinking clearly Mr. Jacobs so I will not assume your statements were meant to be disrespectful or intimidating. However, if you give me your name and number, I will contact the Detective, collect his report as soon as it is complete and call you immediately after. That is the best I can do for you."

Mark Jacobs rolled his eyes and choked back the screams of frustration. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and gave the doctor his name and address, careful to spell out each word. He then gave his phone number, twice, and elicited a promise that, yes, the ME's office would be in touch.

Dr. Ahn hung up, ending the unpleasant conversation, and returned to his computer. He had already disregarded the caller but did resolve to locate a pencil and pad of paper to keep by the phone. Not that he actually would have written down the man's name and number even if he had them, it was just that he thought it was probably a good idea.

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