Chapter One



            Spike lit up his first cigarette of the day with vigor. It was ten in the morning, and this cigarette was his coffee. Blood would be his breakfast, once he lifted himself out of bed, but he really didn’t want to. Crypts were nice; school basements were not so nice, and both lacked the comfort of a soft bed and shag carpeting. Here he had that comfort, and it was hard to tear himself away from. Toasty tootsies were nice to wake up to, even for the undead. It was almost worth turning around his schedule and sleeping at night… Almost. But it wasn't like he had a choice.

            He had been living in Xander’s apartment for three months now, under the slayers orders that the stupid human boy watch him. Spike found this slightly amusing, since Xander seemed to have trouble enough looking after himself, and wouldn’t stand a chance if Spike went bonkers and ripped him limb from limb. As Spike considered this, it dawned on him that this was probably the reason Xander had been so against his residence.

            Once he forced himself out of the warm bed and started throwing on clothes (he slept in the nude, for no other purpose then to piss off Xander), he let himself into the main part of the apartment and found his roommate making himself breakfast. Spike watched with a smug smirk as Xander poured himself a bowl of some sort of chocolate (Spike could smell it) and coated it with milk.

            Three months had been long enough that Xander was no longer as discourteous as he had been when he was first told he was meant to share a home with a bumbling half-crazy vampire. Then again, Spike wasn't half-crazy anymore, either. Spike watched as Xander turned on the microwave, and the heat made the scent of blood reach the vampires nostrils. Xan knew that Spike liked warm blood in the morning.

“Smelled your cigarette.” Xander explained, moving to the couch with his bowl of cereal. “I thought I told you not to smoke in here.”

“You thought?” Spike asked, feigning surprise.

“Ha ha.” Xander spoke the words as if he were reading them from a book and took a bite of cereal. “You’re going to get me kicked out, and then you won’t have a cozy little apartment buddy to mooch off of anymore.”

“Sod off.” Spike said simply, and the timer rang on his blood. He didn’t say anything as he crossed the apartment to grab the hot mug from the machine. Xander turned from his spot on the couch.

“You’re welcome.” He said sarcastically, and then took another bite of his sugary breakfast. Spike raised his mug up towards the human and chugged a bit, letting one droplet trail down his chin. He liked feeling as though he were drinking it from a living human. Warming it up helped, but theatrics even more so. Xander just cringed and turned back to the television.

            Every Sunday Xander stayed home and, like a child, watched cartoons. Kids WB, Spike learned quickly, was his favorite channel. Xander had some sort of obsession with these four big turtles that fought crime? Spike didn’t understand it, but he learned that no matter what insult he tossed, Xander would never change the channel and he wouldn't even fight back until a commercial.

“Don’t drip it onto the couch.” Xander warned like a wife as Spike sat down next to him.

“I could say the same to you.” Spike mumbled back, watching the now chocolaty milk drip down Xander’s chin. Why was it okay when humans did it with cereal? Such hypocrisy.

“Blood doesn’t wash out.” Xander pointed out, not looking away from the screen. “If you drip onto my nice white couch, you're gonna clean it up.”

Spike grinned a bit while he watched Xander watching television. He and the donut boy had really developed a repertoire over the passing months. It was as if they'd fallen into a comfortable groove where they didn't feel the need to fight all of the time. Bicker, maybe, but not fight... It was a bit boring, but it was better than having to listen to Xander's 'angry voice'. When it got all high-pitched and whiny.

The two sat in silence for a moment,  while Spike chugged his warmed blood and Xander crunched on his cereal. When he'd eaten the last of the chocolate, he slurped all of the milk and stood up to put the plate away. Spike wasn't subtle as he followed Xander's movements while licking the blood off the sides of the glass. He couldn't help but notice how chunky his 'caretaker' had gotten over the past three months. Over the past months  they'd been worrying about 'The First', but she didn't exactly come out to fight much, which left only the normal vampires and demons to slay. Buffy took care of those, with Spike's help and the other 'little slayers'. So Xander really didn't have much to do besides sit around and eat. The  results of said eating where showing around his stomach quite noticeably.

Spike actually thought it was odd that no one else had mentioned the recent doughy nature of Xander's gut. It wasn't like the Scoobies where known for respecting Xander's self-esteem, not really out of cruelty as much as they felt like they didn't need to filter their insults, since Xander was basically a doormat. So why hadn't Spike heard any biting comments about Xander's waistline? It wasn't exactly a subtle growth, either, nothing that would pass under their radar, even at a time like this.

“I'm going out today with Buff and Wills.” Xander said, and Spike saw him grab a candy bar and tuck in into his pockets.”At sundown you should come to Buffy's house and help her train the slayerettes, all right?”

“Can't hardly wait.” Spike mumbled sarcastically. He planned to go back to sleep, and if he did wake up by sundown, he may consider doing what Xander asked. Maybe. Doubtful.

Xander went into his bedroom, most likely to grab a shirt because he had been wearing a simple white t-shirt, and anything without Hawaiian print just looked silly, right? Spike rolled his eyes as he thought about this and stood up. He cleaned his own glass out of courtesy, not even Xander was enough of a tosser that he deserved to be forced to clean off dried blood from a coffee mug. When Xander came back he was actually wearing a normal blue long-sleeve shirt that probably once made him look lanky and 'cute', but now his little ball gut stuck out so much that Spike couldn't keep his eyes off of it. When Xander looked over, he blushed as if he knew exactly what Spike was staring at, and Spike just confirmed what he'd already suspected.

“Packing on a bit much there, aren't you mate?” Spike asked, grinning at Xander's embarrassment. Xan looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, then he pulled on the hem on his shirt a bit, as if that would make it better, but really it just accented how much his stomach pressed against the fabric.
“Don't try to be subtle or anything.” Xander said sarcastically. “Wouldn't want to spare my feelings.”
“Maybe if you laid off some of those 'Twinkies' and such, you'd loose that.” Spike suggested smugly. It gave him a great satisfaction to point out the recent growth in Xander's middle. He wanted to get closer, to touch it, but he figured he wouldn't. That was an erg that was too weird for him to give into. For now, just drawing attention was enough.

“Says the vampire who doesn't even need to eat.” Xander said defensively. His dark brown eyebrows furrowed and he turned away quickly. Spike raised his own eyebrows, wondering why Xander didn't get angry. That was really the predictable reaction. Instead, the human walked back into the room, and Spike's vampire ears could hear that he was changing his clothes.

Spike took this as a small victory and smirked wider, crossing his arms over his thin, muscled chest. He actually thought that this was entertaining. As a vampire, he'd seen every type of creature that earth could throw at him, so a chubby twenty-three year old wasn't anything new or even slightly surprising to him. But there had always been something somewhat interesting about a fleshy person. Not women, but when a man started packing them on, Spike always noticed. He didn't know why. So, as long as he was already noticing so much, why shouldn't he be the one to make sure Xander noticed as well? He grinned a little wider and fell back onto the couch, changing the channel to Sci-Fi for Star Trek, and took great pleasure in knowing that he never had to worry about things like getting fat.

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All the Scoobies where meeting at Buffy's house, even though they didn't have much to discuss at all. They met every Friday, so that they could calm down and watch movies. Training happened too, obviously, but the movie was the important part. It was the moment where they could all pretend to be normal, just for two hours. Popcorn, lame clichés, the works. Of course, Xander was always normal, so really this was the only time he felt... Part of the group. In a group of baby slayers, the REAL slayer, witches, and vampires, he really was the odd one out. What could he do? Fix the windows and fetch the donuts.

'And eat all of them...' Xander thought, looking down at his stomach. He figured he'd done a better job at hiding it this time around. He wore a loser shirt, still floral so no one was suspicious. Not that they paid much attention anyway.

While they sat in the dark, everyone but Xan munching on popcorn and commenting on how the plot was lame and how the acting was sub-par, Xander let himself think of that morning. He had done everything he could to push it out of his mind, but he couldn't. It was like he was right back in Junior High. The fat kid that everyone could pick on.

He felt disgusting. Of course he'd noticed himself fleshing out, but he didn't think much of it until that morning. He thought he was just putting on a few pounds, not enough that people really noticed. But he was just fooling himself. Wishful thinking. Because he wanted to be good-looking so badly, he didn't want to believe that he was turning back into a pig. But he was, and he deserved to catch shit for it.

But... It's not like EVERYONE was picking on him about his weight. Just Spike. On the other hand, Willow and Buffy where both too well-informed about his past to bring up weight at all, so maybe everyone had really noticed, but they new not to say anything. And if that was the case, it was much much worse then if they were laughing at him to his face.

That meant they were laughing about him behind his big, fat back.


That night, before he went home, he Xander tip-toed his way up to Willow's room and took one of her thicker-looking spell books.

He couldn't stay fat. He'd rather die.

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Xander lit the candles just as the spell said, sitting in the middle of his living room. He barely understood the spell, but he knew what it would to, at least. Or he hoped he knew. The words were long and annoying, but he figured it out close enough. He would lose weight he knew he would. He had to.  He sat indian-style on his cheap, beige carpet, the wax dripping onto the floor. Usually he would never allow anything on his floor, but he didn't want to mess up the spell by trying to clean it up.

Spike was out, it was nighttime now and Spike went out to fight demons and maybe actually help Buffy, but knowing Spike that was unlikely.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his mind on what he wanted. The spell said you had to concentrate.

'I can't stay fat.'  he thought.

“Dieviete skaistuma. Dieviete vīriešu.” he called.

'If even someone as thick as Spike can tell I'm a fat pig, everyone else does, too.'

“Dieviete Mīlestības, es aicinu jūs”

The candles were flickering, but Xander figured that it was his imagination.

'I'm not an obese little kid anymore.'

“... manā dzīvē, nostāties blakus man...”

'How could Spike even say that? Why doesn't he think about anyone else, just once?'

“Lai pasargātu mani, lai palīdzētu man.”

'I just wish Spike would look at me and think I'm skinny.'

“Pret skaistumu, un mīlestību.”

And then the candle went out, even though there was no wind, and Xander was left in the darkness. He felt a small chill, but... He didn't feel any different. All he felt was an empty hunger, and he wished he'd eaten some of that popcorn.

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It was nearly sunup Spike stumbled into the apartment, not even attempting to be quiet. Why should he give a fuck whether or not he woke up Xander? He was drunk as hell, which took a lot, really. Vampires had to be well over the legal limit to even feel a bit knockard, let alone be really drunk. He had beaten a few baddies, and when he finally did get rid of the slayerettes, he had to knock back a few.

He found out that Xander was sleeping on the couch, though he had no idea why. Xander had the nicest bed in the apartment. Big and soft, even better than his own. Before he walked into the room, he leaned down over the couch.

Xan's stomach was hanging out over too-tight jeans, his shirt must have slid up after he'd gone to sleep. Spike licked his lips and poked his stomach tentatively. Once he figured Xander was a heavy enough sleeper, he put one hand on either side of it. It was soft, and warm. Spike liked warmth. He smirked and leaned back.

“Not bad, donut boy.” he said, then chuckled to himself. “Or is it just dough boy now?”

He laughed at his private joke as he walked into Xander's bedroom and slipped into the softer, roomier bed. It was nice to have a place to go after he spent a night on the town. He was so tired he fell right into a dead sleep, no pun intended. He tired, he didn't even notice his stomach rising-- even though vampires don't breath.