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Cicirossi
Joss Whedon is God and owns all. It's still his world, although we like to sneak in the side door and cover Xander with chocolate sauce and whipped cream when no one's looking.
"Wake up, pet. C'mon. Wake up." That was Spike's voice. Why was Spike being so mean? And why was he trying to pull Xander's insides out through his belly button? Curling around the horrible cramp in his stomach, Xander let out a piteous moan. His head throbbed and he was really cold and he shook with every gasping breath. "Xander!" Spike's voice was very sharp. "You've got to wake up and tell me what's wrong."
That made him crack one eye open and look. Spike was a little blurry, but there he was. And he was naked. Nice Spike. Pretty Spike. But he couldn't appreciate it with his teeth chattering like that. And Spike kinda looked worried. What did Spike want? Oh yeah. Tell Spike what was wrong.
"Chocolate," Xander whimpered.
"What? You ate some bad chocolate?"
Shaking his head really hurt, and made him heave, but he didn't actually throw up. Not that Spike hadn't seen him do that before. That would probably disturb him greatly when he snapped out of this. "Chocolate. Freezer. Please?"
Looking dubious Spike hied off to the kitchen and was back a minute later with his last Chocolate Hurricane. "You mean this, luv? It's the only chocolate in the freezer."
Undignified as it was, Xander lunged for the chocolate, actually salivating. Bemused, Spike sat back on his heels and watched Xander tear the wrapper off and swallow two bites without even chewing. As soon as the first bit went down, Xander began to feel better, and between gulps of sanity giving milk-chocolate happiness he sighed with relief. Gradually, he stopped shaking, and the sweat started evaporating, and he could look at Spike again without seeing three of him.
The one Spike he could see now, however, was frowning at him. "You know, I always knew you had a bit of a sweet tooth. But that was a little much."
"Waa dis?" Xander asked around a mouthful of creamy yumminess. He swallowed. "This is nothing. Really. I just haven't been feeling good. But the chocolate makes it better."
"And you don't find that even a tad odd?" Picking up the wrapper, Spike sniffed delicately at it. "Doesn't smell like it's gone off, or like it's drugged." Turning the paper over, Spike frowned again, more deeply. "Haven't seen one of these in a good fifteen years."
Ah, blessedly calm stomach. "Yeah. I hadn't had one in years either. But the date on the label says it's good until September." Not quite sure why Spike was making such a big deal out of his Hurricane, Xander swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Move it bleachboy. I gotta go."
Boy, could Spike move fast when threatened with bodily functions. He'd have to remember that. Really, Xander just wanted to go to the bathroom to clean his mouth out and scrub down a little. He splashed some water on his face at looked in the mirror and was amazed at the haggard face that looked back at him. Wow. Looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. Okay, he hadn't eaten. But he'd slept for like twelve hours straight. And that was only the one time. He wondered what time it was now.
Man, did he feel better. Bouncing a little with each step, Xander went back out into the bedroom. There was Spike, still staring at the candy wrapper. Still naked. "Spike?"
"Mmm?"
"Would you put something on please?"
Looking up finally, Spike smirked. "How about you?"
"No! Clothes. Put on your clothes. Hell, put on mine so Willow can think you're cute. Just wear something."
"You know, pet, I could get insulted here. We do it, you pass out. You wake up sick. Then you get skittish like. Good thing it's hard to hurt my feelings." While Xander was still blinking from that, Spike gestured at the Hurricane wrapper. "So where'd you get the chocolate?"
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