Night Of Nights

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href="non90.html">90

Night of Nights

Sajinn

No, they aren’t mine. I wish they were, but they aren’t. They belong to their creators. No money is being made. I just take them out, put them in pretty dresses, and make them fight each other. No harm, no foul. Feed the writer. Review.

The Ninety-Eighth

Happy Birthday, Tony Gwynn.

Spike was just about to start on the New York Times crossword puzzle when Xander came home, a grocery bag in one hand and his purse in another. Spike was pleasantly surprised to see that today, Xander's cordovan leather purse matched the young man's outfit. It had taken the vampire months to break the human of his annoying habit of pairing plaids and florals.

"Oh, Spike! You're awake already? Fudge!" Xander exclaimed, tucking the contents of the grocery bag--bottles of blood--into the refrigerator. "I'd so hoped to finish up before you were out of bed."

Spike shrugged. "Haven't even had dinner yet, luv, don't worry about it. Whattaya have to do anyway?"

Xander covered his mouth but was unable to completely mask his tittering. "It's a surprise!" Before Spike could ask just what Xander was going to spring on him, the human was locked into the spare bedroom. Since it didn't look like Xander was planning on popping right out again, Spike went about pouring himself some dinner and finding something to wear.

Half an hour later, Spike was dressed, fed, and impatiently waiting for Xander to exit the spare bedroom. "Come on, Xander, we're supposed to be over at Angel's coffee klatch in an hour. At the rate you're going, we won't be able to swing by Cordelia's Tupperware and Avon party afterwards--and you *know* how she gets when we miss one!" Although the door muffled Xander's voice, Spike fully understood the next statement--although he kind of wished he hadn't.

"Oh, crumbs! That just won't do--Cordy's supposed to have the new fall line, and I'm almost out of concealer!" The last words were much easier to understand because Xander had started to open the bedroom door.

Spike stared.

"What do you think?" Xander asked, twirling around on his new taupe pump heels.

Spike stared. Xander frowned and fidgeted with his stockings.

"Is my seam straight?" Xander inquired, craning about to check his hosiery.

"Xander," Spike began, licking his lips nervously, "You're wearing a dress."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Of course I am!" And it was a nice dress, too--a tasty confection decked out in taffeta and lace, complete with the cutest little peplum. Teal was *so* his color, too.

"Why?" Spike asked, still staring. The dress was just a bit... there. Very, very there.

Xander sighed softly. "The doctor said I have to wear it--for a year. They won't do the surgery unless I live like a woman for a year."

Spike began to frown. "Surgery?" Realization struck. "Xander, I thought we talked about this..."

Puppy dog eyes appeared like magic. "But Spike! Don't you want me happy?"

"Yes," Spike said slowly, "But are you sure..."

Xander's nod was emphatic. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life!" He joined Spike at the table, neatly crossing his legs at the knee as he sat. "Once the surgery is over, I'll be a real woman. No guy can be everything for you, Spike. Housekeeper, nursemaid, bed-bunny and trophy wife!"

"I don't need--"

"Yes you do!" Xander interrupted emphatically. "And this will do the trick! Women always seem to be able to balance this stuff, and besides--afterwards you'll have even more options in the bedroom. It works out great for everyone."

Spike didn't know what to say.

"Oh, my, look at the time!" Xander said, glancing at the wall clock. "We'd better high-tail it out of here, or we'll be late!"

Spike woke up gasping for air, legs thrashing in tangled sheets. Warm hands grasped Spike's arms, but he wrenched out of them, screaming all the while, "YOU CAN'T BE A WOMAN, I LIKE YOUR DICK TOO MUCH!"

Xander sat back on the bed, blinking. "Spike?"

The vampire rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a thump. Seconds later, a blonde head peeked up over the mattress. "Erm, Xander?"

"Yeah?" Xander asked tentatively.

Spike picked himself up off the floor and sat back down on the bed. "I think that blood wasn't so fresh."

"Whatever makes you think that?" Xander replied dryly. "Was it the acid-trip alleyway sex, or you thinking I was a girl with a dick?"

"I what?" Spike muttered. "Oh, that. Bad dream. Really bad dream. You don't want to know."

"Was I wearing a dress?" Xander asked. Spike's expression was answer enough. "That traumatic?"

"My brain feels dirty," Spike whimpered, moving closer to Xander. "You were wearing this teal thing with ruffles, and a funny purse, and we were going to a Tupperware party and you wanted more conceal--

Xander stopped Spike's babbling with a kiss. The vampire pushed Xander over and thrust down, pushing their cocks together. Xander didn't bother trying to stop him, figuring he wouldn't really succeed. Besides, he wasn't exactly suffering.

Spike thrust harder against Xander, more than a little happy to feel the boy's cock next to his. And when a hot, rough hand slipped between them and began jerking Spike off, that was even better than good.

Xander held Spike as the vampire came. "Ninety-eight."

TBC...