You'll probably notice that a large percentage of my Buffy recs are Spike/Xander. I'm really not sure if that's because a number of talented writers have found the pairing attractive, or if I've just been lucky in running across so many good stories, or if I have a particular soft spot for the pairing myself. The very first Jossverse slash fanfic that I read was Spike/Xander, so that could be part of it, too...

Recs in Alphabetical Order

Brown Paper Packages (Alexandria Brown)
Chocolatey Goodness (Mad Poetess)
Chocolate Hurricane (Cicirossi)
Find the River (Seana Renay)
Good Intentions (Mad Poetess and Wolfling)
A Long Time (Mad Poetess)
Modus Vivendi (Wiseacress)
Night Watch (Webrain)
Plans (Debchan)
Post-Grad (Te)
Sands of Time (Wolfling and James Walkswithwind)
Sidelines (Anna S.)
Soft (Juliatheyounger)
Truth or Dare (Byrne)
We're Not Gay. We're Just Friends. Who Have Sex. (Juliatheyounger)

Brown Paper Packages by Alexandria Brown

Why you should read this: This story is a lot of fun with a little bit of angst thrown in for good measure. There's a nice, somewhat gradual build-up to the smut, which I like - not that there's anything wrong with having the boys jump into bed together immediately, but this draws it out nicely. There's a nice scene in which Spike watches a videotape that Xander makes of himself. Hot smut. Nice character voices. A feel-good kind of Spike/Xander story.

"So, pet, would ask what you were," a significant pause as Spike looked Xander over from head to toe, "up to, so to speak. But that seems fairly clear. Must be shitty to go back to Mr. Hand after that demon bint."

Xander just stared back. Spike was standing in his doorway. Spike. Actual Spike. Real Spike. Starting to get pissed off Spike.

"Pet, are you going to move or what? Don't fancy standing in your hallway all evening."

Xander felt the blood rush to his face, well, mostly his face when he heard the words. **Spike called me pet** He just stared a moment more, then an evil grin crossed his face.

"Oh sure, Spike, come on in. Been wanting to talk to you lately myself."

Xander watched as Spike strode in, as always with the air that he owned whatever room he occupied. Xander padded to the kitchen, grabbing beer for them both, pausing for a moment to swipe the box for Boys In Blue from off the top of the television. He came back, handed Spike a beer, waited until Spike took a good hard pull and then held up the box.

"Hey Spike, I never knew you had such hidden talents."

He was rewarded by the sudden spray of beer that shot out of Spike's mouth.

Mild warning: Contains a little bit more fanon than I'm normally comfortable with, but it's such a fun story that I didn't have a hard time overlooking it. Ditto on the multiple POVs within scenes.

If you like this story, you might also like: The Benefits series by Minim Calibre.

Chocolatey Goodness by Mad Poetess

Spike/Xander. Set during the summer between S4 and S5. Spike is living in the Harris basement with Xander, and things get complicated when sex... and love... enter the picture.

Why you should read this: Because Mad Poetess is a mad genius? Seriously. She is an extremely talented writer with an eye for detail and an amazing ear for Xander's voice. If you ever wanted to get inside Xander's head and see what he was thinking, this is the fic for you. And in addition to great Xander, you also get great Spike, other characters that sound like themselves, great smut, and a killer sense of humor. What more could a S/X fan ask for?

There was a bit of banging as Spike worked his way through the rest of Xander's storage space, and then silence, blessed, sweet silence. Xander began to think he might actually be able to sleep before he had to get up, shower, and prepare to greet the world at his day job. What was his day job again? Oh yeah, stockboy. Cool stripey uniform and all the discounted Shredded Wheat you can carry home. Can't remember occupation -- need sleep. Mmm... sleep...

But then the silence, and the still-functioning brain --dammit -- began to prey on him. It might be bedtime for an exhausted Xander, but it was about noon for Spike. What was he up to that was so...damn...quiet? Xander began to listen, really listen. Finally, from the silence, came "slide...scrape... slurp...crunch crunch crunch..."

He turned over in his bed, pillow still over his eyes. Crunch? What did he find that could possibly...crunch...oh god, no...

Unable to shake the terrifying suspicion forming in his burned-out brain, Xander crawled out of bed and stumbled over to the card table he'd set up in his laughable little kitchenette. Blinking, he finally focused on Spike, who was seated at the table next to the tell-tale brown box, cheerfully shoveling in a huge spoonful of blood and...

"Count Chocula ???" Xander shrieked, horrified beyond all imagining.

Spike looked up innocently at him with a mouthful of bloody chocolate cereal. Not in game face. That made it even creepier. "Wha'?" he mumbled defensively. Chew. Swallow. "You said to find something else. I did."

"B...but...the Count...that's just completely disgusting!" Xander sputtered, still aghast.

"Dunno why. Stays crunchy in blood, like y'said. Endorsed by a cartoon vampire, so it's gotta be good. Even has these cute little marshmallow ghosts in it," Spike teased. "Besides, blood n' chocolate...it's like vampire Viagra." He waggled one dark eyebrow in a way that would have been distubingly sexy if he hadn't still had traces of chocolatey blood around his lips.

OK, it's still disturbingly sexy, but also disgusting, if that's possible. Welcome to the Hellmouth. "TMI..." Xander muttered.

"Eh?"

"Too Much Information."

"It's the iron content, or somethin'," Spike went on, grinning.

Dammit, he's doing this on purpose! "It's my childhood, Spike," Xander tried to explain.

"Eh?" again.

"You've just poured blood over my childhood and now you're crunching it to pieces with your big vampire teeth." He reached for the box, and Spike blocked his way with his non-spoon-holding hand.

"How poetic. Too bad. S'good. I like it. Nummy." The vampire grinned again.

Chocolate Hurricane by Cicirossi

Why you should read this: Great Spike and Xander, and a story that's a great combination of H/C and hot sex and the general hilarity that ensues when this author writes Xander. The poor guy just doesn't know what hit him. Top-notch Xander-babble here, folks. In addition, there is *plot!* The kind of plot that you'd expect to see in canon (well, other than the smut, of course.) This story is a gem.

Good air in. Bad air out. "No Spike. What are you doing here? In my apartment? Now?"

"Oh that. Well, I was waiting for you to get home wasn't I? Got to thinking you might be home soon; figured you'd be ready for a little more push and pull."

"That's it. I'm going to kill you now."

Spike grinned, that infuriating grin that Xander hated so much that it made his cock throb. Oh, pathetic had a new name. Because Xander wanted him. Spike was sitting there in his t-shirt and jeans, feet spread apart on the table and knees bent just so, and Xander wanted him so bad it made him sweat.

"Come and get me, pet."

The pull was too strong to resist, so he went. "Why?" he whispered just before Spike kissed him, but he never got an answer beyond the feel of Spike's lips under his and the touch of Spike's hands on his body. Touches that catalogued the softness of his hair and the tense muscles in his arms, and oh it all felt so good. Even better when somewhere between the couch and the bed Spike pushed him up against the wall and sank to his knees and put his mouth on Xander's cock. At that very moment he was grateful for whatever magic had brought him this, and Xander knew he really was lost.

If you like this story, you might also like: Aftershocks by Joan the English Chick.

Find the River by Seana Renay

Oz/Wesley. Buffy S4, Angel S2 just-post-Reunion. When Oz stops in L.A. during his travels, he runs into newly-unemployed Wesley in a pub. And then there is smut.

Why you should read this: It's an interesting pairing and the author makes it work, which surprised the heck out of me when I first read it. She's got a good grip on both character's voices and I really enjoy her writing style, which is a balance between practical and lyrical that both gets the job done and lets you enjoy the work at the same time.

Oz winced inwardly. It would always hurt, he decided, not for the first time. "About a year and a half ago. I left. I had to learn how to control the wolf," he explained, a little amazed at how casually he could talk about it. "I still love her."

"Forgive me for intruding but if you have in fact learned to control it and the woman you love is in Sunnydale, why are you here?"

"I asked myself the same question a while ago. Turns out the woman she loves is in Sunnydale, too."

"Oh," Wesley said. "Oh!" He leaned forward confidentially. "Really? Willow?"

Oz nodded, with an amused quirk of his eyebrows. "It shocks and amazes. I met her when I went back. Tara. They're in love, it's a good thing. I'm glad she's happy. I couldn't expect her to wait forever."

"But it still hurts," Wesley said for him.

"I said I couldn't expect her to. Never said I didn't want her to."

"Women," Wesley said, a little bitterly, shaking his head.

"And vampires." Oz made a similar gesture.

Wesley frowned, his forehead creasing. "I'm choosing to believe that you're not implying anything."

If you like this story, you might also like: Tangential by Jane St Clair.

Good Intentions by Wolfling and Mad Poetess

Giles/Spike. Season 6 AU set during "Bargaining." Spike asks Giles to stay in Sunnydale after Buffy's death and it turns out it's a good thing he does. Second story in a series called "Paving Stones" that starts with Company in Hell, and is followed by Recruiting and No Way in Hell.

Why you should read this: Elegant writing that knocks me on my ass every time I read it - one of the most professional stories I've read in fanfic. The Wolfling / Mad Poetess writing team is definitely one that makes you stand up and take notice. Not only are Giles and Spike completely believable at every turn, but all of the rest of the characters are excellent as well. This is another one of those stories that artistically weaves its way around canon and ends up a masterpiece.

"Not romantic enough for you?" It was rather frightening that Spike actually managed to sound serious.

"I've had more romantic experiences with my hand and a Mantovanni record," Giles responded sincerely. Somewhere across town, Anya was applauding. Somewhere a bit closer, Spike was looking at him incredulously, then bursting into appreciative laughter. "Oddly enough, I wasn't expecting you to bring flowers, Spike."

Just the thought of Spike showing up on his doorstep with a bouquet of flowers was enough to put a smile on his face at the ridiculousness of the image. Utterly straightfaced, Spike said nothing, but hummed a bit of something. It took Giles a second to recognize "You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore."

"You're disturbed," Giles muttered, trying to squelch his smile.

"And you're making conversation when you could be shagging me," Spike replied, and pressed him against the door.

"Am I?" The smile escaped as his hands came to rest at Spike's waist. "What are you going to do about it?"

Spike grinned back, rather evilly. "Stop talking," he said just before he covered Giles' mouth with his own.

If you like this story, you might also like: An Act of Thanks by Nonie Rider.

A Long Time by Mad Poetess

Spike/Xander. When Xander becomes immortal, the drawbacks just might outweigh the benefits. Spike develops wanderlust and decides he has to leave Sunnydale. And he just keeps leaving.

Why you should read this: After I read this story the first time, I kept thinking about it. And thinking about it. It fucking haunted me. I didn't have any choice but to come back and read it again, and again. I started to feel a bit like Spike, myself - I kept leaving, but I had to keep coming back. I'm not a crier by nature, but this is one of the three Jossverse fan fics that have brought me to actual tears. The characterization is spot on. Xander's angst will make your chest hurt, and Spike's inability to stay is right and heartrendingly painful at the same time.

"Why?" he whispered. "Bloody hell, Xander, why?" Cross-legged on our bedroom floor, holding the pile of books that had been there all along, if he'd been a nosier vampire.

"Helps to pass the time," I answered, which was as true as any other reason, and not really a lie.

He surged back up off the floor, this blood-streaked guy with bleachy-hair and blazing blue eyes. Did I mention I love him? His hand on my chest, near my throat. Fingers making little white marks on my skin.

Feeling the blood pump in my veins. Not quite human blood, but tasty enough for Dru to drink diluted, for Spike to lick and suck and kiss. He sat down on the bed, his back to me. That's okay. I like to look at that too.

Warning: Graphic descriptions of suicide attempts, if that sort of thing bothers you.

If you like this story, you might also like: Human Weakness by Laikokae.

Modus Vivendi by Wiseacress

Spike/Xander. Xander moves to L.A. to start a new life after breaking up with Anya. When some of Spike's enemies see them together, they give Xander a little message to deliver to Spike.

Why you should read this: This is chipped Spike without the Buffy obsession. A bitter, dark Spike like espresso, one who's been robbed of his physical bite but not his verbal one - think "Harsh Light of Day" and "Doomed." Spike isn't often written this close to season 4 canon in fanfic, especially in slash, and that makes this exploration of his personality all the more fascinating. There's a very good original female character who is interesting in a cold, calculating sort of way.

"Keys?" Xander clutched the phone against his belly awkwardly, knees bent, off balance. After a moment he understood that Spike was asking for the car. "Uh, no. No way. And, no."

Spike put his hands on the doorframe and leaned as far into the apartment as he could. "Come on, Xander," he said mildly. "I'm a white hat, here. I drove you home, kept you from plowing wantonly into innocent pedestrians, saved you from the menacing meter maid."

"No," Xander said.

"Oh, grow up. I don't want your crappy car, Harris. I want to get out of this open sore you call home, and that crumpled heap of epoxy is my ride. I'll bring it back."

"And monkeys will fly out my butt," Xander said tiredly, reaching for the door. "Walk, Spike."

"Not keen on that plan," Spike said. "Not 'round here."

"I walk around here all the time," Xander said, which wasn't strictly true. He walked to the bodega, the laundromat, his car.

"Hope you'll keep doing it," Spike said. "But I'm not going to start. Come on, give 'em here."

"Spike," said Xander, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the door. "What you fail to understand is, no. And I don't fucking care."

He expected a quick reply, but there wasn't one. After a moment he opened his eyes and saw that Spike was just watching him. They looked at each other for a long moment.

If you like this story, you might also like: Escape by Juliatheyounger.

Night Watch by the Webrain

Spike/Xander. PWP. On a hot summer night, Xander offers his cock to the wolf with the red... oh, sorry, wrong medium. Xander uses Spike to cool off *and* heat up.

Why you should read this: It's glorious smut. It's PWP, so that's all it has to be to deserve a rec.

Xander glances up to make sure, but he already knows. Spike is looking at him. Jerking off and looking at him.

Time to look away, time to do something. Xander takes a breath and--

"I know you're awake, Xander."

Soft, quiet voice and for a second Xander thinks he's imagined it,because Spike's hand never stops and his gaze doesn't even touch on Xander's face but then, "I know you're watching me."

He can't know, Xander thinks. Can't. Maybe this is Spike jerk off fantasy number 9: Talking dirty to the sleeping boy.

So he doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't close his eye. Just keeps peeking at Spike's face and yeah, his brain was mostly right about that. Still human. Eyebrows slightly knit in concentration, eyelids heavy. Mouth slightly parted and moist, like he'd been staring at Xander, at Xander's cock --which is now obviously hard, obviously straining against the front of boxers-- and licking his lips. And yeah,yeah, there's Spike's tongue, pink tip delicately running over his upper lip. Quick cat lick, then the lower lip, a little slower, lingering at the corner and Xander flushes when he realizes he's doing the same.

And maybe Spike does this all the time. Maybe he looks at Xander every night and Xander's breath hitches as he swallows.

Warning: Some minor formatting issues - dropped punctuation and missing spaces, for the most part. I'm a spaz about that kind of thing and it didn't bother me enough not to rec this, so chances are good it won't bother you enough to make any difference.

If you like this story, you might also like: Byrne's Spike's Movie and its sequel, Xander's Revenge.

Plans by Debchan

Oz/Ethan. Oz on the road after New Moon Rising.

Why you should read this: I do seem to be drawn to some of the more unusual pairings, don't I? Or maybe it's just that people who choose to write unusual pairings seem inclined to do a stellar job of it. In any case, this story blows me away with its descriptive language. Debchan knows Oz and Ethan like the back of her hand - Oz's voice in particular is spot on. And the smut is fantastic. I wish I'd written this story - it's just gorgeous.

Social amenities having been observed, they lapse into silence.  Oz divides his attention between the road and his guest, observes him shiver a little and rolls up his window.

And he really *isn't* the prying type, but in the now still air, Oz can't help but smell him.  Tired smell with the sour undertones of pain/fear sweat.  Ozone.  Cordite.  A familiar smell that makes Oz's teeth itch and want to grow.  Blood, but not a lot and not fresh, so Oz hesitates before quietly saying, "Do you want me to aim for a town with a doctor?"

Ethan gives him a sharp glance.  Raises an eyebrow.  "You're a perceptive young man.  But no."

New smell now.  Also familiar.  Thick and heavy, like molten glass, and the hair on Oz's arms lifts.  Old magic.  Possibly bad magic.

But when he glances over, Ethan just gives him that genial smile again. Okay, maybe a bit more teeth this time, but his hands are folded on his lap and he doesn't smell pissed.  Just wary.   So, "Okay."

If you like this story, you might also like: The rest of the Unpossessed Country series: Sun by Te, Moon by The Spike, Ash and Ember by Te, Animus by The Spike, and South by Debchan.

Post-Grad by Te

Spike/Xander. Spoilers through "Enemies." Is followed by the equally delicious Post-Grad II: On Holiday, which I was originally going to review right along with "Post-Grad." Upon re-reading the first story, though, I realized that it made more sense just to concentrate on it alone. That doesn't mean that you shouldn't also read "Post-Grad II" - you must, along with the collection of lovely shorter snippets that follow.

Why you should read this: Excellent, excellent Xander voice. His despair is palpable and believable, and throughout it he still sounds like Xander. Te does a nice job with descriptive language - enough to create mood and imagery without pushing over the line into too much. Spike is dark and deliciously bad. Can a story be hopeless and hopeful at the same time? I think this one is.

Spike ran his tongue over Xander's teeth and there was that sudden extra erogenous zone -- was this what it meant to be orally fixated? Xander pulled back, gestured Spike to lay down flat. Spike proceeded to smolder at him. Xander's life was seeming better by the instant. Maybe he would continue to go naked...

Thoughts for later. He leaned in to lap at Spike's nipples, suck a little. Avoided using his teeth by sheer force of will. Spike made it easier by pushing down on his shoulders -- it really was true that doing good was its own reward. Xander tried a stab at his navel, did it again because there was salt there, and one more time because it was like fucking the human part of him, more than anything else.

And Spike's fingers felt so good on his fevered skin, moving and stroking and caressing and pushing. Xander was getting a taste for this manipulation. He wanted Spike to force him into things, to pull and squeeze and maybe hurt him into cooperation. It was his fault, and it wasn't and sharing the guilt was good because it made you harder. Culpable. Everything got easier when there was no possible redemption.

Angel hadn't figured that out yet, perhaps. But Xander had.

If you like this story, you might also like: Lacrimosa by Sally.

Sands of Time by James Walkswithwind and Wolfling

Spike/Xander. Long series consisting of a number of finished stories and some that are planned out but not yet written. Xander moves out of his parent's house and in with Giles, and then things with Spike start to get... interesting. Follows Xander through high school, overseas with a visit to Giles' family in England, and into college. So far.

Why you should read this: This series appeals to the hurt / comfort junkie in me. That's certainly not the only reason I read it (repeatedly) - and it's not the only reason you should read it, either - but it's a big part of the appeal, from my perspective. The Spike/Xander sex scenes are very hot, and because this is pre-chip Spike the implications of a Spike/Xander relationship are deep and sometimes troubling. Xander has to struggle with his decision to keep his relationship with Spike hidden from Giles, and being in his head throughout this series is a fascinating ride. Artistically written without being pretentious.

Giles goodness, from Sandy Places in the Heart:

"I phoned Willow. You left her over two hours ago. It doesn't take that long to walk from her place to here. Where were you?" Giles demanded, his voice getting louder as he spoke.

"I was on my way home." Xander swallowed nervously. He froze as Giles took another step closer, then jumped backwards into the wall as Giles raised his hand.

Giles' eyes widened and his expression turned into one of horrified realization and he immediately lowered his hand. Speaking softly, as if to a spooked animal, he said, "Oh, god. Xander...it's all right, Xander. No one's going to hurt you."

"Yeah, I know." His voice sounded funny. Was he shaking? Oh, god, what if Giles did hit him? What on earth....

"I'm not going to hit you. I'll never hit you. You have my word." He was looking steadily into Xander's eyes, still speaking in that soft voice.

Xander knew -- sort of -- that Giles was telling the truth. He knew that Giles believed it.

He was still shaking.

On the other hand, he really, really wanted to believe Giles, too. He must have made a noise, because Giles was there beside him, suddenly. Not threatening, not anything except looking like he wanted to hold him.

"May I-?" Giles asked, not touching without permission.

Xander had to take a deep breath, then he nodded, diving in towards Giles even as Giles was raising his arms again. Then those arms were closing around him, hugging him comfortingly, reassuringly. He dropped his head on Giles' shoulder. His breath was coming in shudders; he wasn't sure if it was from this or leftover from -- what *had* he been thinking, talking to Spike that way?

He had no idea why Spike had decided to let him live.

He grabbed onto Giles, hanging on as tightly as he could. Giles held him just as tightly, murmuring, "It's all right," over and over.

Spike goodness, from Sandy Places In the Heart:

"Are you coming in, or are you going to keep standing there? I can't come out and get you, you know." Spike was standing just inside the doorway, watching him.

Xander spared a moment to glare at his feet. 'See if I let you have your way again,' he scolded them. Aloud, he said, "I..uh..wouldn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep or anything."

Spike grinned. "Don't have to. You can join me."

Oh, that would be a Very Bad Idea. "Thanks, but I'm not really tired," he said, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth it had to be one of the lamest things he'd ever said.

Spike's mouth twitched. "Oh, we don't have to sleep, luv." He'd taken one step backwards, still in front of the shadows where Xander could see his face. See his entire body -- Spike was wearing only jeans and his ever-present red silk shirt. What was the deal with red silk shirts, anyhow? Xander wondered.

"Yeah, well I don't have any great desire to be a mid afternoon snack either." Vampire, he reminded parts of his body that were taking too much interest. Bad man. Not a good idea.

Sidelines by Anna S.

Spike/Xander. This is more a series of little vignettes that flow together than a complete story. Set during season 4, it pulls a little canon-switcheroo with Xander becoming the one who has the Big Revelation that he's gay, instead of Willow. Contains a really interesting rewrite of the Xander dream from "Restless," and takes a number of other little forays into canon.

Why you should read this: I really can't say enough good things about this story or its author. Anna is, from my perspective at least, one of the finest technical writers in fanfic. The sex in this story is unbelievably hot. This is Spike at his pre-Buffylove best: angry, sarcastic, as Big as Bad can be with a chip in his head.

Crashes and curses sounded from the hallway. It was the sofa fairy.

"Bugger!" Spike bellowed from somewhere outside Xander's field of vision, and suddenly a boot kicked an armchair into view outside the open door. Spike appeared a moment later, coat off and sleeves rolled up, wrestling the chair into submission. He knocked it aggressively around on its legs as he shoved it at the doorway, glowered in baffled rage when it didn't fit through the frame, then hauled off and began kicking its ass again and again in a savage frenzy. Pausing to look up, he scowled. "Could use some help here."

"Right now, Spike, you're my television. Do that dance again."

Spike huffed and finally managed to drive the chair into the room by brute force, but like some terrified animal, the chair resisted any attempt to slide it across the floor. The vampire picked it up and threw it bodily ten feet, landing it right-side up with a bang directly across from Xander, who continued to eat his pizza. Spike skulked over, tossed himself viciously into the cowed seat and drew out his cigarettes.

"I'm thinking a career in home decoration isn't for you. With your temperament, you might want to consider long-distance trucking. Maybe chef school."

Buffy opened door number one and revealed Riley, who smiled and gave them a well-balanced greeting somewhere between cheerful and earnest.

"Pookie muffin honey-cakes," Buffy chirped.

Riley's face went blank as internal guy circuits processed the greeting. "Are we.... we're on endearments. I'm behind again, aren't I?" He took a deep breath. "Pookie?"

Smiling, Buffy closed the door behind him. "I'm just fishing for the fear. I admit it, I'm a fear junkie."

"I think the attraction is supposed to be your own fear."

"Oh. I like other people's fear. Does that make me a sadist?"

If you like this story, you might also like: Sweet Revenge by Jackson.

Soft by Juliatheyounger

Spike/Tara. Buffy S6, post-Tabula Rasa. Runs through further episodes of Season 6 in a convoluted AU sort of way. Tara's trying to get on with her life after leaving Willow, and Spike is all torn up about Buffy, so they, er, comfort each other. Contains some T/W and S/B.

Why you should read this: This is such an unusual pairing - I'm sure there are more S/T fics out there, but I haven't run across more than a handful and most of the ones I've seen aren't nearly as good as this. It's written in Juliatheyounger's interesting style of back-and-forth character POVs, which while I'd imagine is awkward to write really does allow the reader to see inside both character's heads during the same scene. This is sweet and angsty and gentle.

She found me. I was on my way home. Or at least I thought I was. Somehow though I ended up at the University end of town. Place I tend to steer clear of since the Initiative business a couple of years ago. I know they're gone, but you never can be too careful. I'd been out, at the Bronze, I think. Having a couple of quiet drinks. Trying not to think about Buffy. Trying not to think about that night again. Trying to stop myself from going and begging her for something, anything. So I did drink a bit. Anyway, there I was, making my way home, when suddenly she's there. Touching my arm, saying , "Spike?" in that tentative way of hers. As if she ain't got no right to speak or some bollocks. I understand that, but I ain't going to tell you why.

And I told her I was fine. Just on my way home. That's what I thought I was saying anyway. And then, just to prove it, I threw up. Her hands were on my shoulders, rubbing them, just so. It was…nice, comforting. Haven't had comforting in so long.

She took me back to her place. And sat me down and gave me some hot chocolate. Even though I kept telling her I was fine. She felt so…soft, as she helped me stand, helped me walk. Reminded me of Joyce a bit, the kindness.

So I'm sitting at her table with her, drinking hot chocolate. I must be really drunk though, cause when she asks if I want to talk about it, I do.

Truth or Dare by Byrne

Spike/Xander. Lighthearted story about Xander playing a game of Truth or Dare with the Scoobies. POV alternates between Spike and Xander.

Why you should read this: I have an unusual fondness for this story because it is the very first BtVS slash I ever read, and if it hadn't been so good I probably wouldn't have bothered reading any more. It's just lovely - cheerful and pleasant with excellent Xander characterization and some very hot smut. If you're looking for angst, darkness, misery, or death, you'll have to go elsewhere.

Spike was next to me before he noticed the human toppling and when the guy grabbed Spike's shoulder to catch himself he pushed Spike right into me. And, oh fuck, right into my cock. Jesus. It was all I could do not to come on the spot, and yes, I moaned.

I opened my eyes when I realized that Spike was still pressed into me. I looked into his eyes, his pupils were large and his eyes were a deeper blue than I had seen before. He moved slightly and I realized that the hardness pressed into my hip wasn't his hip bone.

When he spoke his voice was husky and he had to clear his throat. "Is this the part where you say 'My place or yours?' " he asked.

I managed to speak, but my voice was strained and low. "No, this is where I say let's get the hell out of here before I ruin my pants. Then I say we're going to my place."

He nodded and grabbed my hand. We were out the door before anyone could blink.

If you like this story, you might also like: A Test of Skill by CiciRossi.

We're Not Gay. We're Just Friends. Who Have Sex. by Juliatheyounger

Spike/Xander. Spike and Xander get drunk and watch sports and talk about gay sex. Then they, you know, experiment with the gay sex. Then they get drunk and play pool and do a little more experimenting. Then there's more watching of sports, and then at some point there's a game of Strip Operation. No, really.

Why you should read this: Okay, clearly the sheer fun of this story is resulting in my getting carried away writing this review. This story is Big Fun. It's cleverly written and the POV shifts back and forth between Spike and Xander very frequently, which is nowhere near as confusing as it sounds. In fact, it works beautifully and it's quite easy to tell whose POV you're in just by the character voices. Lovely Xander-babble. Lovely Spike-speak. Bloody hot sex.

Xander is just looking at me like I grew another head. Or I vamped out or something. Not quite sure which part of what I just said freaked him out but something did. I shrug and take another pull on my bottle of weak American ale. Kid better snap out of it soon or I'm gonna have to finish his beer for him.

I frown, going over what I just said trying to figure out exactly what it was that shook the whelp up so much. I'm a bit drunk. Ok a lot drunk. And remembering isn't the easiest trick when you're a lot drunk. Particularly if you weren't paying attention to what you're saying in the first place. Didn’t think he was either, til he got that weirded out look on his face.

Ok. I'll start from the beginning and work from there. Xander was here. We were drinking. We were talking. Actually talking. Like buddy-buddy kind of people. Ahhh beer, the social lubricant. At that thought I take another sip.

Lubricant. That's right. Sex. We were talking about sex. Xander was waxing lyrical about his ex-demon ex. Bout how good a lay she was. How he missed that. That pathetic kind of thing. And so I said a couple of things. I mean, I do have what, a hundred and twenty, a hundred and thirty years experience. Should be allowed to impart a bit of that knowledge. And suddenly he's looking at me like I just offered to paint myself purple and dance naked on a harpsicord, quoting Blackadder.

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Stories in Unusual Formats:

Essential Fragility by K.V. Wylie. Giles/Buffy/Willow. Journal format.

The RPG from Hell by The Brat Queen and Meredith - BtVS/Angel crossover. Email format.

Strange Bedfellows by Keren and Meredith - Buffy/Spike. Script format.

Techsupport@demon.com by Perri Smith - BtVS/Angel crossover. Email format.

Watching Over by Lesley, Lori, and Magpie - Giles/Spike/Wesley. Het. Livejournal format. The blog entries by the characters are part of a series, Eyes Only, that also includes stories.