Dear Wills,

I've been staring at those two words now for 10 minutes, and with each minute they seem more and more inadequate. I don't know what else to write though, so I guess they'll have to do. Never was too good with the book learning. You would know; you're always so good with words. Is there a right thing to say in a situation like this? Are there any words that will take all the pain away? I wish I knew-then maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

I hate that you're going to be the one to find me, and this note. Your last memories of me shouldn't be my pale, empty, lifeless shell of a body, but I just can't hang on. I feel so numb inside. It's a scarier feeling than facing a hundred vamps with no stake. I have to make it end.

I want you to know why, you deserve that much at least. If you can understand, then maybe you can explain it to the others and not make me seem so pathetic. Even if that's how I feel.

It's all his fault. I hate him: that bleached blond, bumpy-faced, leather wearing, fucking bastard.

We usually don't keep secrets from each other and I'm sorry I started with this one. I probably should have talked to you a long time ago about this, but it's too late now. I can't take it back, no matter how much I want to.

The past couple of months have been torture. It's hard finding the words to describe it. I feel like I've been split into two different people. There's the one you guys see every day cracking jokes about G-Man's thing for tweed or Deadboy's lack of pulse issues. He's the one with the easy smile, and the knack for breaking the tension. There is also the one who comes out at night who only he sees. That Xander doesn't smile, and he doesn't have any jokes. All he feels is the pain and the misery and the sick need for it not to end.

I don't even know why he started it, and I've been too scared to ask him, in case he decided to stop. He just wrangled an invite into the apartment from me one night, and before I knew it we spent every night together, and I'm not talking about slumber parties.

Did you feel any of this insecurity when you first met Tara? Probably not, since I doubt Tara has the tendency to go into gameface and bite herself to get the taste of blood when she climaxes. Unless there is something about your sex life you haven't told me.

Spike did that every time; I guess because he couldn't bite me. I could see him get that look in his eyes when he was reaching his peak, as if I were a slab of prime steak. I know he would have bitten me if he could, but I could never bring myself to care.

It just felt so right to be with him. I finally felt what I didn't even realize was missing from my life. Whenever we were together my world made a kind of sense that it never did before with girls. He made me feel whole, and I gave myself over to him completely in the hopes that maybe I did the same for him.

That all changed afterward though.

Spike isn't much of a cuddler. He gets out of bed, puts on his clothes and leaves without a word, leaving me with an almost overwhelming feeling of emptiness inside, and I hate him for it.

That's just it though-I don't hate him, I love him. I love Spike. He just doesn't love me back.

Tonight I needed something to fill the void, a kind word, a contented grunt: some acknowledgement that I meant something to him, so I said it. I opened my mouth, inserted my foot and watched my world disintegrate before me. He was doing up the fly of his jeans when I reached out my hand, gently laid it on his bare back and said, "I love you Spike."

He laughed.

He actually laughed at me. The sound of his laughter was like acid on an open wound. It was so mocking and full of contempt. He didn't even turn around; he just continued to get dressed.

I don't know why that should have surprised me. Did I actually expect him to love me back? Marvel at my track record: a self-obsessed cheerleader, a homicidal Slayer, and an ex-demon who couldn't leave fast enough after losing her ex status. Why did I think this time it could turn out any better?

But you. My Willow. I know you love me, and that's the only thing that has made me have any second thoughts about this. It's not enough though, not after what I did.

That empty feeling I used to get after Spike and I had sex was like a waterfall of emotion compared to the hollowness I felt when he laughed at me. His scorn made me want to curl up in the deepest darkest hole I could find, and hide away from the world.

That didn't last long. The rage hit me so hard and fast, filling up the hollow core inside me.

You know that old saying about being angry enough to see red? It's true. My world turned crimson and I could feel the blood pumping through my body, the rushing sound of it ringing in my ears. All I could think was that nobody laughs at me, nobody laughs at me.

I reached under my pillow and brought out the stake I keep for emergencies. I rammed it into his back, through his heart and out through his chest.

The rage was gone before the stake even made it through, but as I seem to keep saying, it was too late. He exploded into a pile of dust and scattered over the floor.

I loved him so much, but I killed him anyway. What does that say about me? Why couldn't he love me back, Will? Am I that repulsive? Why couldn't he just love me?

And if I could kill the man that I loved, who else could I kill? Who would be next on my list? I can't live with the knowledge of what I have done or the possibility of what I could be capable of, so it's just better for everyone if it all ends now.

I wonder if it will hurt? I hope it does: then maybe my last few moments will be filled with something other than this nothingness; this numb feeling creeping through my soul. What was it that Spike said just before the battle with Glory? It's always got to be blood. Blood is life; it's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead. Seems kind of fitting now I guess.

Please don't come into the bathroom after you read this, you don't want to see. Just call Giles, he'll know what to do. He always knows what to do.

I'm sorry, Wills. I hope you can forgive me.

All my love,

Xander

** The End **

"Hey, Xan." Xander saw Spike float up into view, then moved aside to make room for Spike to sit down beside him.

"Hi, Spike. Good day at the office?" A standard question and a running joke between them, not that it was really funny any more, after all these years.

Xander could barely contain his excitement at seeing Spike again. He hated having to wait a week in order to talk to his husband. Xander felt like he was in hospital or jail, having to wait for visiting hours to come around.

"Ha bloody ha mate," Spike flopped down beside Xander, looking miserable. Xander knew that Spike hated his job. His boss was a nightmare, taking a perverse delight in harassing and humiliating him.

"What did he do now?"

"He only sent me to the bloody 16th dimension again. Wanker!"

"Not the Slime Pits of Dregnor?" Spike's boss loved to give him all the worst assignments. The Slime Pits of Dregnor in the 16th dimension, were infamous. The slime actually wasn't so bad once you got used to the smell. No, the worst part was the race of demons that resided there. They were very small, no bigger than your hand, but they loved to do things with their bodily excretions that most people don't like to discuss in polite company.

"The bastard does it to me on purpose, I swear. He saves up all the worst jobs, just so he can have the satisfaction of giving them to me."

"I'm sorry Spikey." Xander put on his best sympathetic face. "But he's not the master of Hell because he's a big fluffy pussy cat, you know? Just forget about him, he's not worth the aggravation. I mean, what kind of name is Satan anyway?"

"Soddin' stupid name." Spike said through his pout.

"Too right. Or Lucifer? Sounds like a girl's name. The man can't even stick to one name, who does he think he is, The Demon formerly known as the Prince of Darkness, or something?"

"Don't forget Beelzebub...or The Devil."

"Right! Exactly. I mean Beelzebub, what kind of name is that? That name is striking fear in nobody's hearts."

"Actually pet, it kinda does."

"Yeah, I know. But I'm trying to make you feel better here, ya wanna play along?"

"Oh right! Yeah pet, nobody's scared of that name. The guy's just a big red freak. How's that?"

"Much better!"

Spike chuckled at Xander's attempts to cheer him up, but it didn't last long. Spike's shoulders slumped, and a frown once again marred his handsome face.

"Is there something else wrong?"

"Yeah, well...they kinda found out."

"Who found out what?"

"The guys at work, they sorta foundouthowIdied." Spike rushed the last part, knowing the reaction he was going to get.

As he predicted, Xander immediately fell back in a fit of giggles. Spike let out a long-suffering sigh and folded his arms together in a huff. "Fine! Laugh at my pain, I don't care."

Xander did his best to quash his laughter. "I'm sorry Spike. So how did they" *snicker* "find out?"

"It was Him again, I'll bet you. The bastard will do anything to humiliate me."

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad. So we were both simultaneously skewered through the heart by a Kenruck demon. That's not embarrassing," *snort* "is it?"

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."

"I know, but it still can't be that bad."

"Not for you maybe, but it was bloody embarrassing for me. I was a master vampire for Hell's sake. If I had to die, it should have been while fighting the Slayer or something, not doing that. I have a reputation to uphold."

"I thought you would have been quite happy to die having sex?"

"Yeah, maybe if I was screwing you into the mattress. It's not quite as dignified if I die with your dick up my arse, up against an alley wall with my legs wrapped round you, like a bloody chit."

"Yeah, but it was fun though." Xander sighed, his eyes glazing over slightly, staring off into space.

"Even that, I think I could live with...or not, but you just had to go a step further didn't you?"

"Oh, you are so not blaming this on me. You were as into it as I was, or you wouldn't have done it. It was dark, and we were only in the alley next to the apartment. How was I supposed to know anyone would see us, let alone a demon? You were the one who pissed him off earlier by stealing his bottle of Jack Daniels."

"So, now it's my fault. I wasn't the one to suggest our little fantasy night was I? I wasn't the one who suggested we could dress up a bit and try role-playing. I wasn't the one who thought pretending to be Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in Pretty Women would be fun, and I certainly wasn't the one who got to be Richard Gere."

"But Spike, you looked so good in stockings and high heels." Xander once again erupted into a fit uncontrollable laughter.

"I went on a soul collecting assignment the other day, and I came back to find the guys had decorated my cubicle with all this...female stuff."

"Female stuff?" Xander asked through the giggling.

"You know, compacts, lipsticks, pantyhose, a couple of bras, some sanitary towels and tampons..." Spike trailed off at the end, barely able to keep his own face straight, Xander's laughter becoming infectious.

"They even left a pregnancy test." Spike couldn't keep control any longer and his own deep rumbling laughter now filled the air.

Xander's amusement only grew more intense now that Spike had joined in.

"All I can say is, thank God you don't have to spend eternity in the clothes you die in."

"Amen to that."

The laughter slowly died down as they managed to gain a measure of control over themselves again.

"Speaking of the Big Guy, how's he treating you?"

"The same I guess. Oh, I asked him about our petition for conjugal visits again."

"And?" Spike asked with a hopeful half smile.

"Still no go." Spike's features dropped again. "He still said he would only review it after the 100th anniversary of our deaths. That's the rule."

"Bloody stupid rule," Spike muttered under his breath. "How long has it been so far?"

"Ummm, 55 years in November. At least we're over half way there," Xander said, trying to find the bright side.

"Fuck! I don't know if I can wait another 45 bloody years 'til I can touch you again." Spike voice was low and husky. He reached his hand out and left it hovering over Xander's cheek. They both slowly started to lean forward towards each other. "I miss the feel of your warm body under mine..." The rest of Spike's words were muffled as their lips met in a hungry, passionate kiss.

CRASH BOOM

The two men flew apart in fright as the lightening bolt struck mere feet from where they were sitting.

"Oh come on! It was only a little kiss. Give a randy bloke a break." Spike shouted up in the air at nothing.

"This all-knowing, all-seeing thing He has is a real bitch sometimes, huh?"

"Don't know why I can't even touch you. It's not as if we weren't already married for nine years when we died. What's His bloody problem?"

"I guess He's just very protective of His angels. Especially when they're married to literal horny little devils like you," Xander joked. He reached his hand out toward one of the stubby little red horns coming out of Spike's temple. He stopped just a couple of millimetres short and withdrew it with a frustrated sigh.

"We've lasted this long, I'm sure the next 45 years will just fly by," Xander said, attempting (but not quite managing) to inject a little enthusiasm into his voice.

Spike grunted, shrugging his shoulders and pouting again.

Xander racked his brain to come up with a change of subject.

"Ooo, I saw Buffy the other day."

"Oh joy." Spike said, infusing as much sarcasm as was possible into his words. "How is her Saint Buffness then?"

"She got a promotion. Again! She is such a God's pet." Xander cowered a little and quickly looked up, expecting another warning clap of thunder. When nothing happened he continued.

"She was full of, God said this, and God said that, and God invited me over to his place for a personal viewing of this years Aurora Borealis, blah blah blah." Xander used his hand like a puppet, moving his fingers in time with his words. "And you know with each promotion she gets a new set of wings. You should see her wing span now, I'm surprised she doesn't keep falling backward with the weight of the damn things."

"Nothin' wrong with your wings, pet. I like 'em. It's like having my own personal little Cupid."

Xander smiled brightly and flapped his wings happily. "You think?"

"Definitely luv." Spike glanced quickly upward before lunging forward and burying his face in the soft velvety warmth of Xander's feathers. He let out a contented sigh just before...

CRASH BOOM sizzle

...there was another clap of thunder and a bolt of lightening struck Spike on the head. His hair was charred and smoke was rising up from the burn.

"Oh baby, are you okay?" Xander asked, the concern evident on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Spike said, patting furiously at his head making sure he didn't burst into flames.

"Well I guess that's my cue to leave pet. I'd better go."

"Ooooh, already? I swear, He keeps changing the flow of time all willy nilly just to make out visits shorter."

"My place? Same time next week?" Spike asked as he hopped off his perch on the cloud they were sitting on, and started to float back down.

"Yeah, see you then. Love you."

"Love you too."

A thought suddenly occurred to Xander and he shouted down at Spike's rapidly descending form. "Don't forget the air conditioning next time. Remember, some of us aren't used to the heat."

**The End**