The Fairy Plot Bunny was not done gnawing on me.
This was inspired by sueworld2003's delightful images and a couple of drabbles others have posted.
Spike/Xander, Rated R for some strange slash sex.

The central image is Fairy Kisses by Fanbot. Click here to see more of her wonderful manips

When Love is Voiced


Part One

Buffy leaned over and looked into the beautifully detailed Victorian doll house. Little carefully carved chairs sat around an equally detailed table. A canopied bed sat in silken splendor. “You’ve done some beautiful work here, Xander,” she said.

“Thank you. I made some hellishly ugly things when I first started.”

Buffy returned to the couch and sat beside her old friend. “You never see him?”

Xander looked away and shook his head. He did see the wee person who lived in the doll house, but he’d never tell. They’d all want to see him, too. She didn’t know he sat that very minute on the top of the book case in the shadows between two books. “But I know when he’s been here. The blood’s gone, pages are turned on the books and the bed’s unmade.”

Buffy chuckled. “Spike always was a bit slobby.”

“Not really.” Buffy gave him a puzzled look. “I mean, not always. When he was forced to live with me or Giles, sure, his evil ways made him be slobby. That damn chip limited him so. But didn’t you notice that after his rampages or parties or what the hell ever went on in his crypt,” Xander ignored Buffy’s blush, “he always cleaned it up.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So no leads on the change Spike from fairy to proper vampire front?” Just because he was watching for it did Xander see a flurry of wings within the shadow.

“Perhaps. Giles is tracking down a scroll in Tibet which sounds promising.”

They’d had false hopes before. Xander just nodded. “Good.”

Buffy closed her eyes and drew in a hitching breath. “God! If I had known he’d be cursed…”

Xander moved close beside her and put his arm around her. “That forest clearing looked like every other. You didn’t know, Buffy. None of us did. Until the wee folk came out and told us.” Xander shivered at the memory of being confronted by the angry queen of the fairies. A small as she was, her energy packed quite a punch. She’d claimed their greatest warrior and left them a riddle as the key to his transformation.

~When sun claims moon and love is voiced, what once was will be again.~

Buffy wiped away her tears. “Still. I feel so bad. I hope he knows.”

“He does, Buffy. I’m certain of it.” He didn’t tell her of the long talks they had. Xander would lay still in bed and Spike would come out in the darkness. Xander had to just whisper, and Spike would lay on the pillow beside his ear to be heard.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“He’ll love the book of poems, I know.” Buffy had found a palm-sized, leather-bound book with pages thin as onion skin.

“I hope so.” She saw Xander bite at the side of a nail and took his hand in hers. “What else? Anything?”

Xander hesitated. “Well, I was thinking. He used to go on about... Slayer’s blood.”

“Oh? Oh!”

“Just… just a thimble full?”

“Yeah.” Buffy paused. “That’s doable. Just don’t blame me if he winds up humping your teddy bear. He always told me it was a vampire aphrodisiac.”

Xander willed Spike to stay put as Buffy made a cut on her hand and bled into a small cup. “There. I hope he enjoys it.”

Buffy made her leave, and the door wasn’t closed before a four inch tall figure landed beside the cup. Xander sat at the table and laughed softly at the silk-draped backside wiggling in the air as Spike bent over the cup and ducked his head in. His long dragon-fly like wings fluttered in pleasure.

Spike stood up, threw his head back, and let out a fine howl that Xander could only just hear. His fanged mouth was wide and Xander knew he was laughing as the Slayer’s blood ran down his face and chest.

“Hey!” Xander said, putting a bit of napkin near the cup. “Just don’t drip blood all over the place when you take off.”

Spike shrugged broadly and dived back into the cup. Xander put his head on the table and watched his friend enjoy himself. Damn. It felt good to see Spike enjoying himself this much. He wasn’t sure how he’d become Spike’s guardian, but he was grateful. Through their long talks, he’d come to know the man behind the big bad and enjoy Spike’s company.

The riddle went through his mind again. When sun claims moon and love is voiced, what once was will be again. Hell, maybe once Spike was his old self again he’d risk voicing his own love.

Part Two

Xander didn’t often get to study Spike. The vampire hated his cursed existence, but Xander found him beautiful. His limbs looked longer, like he’d been stretched a bit. His bleached hair had long since grown out, and his naturally brownish blonde waves were pulled back and tied. His long wings caught the lamp light and threw back opalescent shine. Muscles worked in his narrow back and his ass… Xander shook himself. Shouldn’t think of wee Spike that way. The vamp would find a way to kill him for certain.

Xander distracted himself by remembering how it had all started over a year before. After the first week of everyone poking and cooing at him in attempt to turn him back, Spike flew off into the night to make his own way.

Willow tried location spells and Buffy kept her eyes and ears open for rumors. But that very night, Xander remembered his bedtime stories and left a small bowl out with a few drops of blood and a few crumbled bits of Wheatibix in it. Each morning, he found the blood congealed and the cereal untouched, but he continued to put it out every night.

Finally, he awoke to find the blood and cereal gone and a couple of tiny bloody footprints. Xander told no one, yet kept putting the food out. Things started appearing in the bowl. A quarter, a shiny button, an antique key. His favorite was a scrap torn from a greeting card. There was a tiny handprint in blood beneath the words “Thanks for everything.”

He started leaving things for Spike. Xander left a blade from an Exacto knife on the edge of the dish. That earned him a fifty dollar bill. He picked up a silk handkerchief as fine as spider web at a thrift store. That got him a ten.

Obeying some unspoken understanding, Xander never tried to see Spike. After all, that was what had driven him off in the first place.

About two months into this strange situation, Xander badly sprained his leg. At first his friends were with him all the time, in and out of the basement. He could not bring himself to mention Spike to them, apart from asking after leads. But as he got more mobile, they went back to their busy lives. At his first opportunity, Xander hobbled to the window. The bowl was smashed to bits and a rotting fish head lay in the ruins. Xander cleaned up the mess and put out a bowl he’d found the day he broke his leg.

It was fine bone china with a pattern of morning glories around the edge. He wrote a tiny note saying he was sorry and put out a thimble of beer and a few chocolate chips in addition to the blood. Exhausted, he hobbled back to bed and propped his wrapped leg up on pillows without closing the window.

He awoke abruptly around midnight after feeling something touch his face. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a glimpse of white at the window through sleep-blurred eyes. The next morning, the offerings were gone and the bowl was intact. Xander figured all was forgiven.

After that, he left he window open a crack. His “payments” started appearing on the kitchen counter. Being confined to bed, Xander started making things. Little things. He’d leave them on the counter and woke up eagerly to see what Spike had done with them.

Summer turned to fall and it became too cool to leave the window open. Bravely, he left a note. “Would you like to spend the winter here?” and little boxes beside the words yes no and maybe like in grade school notes he and Willow would pass. He was delighted when a handprint appeared beside yes.

But what could make a tiny vampire fairy comfortable? He went to the hobby shop and found a set of pencils that were two inches long, a pad of post-it notes, and some soft linen napkins. He left his finds on the counter with a note. “What do you need to be comfy?”

He’d had to work out the scrawl that covered four little pieces of paper, but almost all the requests were reasonable. He’d have to puzzle out how to provide the vamp with European soccer on TV later.

He installed a 6 inch square make-shift door in a gap in the window. He’d gotten a sturdy wooden crate and put it, as requested, in a corner with the open side facing the wall to give the vamp some privacy. In it, he put the linens, a small flashlight, and a few small books he’d bought. It was a little while before he could sleep that night.

The next morning, the latch was in place on the door and the blood was gone. A post-it on his coffee maker said “Thanks, mate.” “You’re welcome,” Xander said to the unseen Spike and left for work.

They developed a system of notes and counter notes. When Spike wanted something beyond Xander’s means, Spike would leave money. Xander figured it was best to not ask where it came from. The box grew a second room and an “attic.”

It was bitterly cold one October day and Xander’s construction job sent him home early. He stopped at the Magic Box on the way home to ask about leads on the Spike situation. Giles congratulated him on being optimistic, and pretty much confirmed they had all given Spike up for lost or dead.

When he came home, he heard the little radio in Spike’s “apartment” playing. Xander flopped on the couch and closed his eyes. He heard the radio switch off and felt himself being watched. He never looked for Spike, and almost wondered if he was suffering some psychosis. Lately, he’d started talking to his guest.

“Hey, Spike. It was too cold to pour concrete, so they sent us home.” Xander toed off his shoes. “I went by the Magic Box. I… I think they’ve all quit looking for a cure. They think you’re dead, Spike. I’ve not told them about you living here.” Xander scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly. “I’ve read all I can find on fairies and pixies and wee folk and those that dwell in gardens and forests. I can’t find anything. I can’t find your cure, Spike.” No one was more surprised than Xander when he started to cry.

He curled into himself and clutched a pillow to his chest. He didn’t open his eyes until a tissue dropped on his face. Xander took the tissue and wiped his eyes. “Thanks.”

He almost didn’t hear the little voice that said, “any time, mate.”

Xander opened his eyes to see Spike sitting on top of the tissue box. He wore one of the black silk handkerchiefs toga style with a bit of silver elastic tied about his waist as a belt. Xander smiled to see his friend. “What should we do? If I don’t tell them, they won’t look.”

Spike studied his hands then turned to the great big face before him. “Tell them.”

“I’m sorry, Spike, I can’t hear you.”

Spike flitted over and landed on Xander’s shoulder. “Just don’t roll over, okay?”

“Sure.” It was weird to have the big bad on his shoulder like one of the devils and angels that show up in cartoons. Well, maybe like the devils.

Spike sat down on the soft warm flannel and addressed the cavern of an ear before him. “Tell them, just… don’t let them know I’m around that much. I don’t want to be seen.”

“I wouldn’t be lying,” Xander said quietly.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“This is nice, by the way.”

“What is? Having a money fairy and someone to chase the gnomes out of the house?”


“Nasty buggers. Like to chew the wiring.”

“Oh. No. I meant talking to you.”

“Yeah, it is.”

The next day, Xander told Giles an edited version of his story. He said he’d not seen Spike, and didn’t think the vampire came around every night. When asked for proof it was Spike and not some pretender, Xander presented a post-it note with the words “Leave more Wheatibix” on it. They all agreed it had to be Spike, and the search resumed.

After that, they had long talks. Spike still felt shy at first, so it was in the dark they would talk.

Xander was brought back to the present by the sight of Spike giving up and climbing into the cup. When the tiny head popped up all covered in blood, Xander had to laugh. Spike had always threatened to roll in the Slayer’s blood.

“Don’t go trailing that all over now.”

Spike leaned against the side of the cup and Xander leaned close to hear him. “Nah. Too full to flutter. How about a hot bath, luv?”

“And would mesire like a back rub to go with that?”

“It’s not my back needs rubbing.” Spike moved his arm beneath the rim of the cup and Xander turned quickly away.

He took his time in getting a bowl and half filling it with hot water. Spike could work the taps himself, but Xander told himself he didn’t want to clean up blood drops. He steadied himself, crossed the room, and put the bowl on the table beside the cup. He busied himself fetching a washcloth/towel for Spike. When he came back, Spike was busily scrubbing. He motioned Xander close.

“How about putting a lid on that for later? It’s a shame to waste any of it.” Spike pointed to the cup. There was still a film of blood on the bottom.

When Xander returned from the fridge, he found Spike toweling out his hair. He dropped the towel and fluttered his wings, sending little water drops everywhere. Xander could not take his eyes from the prominent erection Spike now sported.

The vampire saw where Xander was looking and grinned. He took off and landed on Xander’s shoulder, clutching the hair his roommate had let grow to his shoulders for this reason. Spike leaned in to his ear. “Come on, mate. Help a vamp out. I’ve got no chance of finding a fairy bird this time of day. Let me… watch you.”


“Yeah. Watch you wank. Don’t deny you have with me in the house and want to now. Come on…” Spike stroked the lobe of Xander’s ear.

Xander shivered. “But…”

“But what? I’m lonely, Xander. I’m full of Slayer’s blood and want to fuck something.”

“Not…not me…”

“Maybe not, it’ll have to be my fist, but please, Xan…” He lightly ran his hand over Xander’s neck.

“Okay. Yeah. But no jokes!”

“I promise.” Spike flew to the bed side table and seated himself on the tissue box.

Self consciously, Xander stripped. He avoided looking at Spike as the fairy vamp leaned back on one hand and fisted himself with the other. He moved a pillow and lay with his head at the foot of the bed to give Spike the best view.

Spike watched as Xander’s movements grew more self assured. His hands automatically moved to please himself and his thick cock slipped in and out of his fist. His left hand wandered, tweaking a nipple, cupping his balls, touching his lips.

Spike could stand it no longer, he had to have some of that heat.

Xander’s eyes flew open when tiny Spike landed on his chest. “Please, mate. I… I want your warmth. I’m so bloody lonely. There are no pixie girls, I’ve been lying. They call me an abomination and won’t have anything to do with me.”

Spike’s cock was still hard and jutting out from his toned stomach. Xander swallowed. The little guy had been through so much. why not hear him out? “What… what do you want to do?”

“Hold your cock against your belly. I… I think this will feel good.”

Xander brought his cock down until his thumb was trapped between cock and stomach. Spike turned his back on him and ran his hands over the pre-cum slicked head. The touch was light and cool. Then he pressed his little body against it. He thrust his hips and ran his arms over the sensitive tip. With a shock, Xander realized what Spike was doing. He was fucking Xander’s slit.

Xander moaned at the sudden wave of lust. In all his recent imaginings of Spike, he was full sized. He’d never thought of this. Spike heard the thunder-like moan and felt the rumble beneath his feet. With a grin, he thrust harder and ran his hands along the edge of the head. Xander’s hand started to move.

“Watch out, Spike. I’m gonna…”

Spike had been watching Xander’s balls draw up. He planted his feet and grabbed hold best he could. When Xander hot seed hit him, pumping around him in almost scalding waves, he let loose his own orgasm.

When it all subsided, Spike lay slimy from head to toe sprawled on Xander’s chest. The heart beat under him thundered as if he lay on a great drum.

Fearing getting stuck, Spike peeled himself up and staggered up to Xander’s shoulder. He half opened his eyes and grinned stupidly at Spike. “Your hair’s a mess.”

“It’s this new gel I’m trying. I don’t know how well it will work out.”

Xander let his eyes drift close and said sleepily, “You can’t tell from one try.”

“Is that an invite?”

“Sure. That was fun.”

“Was, wasn’t it?” He could tell Xander was on the edge of sleep.

“Um hum.”

“Night, Xander.”

“Night. Love you.”

Spike froze. What had the whelp said? Must have been the blood deprivation to his brain. Spike felt a touch woozy himself. It must be the crash after the Slayer blood buzz. Spike shook what he could from his wings and took off for the table. Half way there, the dizziness struck again. He spiraled to the floor and landed in a heap.

Xander woke up puzzled. The lights were on, he was cold and naked and crusty and ohmygod Spike had humped him! He sat up and cursed as the memory of Spike’s version of drinking from the fire hose came back to him. The strangest sex in is life and damned if it wasn’t the hottest.

He moaned and rubbed his eyes. Another moan answered him. A very loud, familiar moan. Xander sat up and turned around to find the source.

An equally naked normal-sized Spike lay sprawled on the floor. “Spike?”

“Quit your shouting. You’re going to bust my eardrums.” Xander was laughing. “Yeah, my hair’s a mess, you said that.” Spike started to push himself up and realized he was laying on his back. His eyes flew open. The bottom of the table looked very small this morning.

“Spike! You’re back! How did that happen?”

Spike sat up, nearly knocking his head on the table. “I’m back?” he reached a hand around and felt his smooth, wingless back. “My back! I’m back!”

Xander jumped from the bed and joined him in a victory dance around the room. Finally, they fell onto the couch.

“Well, how did this happen?” Xander asked. “Not that I’m complaining, but did you go out and find the solution last night?”

Spike shook his head. “No! I didn’t go anywhere. After we fucked,” Xander suddenly realized he was naked and grabbed up a pillow. “I went to clean up before I was pasted to you. I got dizzy in mid-air and… woke up proper vamp sized.”

“There has to be something else to it,” Xander said.

When sun claims moon and love is voiced, what once was will be again,” Spike quoted. “Bloody hell, you claimed me.”

“What? No. It was a one time thing.”

“You daft git. One way to claim someone is to mark them with your scent. You came on me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Xander said in a small voice. “I guess I did.”

“What’s the matter? Regrets?”

“Um. It was weird, Spike, you have to admit that.”

Spike shrugged. “What of it? Isn’t most sex weird when you break it down? Anyway, you claimed me.”

“So I’m the sun and you’re the moon?”

“Follows don’t it?”

“Yes, but I didn’t voice any love.”

Spike smiled at Xander. “Yes, you did. Just before you went to sleep.”

Xander’s eyes grew wide. “I said that out loud?”


Xander looked away and fiddled with the pillow. “Well… I…”

Spike shifted closer, took Xander’s chin in his hand, and turned him to face him. “I love you, too, Xander. No one has done as much for me as you have over the last year.” He waved toward the doll house. “You made a home for me, and provided right good company.”


“May I kiss you, Xander? I’ve very much been wanting to.”

Xander could only nod and allow himself to be swept up in all the imagined possibilities between them becoming true.

The End

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