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A Tale of Tragically Star-Crossed Lovers Separated by the Mortal Coil Itself

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Xander melted under the heavy penetration of the blond Vampyr's piercingly ice blue eyes, which pierced him heavily.

"Oh, Spike!" he cried. "I love you so much that it hurts on the inside! You are like the Peter Parker to my Mary Jane, although you do not have a secret superhero identity, although that could be comparable to your state of being a Vampyr, although that is not exactly a secret, and also our love is secret and forbidden, which their's was not!"

Spike stared at him smolderingly, burning with wordless passion, which was soon to become not-so-wordless. "Xander, my fragile and mortal flower, I fear sometimes that you do not truly love me! I am a Vampyr, a creature of darkness which can never share the sparkling sunlight with you."

"Spike, you foolish fool! Of course I am madly in romantic attraction with you and your well-sculpted pectoral muscles! I only worry because you Vampyrs are immortal. You will stay similar in appearance to as you do now, while I will grow wrinkly and parched and less in control of my bowel movements, and you will abandon me for a more appealing lover!"

Xander sighed with relief as he felt Spike's cool hands encircle his waist--as soon as he felt their frosty touch, he knew that he had Spike's eternal devotion.

"Xander, you babbling idiot. I will always cherish you and your surprisingly brawny and sinewy upper arms. But won't you desire a mortal lover such as yourself, who can take you to TrekFest without bursting into a pile of flaming ash?"

Xander soothed his distraught companion with a finger to the lips. "Do not worry, Spi--"

***
"What the fuck?"

Andrew shut off the camera quickly. "Oh, hi, Dawn. Um, what are you doing here?"

Dawn rolled her eyes and pulled the door closed. She turned back to face him, putting a hand on her hip. "I'm putting the broom back after sweeping up the broken shards of Mom's favorite vase. What are you doing sitting in the closet talking to your camera? More stories about Buffy?"

"Uh, not quite. See, this one isn't exactly real, yet, but--but it will be!"

"Uh-huh. And why is this taking place in the closet, exactly?"

"It's the passionate love between Xander Harris, the Heart of the Slayer Force, the Carpenter Everyman, and Spike, Souled Vampyr. And it's gotta be in the closet because people kept throwing me out of the bathroom!"

Dawn sat on the floor next to him after sticking the broom in a corner. "Okay, I hate to repeat myself, but...what the fuck?"

"They belong together! Don't you see how perfect it would be?"

Dawn tilted her head back, resting it against the door jamb and pondering Andrew for a moment. "Well, yeah. Despite your strange way of putting it, it's pretty obvious that they're soul mates."

Andrew leaned forward excitedly, grabbing her arm. "You believe me! Oh, that's fantastic! We can be partners-in-crime, like Thelma and Louise, enacting my beautiful plan to make them realize their romantic inclinations towards each other!"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "You have a plan? And since when are you Thelma or Louise, unless there's something you're not telling me?"

"Okay, maybe not Thelma and Louise, but...Theodore and Louise, then."

Dawn giggled. "Theodore?"

"It's a perfectly respectable name! In fact, it's my middle name!"

"Oh, of course. Suddenly all is explained. Your plan?"

"Uh...that's in the, um, brainstorming phases. Right now I'm just--hey, don't touch that!"

For a few minutes, the only thing that could be heard was Andrew's tinny voice coming from out of the camera.

Dawn stopped the tape, and gave him a witheringly patronizing look. "TrekFest? You really think Spike would want to take Xander to a Star Trek convention?"

"Who wouldn't?"

Dawn's expression turned more pained. "Okay, clearly if this is not going to fall flat on its face, you need my help. And let's get this straight right now: you are not Andrew the Cool Gay Shopping Buddy, you are not Action Man, you are not Suave Scientist Guy--you are an equal if excruciatingly annoying member of the team."

"Uh, excuse me, Missy, but who are you to presume to make judgments upon my sexuality so--so rudely?"

"If you're not gay, then why are you crouched in a closet speaking your own gay fantasy porn into a camcorder about the two hottest guys in the house?"

"Well...maybe a little bit gay. But it's not like I have a crush on either of them or anything."

"Sure, just like Willow's hair isn't red and Buffy's speeches aren't long."

"And I am so suave!"

"Are not."

"Are too--uh, am too, to be precise."

"Are not."

Andrew smiled suddenly. "Hey, this is what friends do! They tease each other! We're friends!"

Dawn punched him in the leg--provoking a muffled "Ow"--but she was smiling. "Let's just get this crazy show on the road before it Thelma and Louises itself into a canyon."