Mom, I'm Not Gay
by Angela

Summary:
Originally written by Angela.
Xander’s mom puts two and two together, and gets a queen.

Notes:
This was written by Angela and was recovered through the Wayback Machine. Aside from some formatting done to make it easier to read, this has not been edited.  This fic is considered complete.

I was not gay.

Before any of this. . . disaster that was my life came about, that was my motto.  I was not gay.  I wasn't.  Really.  I stood in the locker room with all the other guys in the gym class.  I never looked over to see what the other guys had to offer.  I would just shower and think of Buffy, or

Cordelia, or whoever I was in love with at the time, rinse off, and move on.

I was not gay.

Even when Larry told me he *thought* I was gay, and that he would help with anything he could on my quest to come out, it gave me the wiggins.  Because I was not gay.

However, Anya decided I was.

It wasn't her fault.  Not really.  Four days before *the* fight, she and I were in bed at my new apartment, doing what Anya and I did best - yes, that would be sex, thank you very much - and she did this. . . thing.  I can't really explain what it was she did exactly.  Some. . . grinding thing,

tightening of muscles, something along those lines.  It felt *really* good. At the very beginning.

And then it started to hurt.

Badly.

Bad enough for me to go to the doctor the next day.

Of course, I couldn't *tell* her it hurt because she was completely enraptured, having the time of her life.  I always did like the way Anya made me feel like I was the *best* lover in the world.  Granted, I don't think she had sex in the thousand some odd years that she was a demon.  I'd think *anyone* was good after that long.

So Dr. Livingston told me there was mild tissue bruising and asked how it happened.  He gave me a strange look when I told him it was just normal sex with my girlfriend.  Apparently, as I overheard the nurses chuckling when I left, they all thought I fucked a vacuum cleaner hose.  Incidentally, I wouldn't be seeing Dr. Livingston again any time soon.

However, his diagnosis was for me to not have sex for four to six days. Give my pal time to heal.  How the *hell* was I going to explain that to Anya?

The first night was fine.  I pleased her orally, and she was happy and content.  The *next* night, when I started to go down on her, she whined a little and said she wanted to have sex, and I told her that I just wanted to make her happy because she always did so much to make me happy. . . she relented, and fell asleep shortly after I made her cum.

The third night she pouted, crying that I didn't love her.

I assured her that wasn't the case, just that I was in a very giving mood.

Too bad she wasn't in a receiving one.  Nothing happened that night.

*The* fight happened on the fourth day.  My mother called the apartment and said there were a few things she found that she thought that I would want. She'd put them in the basement, and I could come and get them at any time.

I shouldn't have taken Anya with me.  She wasn't talking to me, arms crossed, sulking the entire way there.  However. . . if she hadn't of went, I wouldn't be as happy as I am now. . .

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So we go to the basement of hell, and I was gathering the few things my mom was nice enough to box up for me.  Anya was sulking in the corner, watching me through tear filled eyes.  Finally, with a loud sigh, she stood up, "I think we should break up."

I looked over at her, mildly shocked, "What?" I asked.

"Break up.  You know, where one of the parties in a couple realizes that it isn't working out for them and they proceed to stop seeing each other?"

"Yea, An, I know what breaking up means.  Why?" I asked.

"BECAUSE YOU ARE GAY!" she screamed hysterically.

I blinked in shock, opening and closing my mouth.  I frowned slightly, wondering *what* was going through my soon-to-be former girlfriend's mind, "What?  Anya, I'm not gay."  I wasn't.  I wasn't gay.

"You are!" she sobbed, much louder than I was comfortable with.  She knew to be quiet when we were in my parent's house, especially when there was no other source of sound.  Who knew what could be heard - which drunk parent could hear the arguing, the fucking, any of it.

"Anya!" I exclaimed, "What the hell makes you think that?"

"We haven't had sex in *three* days, Xander!  You only go down on me!  You are gay!  I knew it!  I knew it from the second that I laid eyes on you!" She wiped her tears away.  My heart would have broken at how upset she was, but I was in too much shock to think about it.  "I don't know why I even got involved with you!  You. . . you. . . you gay man!"  She stormed out of the basement, and I turned, just watching her walk out of my life.  I didn't know what else to say, what else to do.

I heard the door from the house open and a pair of feet shuffle down the

stairs.  "Alexander?"

Great.  My mom.  Just whom I wanted to see.

I cringed and turned.  "H-hi, mom."  She was wearing her normal 'around-the house-get drunk' attire:  a tropical muumuu, her bangs pushed out of her face with a headband.  My mother never was the most fashionable.  I supposed that I got that from her.  She had a pained look on her face and reeked of vodka.  I shuffled slightly, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Alexander," she said, stepping into the basement, "I know your father and I haven't been the best parents. . ."

And my mom gets the award for the understatement of the year, ladies and gentlemen.

". . .but I want you to know that I support you."

"Thanks, mom," I said, turning back to my boxes.  Suddenly, I remembered Anya's last words.  "Uh. . . you support me in what, mom?"

"I support you even though you are gay."

What?  WHAT?  "What?" I asked weakly, turning around.  "Mom. . . I'm not. . ."

"I heard your little girlfriend say you were, Alexander.  I just want you to know that I support you."  She shrugged a little, looking down, "Your dad might beat your ass, so I think it would be better if we keep it between us, but I'm here for you.  I saw Sally Jesse Raphael today.  She is a very informative person, in case you didn't know.  She said you should love your children, gay or straight, because they are still your children."

I stared at my mother in shock for a good five minutes before I spoke, watching as she fluttered around, going from flustered to irate.  I was amazed.  I hadn't felt love from my mother in more years than I could remember, but now, because of some little blonde bitch with red glasses and one hour to blab to the bored housewives of America, my mom was going to tell me she loved me?  Finally, I said, "Mom, I'm not gay."

"Sally Jesse Raphael said denial was the first sign," she said, nodding her head.

I just covered my face and prayed for the Hellmouth to open in my basement. Surely hell couldn't be that bad.

I went to Willy's.  I wanted to go out and slay my heart out, but that was Buffy's deal.  I would have probably gotten eaten, and I would have died, my mother thinking I was gay.  I couldn't understand why it bothered me so much, I never cared what my mother thought of me.   She was a bitter old woman.

I didn't really drink anything at the bar, just sat there, watching the ice dance around in my drink.  I wasn't gay.  I *knew* I wasn't gay.  If I were gay, another man would attract me, right?  I'd never been attracted to another man.

Ok, there was Angel, but that was a different story.  He was a big guy: tall, dark, and handsome.  That was like a woman noticing another woman was beautiful.  Cordelia used to tell me other women were beautiful all the time.  So there are no worries there.  I'm not gay because I thought Angel was attractive.

Whew!  I was worried there for a minute.

"Hey, mate," a sullen voice said, sitting beside me.

I glanced over, knowing whom it was by A) the blonde hair, B) the smell of leather and cigarettes, and C) the voice, of course.  "I'm not gay."  Great, Harris.  Just tell Spike all your troubles.  I was sure he'd get a great laugh out of them before running off to tell my friends I was gay.  I groaned, thumping my forehead on the bar.

"That's nice, Harris.  I hate Harm.  Tell me again why I went back to her?"

I looked up at him.  No laughing.  That was definitely unexpected.  "Uh… sex?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes unfocusing for a minute as he thought about it. "Right.  Shagging.  Always a good reason to take a stupid cow back. Speaking of shagging, how's the ex-demon?  Only one of the lot of ya that I can stand, what with her background in causing mayhem on the male population at large."

"We broke up," I said.  "She thinks I'm gay."

Yep, tell him the whole story, why don't you?

An eyebrow rose on his forehead.  He was cute when he did the surprised look.

Wait a minute - WHAT?

Where the hell did *that* come from?

Spike is *not* cute!  Not with those piercing blue eyes and that pale skin… those full lips. . .

Oh my god.

I thumped my head on the bar again.  "She thinks I'm gay, cause I didn't have sex with her for three days.  Three days, and she thinks I'm gay.  I don't have the stamina of. . . of. . ."

"A vampire," he smirked, shifting on his barstool so he was close enough to rub against my side.  "We could go forever if we wanted to."

Spike was touching me.  Great.  Spike was touching me and I was getting *aroused*!  Damn Anya and her thinking I was gay!

I jumped off the stool.  "Happy for ya, Spike.  I gotta go."  As I ran out of Willy's, I could hear him chuckling.  Bastard was making fun of me.

Jerk.

I went to the one place I knew I could go - to the one person that would understand me.  The one person that always did.

"Xander!"

I loved the way Willow always lit up when I saw her.  We weren't that close last year, after our whole senior year fiasco, but we had the *best* summer - lots of great Willow and Xander time without our girlfriends.

"I was just thinking about you!" she exclaimed, ushering me into the room she now shared with Tara.

"Really?" I asked, glancing around, wondering where her little witchy girlfriend was.  I closed my eyes for a second, imagining Willow and Tara on the very bed in front of me, completely naked, doing completely naked things.

Oh, yea.

I'm not gay at all.

The thought still aroused me.

I laughed, turning to her, "Thinking of the things me and you and Tara could do?"  I waggled an eyebrow suggestively.

She blushed a furious red, like she did every time I teased her about the three of us getting some action going.  She hit me playfully and I laughed. She led me to the bed - the bed her and Tara did naked things on - and we sat down.  "Shut up, Xander.  Your mom called me."

"*What?*" I asked with a strangled breath, "Whatever she said, Wills, I swear it's not true."

She frowned slightly, "It was a bit garbled - she was drunk, imagine that - but she mentioned something about Sally Jesse Raphael, you, a closet, and finding that - and I'm quoting here - 'deliciously handsome foreign blonde William something or the other that was hanging out with my Alexander for a while'.  She wanted to know where to find Spike and I have to ask myself why?"

I groaned, lying back on the bed, "Wills. . .mom thinks I'm gay.  It all started with this strange *move* Anya did the other night in bed."

By the time I was finished with my horror story, Willow was staring at me with wide green eyes.  I could see the mirth dancing in them; I could tell she was trying not to laugh at me.  Hell, I would have laughed, had it not been me dealing with it.  "Wills. . ." I said dangerously.

She giggled slightly, then her face fell into that easy grin - the one that only I see.  Tara might see it occasionally, but it was a Xander-specific smile.  It was one of childhood friendships, secrets we would never tell another soul, the comfortableness one has with the person you've known your whole life, "Xander, have you ever thought that maybe. . . you are?"

I sat up quickly, hurt and betrayed that Willow would *dare* suggest that perhaps I was.  "W- Wills. . . how could you?  How could you think. . ." I turned to her, tears filling my eyes, "Willow, I'm *not* gay.  You should *know* this!  I've been attracted to every single female that ever went to Sunnydale High School!"

Willow rolled her eyes, "I remember.  I was there," she pushed on my chest, making me lay back down on the bed.  She lay on her side beside me, propping her head up with her hand.  "Ok," she said, looking down at me.  I looked up at her, "Have you ever thought that maybe. . . just maybe, you are. . . bisexual?  It's obvious you like women.  Unless you are overcompensating, but that's a different story."

"Over. . . huh?" I asked, frowning.  Overcompensating?  What the hell would I be overcompensating for?

"Have you ever wondered *why* you want just about every girl that walks by? You are so *upset* by the thought that you may be gay that you are going overboard on the other end of the scale, to prove to the world – and yourself - that you like women."

Where does Willow get all her knowledge?  If I believed that I was gay, I would have thought that was a pretty good reason as to why I fell in love with every girl I met.

But of course, since I wasn't gay, that was just some psycho-babble she learned in Dr. Walsh's class last semester.

"No, that's just a bunch of psychologist's mumbo jumbo," I nodded.

"Ok.  No overcompensation.  Do you think you are bi?"

I laughed, brushing her off.  "Bi people don't really exist, Wills.  You either like men, or you like women.  Ain't no switchin' teams here," I said, looking up at her.

She raised an eyebrow.  "I loved Oz as much as I love Tara."

Ouch.

"Ok, so *you* might be bisexual, but that doesn't mean I am," I turned away from her, on my side.  I wasn't gay.  I wasn't bisexual.  I was just a normal straight guy, stuck in an insane situation, all because of Anya and her funky moves.

I was sure the situation would blow over and I would find another woman and things would be fine.  Things were always fine.

"Xander, you and I are a lot more alike than you might think," she murmured.

"Nope.  Not happening."

She sighed behind me, "Fine."  We laid there quietly, just listening to each other breathing, ignoring the silence, when she spoke again, "Spike is hot, don't you think?"

"Of course not.  I'm not gay," We were both quiet, and I knew that she knew that I had noticed him, once I realized just how gay I *wasn't* and she knew that I was lying.  "Promise you won't tell anyone?" I murmured.

"I'm your best friend, Xander.  Nothing you say will leave this room.  Not even Tara will find out."

I rolled back over so I was on my back, staring at her ceiling.  She was on her back beside me.  She took my hand, squeezing it gently, letting me know that she was there for me, that she would always be there for me.

If there was one thing in the world that I'd finally gotten through my thick skull to appreciate, it was Willow Rosenberg.

"He has these. . . eyes," I said softly, closing my own.  I pictured his face in my mind, ignoring the smile that graced my lips, "They are piercing, like they could cut you down with one look.  And yet, they can be filled with. . . well, not that I've actually *seen* him looking like he was in

love, but I know they can be."

"He has those cheekbones," she murmured.

"Don't even get me started on the angular planes of his face," I said, shaking my head.

I felt her watching me.  I turned my head and opened my eyes.  She had a funny look on her face.  "What?" I asked with a frown.

"'Angular planes of his face'?  Xand, that's not a very. . . jock macho man thing to say."

"I'm not gay," I growled.

"Right, right, not gay," she nodded, as if she knew a secret that I didn't.  She smiled again; the same smile filled with comfort.

I blinked in shock, sitting up slowly.  I turned my body so I could look down at her.  "You. . . you think I'm gay," I whispered.

My heart broke.  My best friend thought I was gay.  How could she think I was gay?

"I always have, Xander.  At least, if not gay, but bisexual.  It explains why you always fall for girls you have no chance with, or you subconsciously know that the relationship won't work out.  Buffy, Cordelia. . . even Anya. *And* you knew that if we would have gotten together, we would have stayed together.  We know each other too well - we would probably make a great couple.  And that scared you.  Because you want men," she said knowingly.

"No," I murmured, shaking my head, "Don't. . . can't. . ."  I crossed my arms and looked away from her.

She sat up behind me and put her chin on my shoulder.  She wrapped her arms around my waist.  "Maybe you should find a guy, go out on a date with him. Spike, maybe?" I felt her shrug, "Your mom seems to think you two would be a great couple," she snickered slightly.

"Hell no!  He wouldn't go out with me!  He's a demon!  Evil, and soulless, and besides, he's dating Harmony!  Why would he want me instead of Harm?" I asked turning around to look at her.

An eyebrow rose on her face.  She had that look, that 'I told you so' look on her face.  I thought back over my response, my eyes widening, "Oh, and because I'm not gay!"

"Say it long enough and you might start believing it," Willow said softly.

A couple of days passed, and things got worse, continuing to spiral out of control - but I should be used to that now.  It's the life of the Zeppo.  My mom kept calling my apartment, leaving messages on the answering machine, spouting about how she was buying books about the situation.  It seems that her favorite was The Dummies' Guide to Parenting a Gay Child.  It was very informative, she told me, giving her 800 numbers to call for support.

There's a network out there of mothers who call each other when they come across the difficult times dealing with their homosexual children.  So these women, they call each other and cry to each other about how their son brought home some scruffy looking guy with no table manners, or their daughter brought home some butch chick that might as well *be* a guy.  My mother, apparently, she has *friends* on these lines now.  My mother has friends all over the country, friends that she calls when she's drunk and whiny, crying that her ‘baby boy can't find a decent man.’

She's even asked me on the machine if I ever caught up to that ‘blonde with the nice accent.’  I could still hear her voice in my head.  It haunted me when I closed my eyes, "Alexander!  Please tell me that you've caught up with that nice English man.  I know he's gay, I mean, he *dyes* his hair! And *blonde* no less!  Please call me when you get this, let me know if you are protecting yourself.  The Dummies' Guide says to always make sure your children have condoms because gay sex is very dangerous, and I wouldn't want you to be ill, Alexander.  AIDS is very dangerous in the gay community. Does Sunnydale *have* a gay community?  What do you young men do at the meetings?  Do you think William will be there?  Perhaps you should find out when the next meeting is.  I'll find out for you if you want me to… I'm sure you are still in denial…"

The machine cut her off.

She called back.

"I'll be glad to find out for you if you want me too. . . I'm sure they are listed in the phone book.  Hmm. . . I guess you'd look under 'gay' in the yellow pages?  Or do you think it would be under 'homosexual'?"

Hearing my mother say the word 'homosexual' gave me a major case of the wiggins.

"Is that what you prefer me to call you?  Or do you prefer 'gay'?  The book is very clear about not using derogatory terms when describing your children… it's really a great book.  They have a chapter or two that is written for the actual child… please call me, Alexander, and let's set up a time to have coffee… or cappuccino if that's what you… what they… what gay people drink.  I may be wrong, I just remember seeing a movie on the television late one night with a bunch of gay men drinking cappuccino… anyway, let's get together, talk, bond, you know… spend time together? Please?  I love you, Alexander, don't ever forget it."

After Willow listened to the messages in mute horror, I deleted them.

We were an odd bunch, Willow, Tara, and I.  The girls were trying to be as supportive as they could with the situation.  I couldn't talk to Buffy about it, Willow said she got the feeling that our dear Slayer wanted to bolt from the room when she first told her about Tara.  I couldn't talk to Giles, oh god, I couldn't go to him.  I could just imagine *his* reaction.

He'd take his glasses off, flounder around a bit, put his glasses back on, then take them off, realizing he was so in shock he didn't clean them.  He'd stutter, then put his glasses back on, and finally just say that he needed a glass of brandy and proceed to drink himself to oblivion.

I loved G-Man - *NOT* *THAT* *WAY*!  I was *not* gay! - but I just didn't want to be the one to give him the heart attack that would send him to his grave.

So anyway, Willow decided she wanted to cheer me up.  She proclaimed it "Xander's out with two beautiful women because he is *so* not gay" night.  I knew she thought I was, but I really appreciated her for trying.  It made me feel good, that she would go against what she thought just to make me happy.

So with Willow on one arm and Tara on the other, we went to the Bronze.  We danced… well, the girls danced, I did whatever it was that Willow claimed I thought dancing was - Tara *couldn't* stop laughing.  I'd glare at her, and she'd laugh more.

I was really beginning to like Tara.  She made Willow happy.

I didn't realize it at the time, but later, I started to figure it all out. Willow wasn't with Tara because she was 'gay', she was with Tara because the blonde made her happy.  Willow lit up when Tara smiled shyly at her – it really was cute the way they were around each other.  Even though I *knew* they'd been together - yep, still wasn't gay, the thought got me rather interested in being there watching and/or participating - they still acted like shy little girls coming in contact with their crush.

So we were at the Bronze, having danced (or flailed around like a fish out of water, as Tara finally decided my unique dance style was) our hearts out. We were in the darkened corner, on a couch.  They were sitting next to each other, Tara snuggled up to Willow.  I was lying on the couch, my head in Willow's lap.  She was playing with my hair, like she used to when we were kids.  It always calmed me.  It was nice - I felt like they were accepting me into their tight bond, because I *knew* that Buffy would never be in that same situation with the two of them.

I was almost asleep when I heard a slightly irritated, *very* familiar voice, "Harris, we need to talk.  Now!"

I opened my eyes and looked up, and up, finally seeing Spike's blazing blue eyes.  Great.  The vamp was angry about something.  I glanced at Willow, her eyebrow going up.  I stood up and stretched, following him an even *darker* corner of the Bronze.  I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, still in that almost asleep mode he'd tried to pull me out of.

"What is it, Spike?" I asked, sighing softly.  I wanted to be back in the lap of Willow, basking in her and Tara's warmth.

Besides, I knew my *mother* wanted me to date the demon, and it wigged me out a bit to be around him.

"So I'm at the bloody grocery store," he growled, lighting a cigarette and inhaling a *lot* of nicotine, "I hear an inhuman shriek and practically drop the fangs and yellow the bloody eyes."

"Wait. . ." I frowned, throwing my hand up, "You were at the *grocery* store?"

He growled at the interruption, "I needed fags and Wheat-A-Bix, moron!  Now let me finish my *bloody* story before I rip your spine out!"

I rolled my eyes, nodding that he had my attention.

"So I spin around, ready to kill whatever demon it was that was stalking me in the effin' store.  It wasn't a demon, Harris.  It was -"

"Oh. My. God," I said, before he could finish.  I cringed.  She didn't. Please, god, please say she didn't, "It wasn't my mother, was it?" I flinched slightly, praying that it wasn't.

"In all her frumpy nightgown bleedin' glory.  She *attacks* me. . .*ME*, the Big Bad!  She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me, telling me that she's *so* glad she found me because she needed my help," He took another drag off the cigarette, and I couldn't help but watch as he wrapped his lips around the butt of his smoke.  It was almost erotic, *definitely* oral.  I actually found myself wondering what it would be like if those same lips were wrapped around the head of my cock.

I was *so* not gay!

"Your mum - who is *way* beyond hammered now, I swear, Harris, she smelled like a soddin' liquor store - informs me that you are a Ponce, and that I really should consider going out on a date with you.  A *date*!  Harris, your *mum* is trying to set *me* up on a date with *you*!"

"*I* *am* *not* *gay*!" I growled, wanting to rip him apart.  He was making me *so* angry!  What the hell would be *wrong* about wanting to go out on a date with me?  I wasn't that bad of a guy!  I mean, sure, I had my moments that made my friends look at me a little strange, but everyone did!  And here he was acting like it was the end of the world for the two of us to go out on a stupid date!  There was absolutely not *one* good reason why Spike and I shouldn't have gone out on a date!

Well, other than the fact that I wasn't gay, of course.

"So your mum starts arsing about, babbling about how she read in her book that she should love her gay child, and she just wanted you to be happy, and that she knew that I would make you happy, because apparently, your mum thinks that I, like you, am a Poof.  Something about bleaching my soddin' hair and the way I always stayed the bloody night in the basement.  She also informed me that she would be very glad to call me a son-in-law because I was a handsome bloke.  She winked at me.  Harris, your mum *winked* at me."

I covered my face with my hands, mortified beyond belief.  I thought that when she was telling me she thought I was gay - I thought that was bad.  But this… it was… I was just… there was no way I could ever look at Spike again, "I am so sorry," I murmured softly, "She's on this kick… she got too drunk, watched some talk show saying to love your gay children, then overheard me and Anya fighting."

"Right," Spike said, "when the chit proclaimed you were a Ponce."

"Pretty much," I said, looking up at him.  Our eyes met, and I could have almost sworn that I saw a flash of lust in his… I *knew* that my eye lustage flared.  We both looked away.  I licked my lips, trying to get the uncomfortable dryness to go away, "Yea, and she won't leave me alone about it," I murmured, "I tried to tell her, but she's too drunk to pay attention."

"Well," Spike growled.  He paused, and I glanced at him.  He was standing there, glaring at me, looking as if he were trying to figure out what to say.  He opened his mouth, then closed it and frowned slightly, then opened it again, "Don't let it happen again, moron."

With that, he turned, his duster blowing around him.  I always liked the way he looked with the duster blowing around, it added to his look of danger. Very sexy.

Well, it would have been, if I were gay. . .

Anyway, he turned, billowing duster and all, and walked away, growling at the people in the crowd if they got too close to him.

I made my way back to Willow and Tara slowly, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all.  I couldn't believe that the one time my mother had to pay attention to me, it had to be right then, at that particular moment.

And what was *up* with that look of lust in Spike's eyes?

If Willow was horrified by the messages, she was going to join me in the ranks of plain frightened out of my skull over *this* incident.  My drunk mother attacking *William the Bloody* in a *grocery* store, informing him that he should go out on a date with her only son and that he would be the perfect son-in-law.  And she *winked* at him.

My mother *winked* at William the Bloody.

Could things have gotten any worse?

The girls ended up crashing at my apartment.  It was closer than the dorms were, and by the time we left the "Xander's Not Gay" night - of course, leaving me more confused than *before* we went out… at least before we went out I *knew* I wasn't gay, and after we left, I could honestly say I wasn't completely sure.  Damn Spike!  Anyway, after we left the Bronze, we were all too tired to really make the trek across Sunnydale to campus and be safe.  So I told the ladies they could have my bed - also half-heartedly informing them that they could do whatever naked things they wanted to do on my bed, so I could bask in the knowledge that two women had sex there – and I would sleep on the couch.

"You aren't going to ask to join us?" Willow teased playfully, nudging me in the side.

I glanced down at her dancing green eyes and smiled, "Too tired tonight, babe.  I would probably pass out and you two would do all these delicious things to my body, and I'd miss out on all of it."

Tara nudged me from the other side, "But we'd enjoy it, Xander," she giggled.

I turned to her, shocked.  I think I must have had the biggest smile on my face I'd ever had.  Willow always told me that when it was just she and Tara, she was much less stuttery and that she really was funny and cute and precious and such a wonderful person and she always wanted me to see the Tara she knew.  And I knew at that moment that Tara was comfortable enough with me at this point to show me who she really was, and it gave me warm happy feelings.  I liked Tara so much more than I ever liked Oz, and she was so good for Willow.

"Well," I smirked, "if you two ladies get the hankerin' for some Xander-Love, just come wake me up and I'll willingly follow you anywhere so you can have your way with my devastatingly handsome naked body.  I don't mind," I wrapped my arms around their shoulders and they both leaned in my embrace.  I knew at that moment, no matter what happened, whether I was straight, gay, or bisexual, I would always have the two of them supporting me.

That thought gave me more warm fuzzy feelings.  Even though I wasn't gay, it made me happy.

So we got to the apartment and we were all getting ready for bed.  Tara leaned up and kissed me on the cheek and said she had a real good time that night.  Then she said, "Xander, whatever you decide, I'll always love you anyway, because you are too adorable *not* to love.  As long as you are happy, then I'm happy.  Besides, when you are happy, Wills is happy and when she's happy, I get Willow-love, and Willow-love is so good," she grinned.

I chuckled and kissed her forehead, "I bet it is," I replied.  I hugged her, tightly, and told her goodnight.  She went to Willow, knowing that my best friend wanted to talk to me for a minute.

"I love you, I'll be waiting," she smiled.  Then she kissed her.

It was the first time I'd actually sat back and watched the two kiss without my hormones jumping up and screaming, 'WOMEN KISSING!  JOIN THEM!'  Don't get me wrong, in the back of my head, I *still* wanted to be in the middle of it, but for some reason, at that moment, I was just content to watch them.

They were beautiful together.  Not in a 'man about to get some from two women' way but in an 'artistically pleasing two beautiful women expressing their love' kinda way.  I frowned slightly, making a note to myself not to mention that to Willow, because it would *definitely* reinforce the fact in her mind that I was gay.

I could hear the soft moan from Tara, indicating that whatever it was Willow's tongue was doing in her mouth was a good thing, and it made me think back on all the kisses I'd ever had.  Willow's was the only one that made me total jelly like Tara was.  Not that Anya didn't make me moan, but by then, we were having sex.  Other than Wills, I'd never had someone just make me melt from a kiss.

I blinked suddenly, pulling myself away from watching them.  It was as if I'd just had one of those moments of insight.  Willow said the reason I pushed her away was because she knew that if we'd ended up together, we'd have been a great couple.  Everyone else I *knew* wouldn't work out, whether it be consciously (Buffy) or subconsciously (Anya, Cordelia, everyone else).  Now, why would I push a good thing away?

That would be stupid of me to do.

Unless…

What if I *were* gay?  Or even bisexual?  Had to be bi… I *did* enjoy sex with Anya.

I closed my eyes and pictured Spike in my mind.  I imagined what it would be like for him to take me in his arms and cover my face with kisses, then for him to attack my lips, kissing me deep and passionately.

I think I moaned.

"Xander?"

My eyes flew open and I stared at Willow's big green eyes.  She was standing in front of me, her eyebrows pushed together in slight confusion.  "Not gay!" I cried, inhaling deeply, "Wills, I'm not, I'm really not gay at all!  I didn't moan!  I swear, I didn't!"

"Um. . .ok," she said, sitting on the couch.  I sat down next to her, dropping my head in my hands, "Just because you were standing there watching me and Tara kiss and was really enjoying the idea *a lot*, that doesn't mean you are gay, Xander," she patted my back.

Wills thought I was thinking about them.  She thought that the beginning of my erection was because of them.  I turned back to her and sighed, "Thanks for the thought, but it wasn't the two of you I was picturing."

Her eyes widened and she giggled, leaning forward, "Spike?"

I nodded, looking down.  "I was trying to remember all the women I'd ever kissed that made me moan - just from a kiss.  You were the only one.  Then I imagined Spike."

"Damn, Xander, he's really gotten under your skin, hasn't he?"

I sighed.  "Yea, he has,” I leaned back against the couch.  She pulled her legs under her and turned towards me, reaching up to play with my bangs, "What am I going to do?  First off, I'm attracted to Spike - an evil demon. That is wrong on so many levels."

"Because you aren't gay."

"Yea, and because he's *Spike*.  He's tried to kill us how many times?  And if he didn't have the chip, you know he'd kill us.  He could never ever see me as anything other than the moron.  And besides.  He doesn't like men," I frowned.

"Remember what we read in Giles' journal when we snuck it out of his office? The really old one with talk of Angelus and William the Bloody?" she asked softly.

"Yea, but just because *they* had a relationship with each other doesn't mean a damn thing!  First off, Angelus is his *Sire*.  And if *I* were a Childe to Angelus, I'd want him.  I mean…" I sighed, "Never mind, you know the drill."

"If you were gay, yes, I know, Xander."

"What if I am really, Wills?  What if I'm gay?  I mean… I… and… I just can't… there's just some things… and… gay?  Me?  The Xand-Man?"

"It's not the end of the world if you are, Xander," she said softly, "Life will go on, I promise."

"I just wish…" I paused, trying to figure out how to word the sentence without outing myself - because I wasn't gay - "I just wish that if I *were* gay, I could accept it as easy as you did."

Willow reached out and hugged me.  I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her neck.  Holding Willow was always like the calm in the middle of a storm.  No matter what was going on in my life, no matter how bad things were, when she held me, everything focused on that moment, the feeling of her small arms around my neck.  I felt safe, and I felt love in Willow's embrace.  No one had ever made me feel that way.  Not Cordelia, not Anya, not Buffy - no one.  Hell, half the time, they *were* the storm, "It's all going to be ok, Xander," she murmured in my ear, "I promise."

I pulled away, smiling at my dearest, oldest friend in the whole world, "Thanks, Wills."

She leaned up and kissed me, then grinned, "Sure you don't mind if me and Tara…" She cleared her throat, "Of course you don't.  You'd be thrilled if two women were naked on your bed."

I chuckled, "Do whatever you want, babe.  I'll bask in the thoughts in the morning when I'm more awake.  But remember - if the two of you want a guy, I'm right here."

She giggled, "Night, Xander."

"Night, Wills," I watched as she got up and moved to the bedroom, shutting the door.  I lay back on the couch with a sigh.  I knew that as tired as I was, it wouldn't take long for me to fall asleep.

I woke up with a start sometime in the middle of the night.  I was lying on the couch, panting from… from… I glanced down and realized what it was I was panting from.  I'd had a wet dream!  I hadn't had those in a *long* time - especially after Anya and I started having sex.

It started out being Willow and Tara.  They were in my bed, doing all kinds of naked girl things, and Willow called out into the living room and told me that they wanted me to join them.  So of course, being the non-gay guy that I was, I joined them.  It was *really* good.  I was having a good time anyway.

I remembered hearing the front door open, then close, and Tara and Willow jumped up, saying that they had things to do, witchy things.  They waved their hands and disappeared, just like that.  I rolled over on the bed, to my back, groaning because I was still hard.  "Damn it!" I exclaimed.

And then *he* was stepping into my room.  He was completely naked, the moonlight playing on his body, showing the defining muscles under tight pale skin.  I licked my lips, my gaze running down his body.  His erection was jutting out proudly from his body.  "You are mine, Harris. Don't ever think otherwise."

And then he took me to places I'd never been to before.

In my mind's eye, I could see the way he chewed his bottom lip as he pounded into me - he *insisted* on taking me like a woman, so he could watch my face.  At first, I thought it would be humiliating, but I was so enraptured with watching *his* face, it didn't bother me at all.  He was absolutely beautiful.  I didn't think I could properly put his beauty into words.

He opened his eyes, and I watched as they turned golden, as his demon's face came forth.  He leaned down over my body, murmured that I was his against my neck, then bit me.

It was at that point that I exploded and woke up.

And I was lying on the couch, panting, replaying the dream over and over in my head, "Oh, my god," I murmured, getting up.  I *had* to talk to Willow and Tara.  I had a dream - about a guy - and I *enjoyed* it!

I burst into the bedroom, assuming they'd be asleep, "Guys!" I cried.

Tara shrieked and yanked the covers up to her neck.  I was standing there in the middle of the bedroom, frowning.  I looked around, "Where's Wills?"

My best friend's red head popped out from underneath the covers.  "Xander!" she hissed, "We are busy!  What do you want?"

I should have *known* that something was wrong with me when it didn't even phase me that my best friend was underneath the covers pleasing her girlfriend.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my back to them so they could dress. "Guys, I am *so* sorry to bother you cause I know you are busy, but I'm wiggin' here."

There was rustling behind me, then they crawled down the bed to sit beside me, "What is it?" Tara asked softly, still blushing.

"I dreamed about him.  I mean, *dreamed* about him," I glanced down, noticing the wet spot on my boxers.  I groaned, "Hang on, be right back," I rushed into the bathroom and pulled my boxers off, changing into some sweatpants.

I walked back out and threw myself on the bed, next to them.  Willow was sitting against the headboard and Tara was curled in her arms.  Willow was running her fingertips along her girlfriend's arm.  "What's wrong?" Willow asked.

"Well," I said, staring at my ceiling, "I was laying on the couch, and the two of you decided you wanted a little of the Xand-Man.  So I went to the bedroom.  The three of us started…" I glanced at them, seeing both of them start to blush heavily, "Anyway, then the front door opened and closed, and you both jumped up and said that you had to do witchy stuff, and you waved your hands and disappeared.  It was a really cool spell; you should learn how to do it."

Tara grinned at me.  Willow chuckled, and said, "That would be real handy during patrol.  Almost get attacked by a vamp, disappear."

"So what happened after we left?" Tara asked.

"Spike came in.  He was naked.  He was beautiful, you guys.  I mean, the shadows played over his body and he was lean and fit and pale and my god, he was just… he was nummy," I turned to them, "But I'm not gay!"

"We know, Xander," Willow nodded, that same secret smile on her face, "So then what?  Did you two…?"

"It was incredible.  Every moment.  I mean… it was… and I…" I shook my head, "It was incredible.  He bit me, at the end, right before we were both about to have our orgasms.  He bit me and I woke up.  Guys, it got me off!  I had a wet dream about a *man*!"  I turned over, burying my face in the pillow.

"It's going to be ok, Xander," Willow murmured softly.  "I promise."

The next thing I knew, the alarm was going off.  I reached over and hit the snooze button, wanting to go back to sleep.  It was late - almost noon.  I didn't have to go to work that day, and it was Saturday, so the girls didn't have school.  I turned over, freezing when I felt a body in my bed.

I slowly opened my eyes to see Willow grinning at me, "Morning, sleepy head."

"Wills," I said, rubbing my eyes, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," she said, sitting up, "you fell back asleep and we didn't have the heart to kick you out of your bed again, so me and Tara snuggled to each other and slept on the other side."

I blinked.  "You mean you two slept in my bed *with* me, and I missed it?"

She giggled slightly, "You walked in on me…"  She blushed heavily, "between her legs and you didn't even realize it, Xander."

My mouth dropped open, "You mean there was sex and I totally missed it?" I shook my head, sitting up, "Damn that stupid Spike!  He's throwing me all off kilter!  There were two hot naked girls in my bed doing stuff and I *missed* it!  All because of that stupid dream!" I sighed, "And I'm *not* gay, so I should have been totally repulsed by the thought of him, kissing me and holding me and the way his body felt against mine… how *right* it felt…" I sniffed, feeling the tears fill my eyes.  Damn, now I was going to cry like a baby, "I'm not gay, Wills.  Please, you gotta make this nightmare stop.  It's getting worse, and it's driving me crazy."

Willow leaned over, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.  She leaned her head against mine, "Xander, this is going to eat at you until you at least give it a chance."

"Maybe you should go out on a date with a guy and see what it's like."

We both looked up.  Tara was standing at the door with a tray in her hands, loaded down with a *lot* of breakfast food.  She shrugged slightly, "I made breakfast for us," she said quietly, glancing down with a blush.

I grinned, seeing all the food.  I pushed my feelings aside for the time being and decided that food was more important, "A woman after my own heart.  Wills, hang on tightly to this one or I might have to snatch her away from you," I teased.

Both of them giggled.

As we all piled on my bed and ate, we decided to have a 'fun' day, not thinking about me and my issues with not being gay.  We would go to the mall, do some shopping, find something for Giles for his birthday, just hanging out as friends did.  "Maybe we should call Buffy and Riley, see if they want to come with us," Willow suggested.

"That sounds cool," I grinned, leaning over to grab the phone.  I called the Buffster's house and she said her and Riley would love to join us at the mall.  She'd been going there anyway to find something to get for him, so it worked out really well.

We had a great day at the mall, just five friends hanging out.  I never once had to defend my heterosexuality.  Buffy and Riley still had no clue I was even having problems, so it was never brought up.  We all chipped in and bought Giles a really nice leather bound book so he could record his thoughts and such.  Willow suggested I buy one for myself; perhaps I could help myself by writing all my thoughts down in them.  I decided she was right, that it might do me well to do that.

At the end of our little outing, we all split up, going to our respective homes.  I walked my girls home and gave them both a big hug, telling them thank you for everything they'd done for me.  "Call us if you need us, Xander," Tara said.

Willow put on her resolve face, "We are here for you, Xand."

"Thanks," I gave them another patented Xander grin, then went home.

The sun had set by the time I got back to the apartment.  I was downstairs in the lobby, at the mailboxes, getting my mail.  I frowned, wondering why there were a couple of bright pink flyers in my box.  I pulled the pink paper out and gasped.

~Calling all gay men of Sunnydale!~  it read ~This month's meeting of the Gay Alliance has been rescheduled!  It will be on the 23rd at the Civic Center at 7:00pm!  Please, join us on this day!  We will discuss a lot of exciting things, and plan for the shopping excursion next month in LA!~

"What the…" I pulled out another envelope and opened it, seeing it was from the Gay Alliance of Sunnydale.  Enclosed were a letter and a few leaflets about being gay, and the importance of getting tested for AIDS regularly.  Reading quickly over the letter, I groaned.  My *mother* had gotten in touch with the GAoS and gave them my name and address.  The letter also stated that they would be thrilled to have me join their next meeting, where they would discuss different hardships "we as Gay Americans" had to endure.

I started banging my head against the metal mailboxes.  I didn't care that I was causing myself a headache.  Was this nightmare *ever* going to end?  I was beginning to think that maybe if I just proclaimed to the world that I was gay, it would all go away.

"Uh… Alexander Harris?"

I spun around quickly, clutching my mail to my chest.  I frowned slightly at the guy standing about five feet away from me.  He was handsome - tall, dark hair, dark eyes… the kind you could get lost in.  Not Spike's, mind you, but beautiful eyes, nonetheless.

Well, they would have been if…

God, never mind.

"Yea?" I asked softly, "I'm… Xander."

"Xander," he said, rolling the name around on his tongue, "I like it."

I blinked in mild shock.  He *liked* it?  Why did he like my name?  And why was he telling me?  He looked like he could be a football player, or a jock of some sort - clean cut and extremely handsome.  Why would he be telling another guy that he liked his name?

"Can I help you?" I asked, having the disadvantage of not having a clue who the hell he was.

He blushed slightly, looking down, "I'm sorry," He stepped forward, holding his hand out, "I'm Mike.  Mike Tucker."

I shook his hand.  He had big hands, and a firm grip.  Too bad he wasn't gay.

Not that I was, or anything, or that I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss those full lips of his.  Because I didn't.  I didn't want to know what he looked like without his clothes on.  Not at all.

"I didn't mean to intrude, but…" He glanced around, satisfied that the lobby was empty, "Your mom and my mom are friends…"

I pulled my hand away and stepped back against the mailboxes.  I slammed my head against them.  "I am *so* sorry, Mike, that my mother is probably hounding your mother about this.  I don't know why she's got it in her head that I'm gay, because I'm not."

Great.  She'd gone from hounding Spike to hounding a perfectly good stranger who was probably here to beat the shit out of me for thinking I was a pansy.

"You… aren't?" he asked, frowning slightly.

He actually almost looked crushed.

"You… are?" I asked, an eyebrow rising.

"Your mother didn't call you today?  Seems like our moms got on this roll at the meeting for 'Parents Supporting the Gay Alliance' - it's a program the Alliance has for the parents of us gay folk - anyway, they got on a roll last night about how neither of their sons could find a decent man, and finally decided to set us up.  She was supposed to call you today and tell you I was coming over."

I blushed and looked down, "I'm sorry, Mike, I haven't been home today.  I must have missed the call."

"Oh," he said, glancing away, "If you aren't gay, why is your mom in the group?"

I opened my mouth to launch into the story, then stopped.  He was a handsome guy, and Tara's words from that morning kept echoing through my mind, 'Maybe you should go out with a guy to see what it's like.'

"I'm… undecided at this moment," I said, finally being honest with someone - including myself.  "I'm just… not sure.  I mean, I like women - a lot - but lately, I've noticed a guy… or two, and I'm just not sure.  My best friend seems to think I am, but…"

"Ahh," Mike said knowingly, "Been there, experienced it when I was 16.  If… if you decide you are, this is one of the hardest parts of getting to that point.  Denial - strong denial - will make you believe anything."

I was starting to learn that.

"So anyway, I'll leave you alone… I really didn't mean to bother you or anything…"

"Wait!" I said, stepping forward, "My friend Tara said that I should go out with someone, see what it's like.  I don't… I mean, I don't really feel comfortable going out on a *date*, per se, but maybe we could just… I don't know, go have dinner?  You can help me, maybe.  You know, since I really don't know any… um…"

"Gay men?" he asked, smiling slightly.

"Yea.  Would that be ok?"

I couldn't believe I was actually hoping he'd say yes.

His smile lit up the lobby, "I'd like that.  Even as friends, I think that would be cool," he smiled.

My god, he was handsome.  He reminded me a bit of Angel, tall and dark and mysterious.

"Cool," I said.  I glanced down, "I should change though…"  My baggy jeans and my Hawaiian shirt sort of clashed with the nice chinos and silk shirt he was wearing.

"I can wait down here for you, if you'd like."

"Naw, you can come upstairs," I said.

"Ok," he grinned.

We got in the elevator and headed upstairs.  My mind started racing.  I was going out on a date.  With a man.  With a real, honest-to-God man.  Even though it wasn't a date, I knew in the back of my head that it was.  He was far too handsome for it not to be one.  I would be stupid - if I decided that I *was* gay - to pass up on him.

A brief pang of fear entered my body.  What if he were a vampire?  What if this were a trick, that he was going to eat me?  I kneeled on the floor of the elevator and started looking through my backpack, finally pulling out a cross.  "Hold this," I said, absentmindedly, still looking through my sack. I figured I could pull that one off, pretend I was looking for something else and the huge religious symbol was in my way.

He took it out of my hands and looked it over.  I glanced up at him.  He was fascinated with the item, and *definitely* not a vampire, "Nice cross.  Why do you carry it around?" he asked.

"Huh?  Oh, um… well…" I stammered.

He smiled at me.  "It's ok, Xander.  I know people don't like to discuss religion too often.  I can understand that."

I smiled back.  "Thanks."  I finished digging through my backpack, realizing my keys were at the bottom anyway, so I didn't look like a total fool in front of him.  I took them out and took the cross from him, "Thanks again, Mike."

"Anytime," he said, clasping my shoulder.

Mike stared at me, his mouth dropping open, "All of this started because your ex-girlfriend bruised your… friend?"

I nodded my head, glancing at him.  I grinned around the spoon of ice cream. He was cute with the shocked look on his face.  Not that I noticed.

Damn, this denial - as Willow said it was - was getting harder and harder.

"So she breaks up with you and your mother - a bored housewife - took that as her… mission in life?"

"Yea," I nodded, "Support your gay son.  Hell, before Anya, I never even really thought that I might be.  Granted, there was a guy or two that I thought was handsome, but women always thought other beautiful women were beautiful, so what would be wrong with finding Angel handsome?"

"Angel?" he asked with a frown.

I chuckled, "An old… friend, I guess.  Well, not really, because he hates me, but that's beside the point.  He lives in LA now.  Handsome man though," I glanced back at him under my lashes, "You kinda remind me of him."

He looked incredibly pleased, "You think I'm handsome?"

I blushed and looked away, "Maybe," I murmured.  I was flirting with him now.  Oh god, I was flirting.

I was mortified!  I was flirting with a *guy* and I was *enjoying* it!  He was making me giddy… no one had ever made me giddy like *this!*  Well, no one but Spike.  He always had the ability to make me a little giddy, but I wasn't thinking about the frustrating blonde at that moment.

His warm hand caressed my shoulder, sending jolts of desire through my body, "You realize that straight men don't find other men attractive, Xander."

I blinked and looked at him, "They… they don't?"

Oh my god.

They didn't?

I had no clue.

"No, they don't," He frowned, "Didn't you have guy friends growing up?"

"Well… I mean, there was Jesse, but he…" I paused, swallowing hard, "He died when we were 16.  Other than that, it's always been Willow, and Buffy… now Tara… Buffy dated Angel, but he hated me, and Riley - that's Buffy's boyfriend, he and I are friends, but we don't sit around talking about other guys, so I guess… I mean, I assumed… There was Oz, but we didn't talk, I didn't like him at all."

"Xander, I have an important question for you."

I turned to him, "Yea?" I asked, somewhat fearfully.  What would he ask me? How would he continue to blow my mind and everything I'd ever thought about myself?

"Do your friends, do they support you?  Or would they completely shun you? Could this be what's holding you back from discovering who you really are?"

I chuckled slightly, looking out over the campus of UC Sunnydale.  That's where we'd ended up after dinner, sitting on a bench under an old oak tree, eating ice cream.  It wasn't exactly the *safest* place to be, but I was enjoying the night, and felt weird asking him to come back to the apartment. Almost like I was scared something would happen.  I *knew* he was attracted to me, I could see it in his fathomless brown eyes.

Besides, I had a stake in the pocket of my jacket.

"Yea," I murmured, "Willow and Tara… Wills is my best friend, since like we were five.  Tara's her girlfriend - they understand me, and listen to me when I need someone to talk to about this.  They are sweethearts, both of them.  Buffy… she'd freak, I think.  I mean, Willow said she almost bolted when she told her about Tara, but she'd eventually be in my camp. Giles…" I laughed, "Giles, he'd drink himself stupid."

"Who's Giles?"

I hadn't mentioned him, I supposed.

"Giles, oh, that's um…" I frowned.  How did I explain who Giles was? "Giles takes care of us.  He's sorta adopted us as his kids, I guess.  We used to hang out in the library in high school - he was the librarian."

"Ahh," he said, nodding, "And he'd freak?"

"Nope, just drink," I chuckled, "He's the closest thing to a father I've ever had.  Mine is a jerk… he's always drunk, not the nicest guy in the world."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "But… you have me too."

"Huh?" I asked, my head flying around to stare at him, "I have you?" I asked, my voice strangled.  What the hell did that mean?

He squeezed my shoulder again, "I mean, you have me to be in your camp too," he nodded, "It helps to have friends, Xander."

"Oh," I said softly, "Oh!  Thanks, Mike."

"I'm glad you decided to come out with me tonight," he grinned slightly, "Even if it isn't a date.  It's been a lot of fun getting to know you – you are as funny as my mom said your mom said.  You are a great guy, Xander. Whoever you end up with - whether it male or female - you will make them very happy."

I was lost in his eyes.  They were so dark, so beautiful - even though in the back of my mind, I kept imagining twinkling blue eyes gazing back at me - I could see him inching forward, and I knew I was.  He was going to kiss me.

My breath caught in my throat.  Oh god, he was going to kiss me, and I was going to kiss him and I was going to be kissing a man!

A throat cleared.

We both jumped away from each other and I licked my lips.  Damn it!  So fucking close!

I glanced up and groaned.  It was the one part of this whole situation that I *didn't* mention to Mike, "Spike.  How nice to see you," I deadpanned.

His eyes were flecked in gold and his cheek was twitching.  He was obviously mad about something - what the hell could be wrong with him now?  It had to be my mom, there was nothing else to explain what could have the blonde so angry.

"Harris," he growled.  He turned to Mike, "And who the bloody hell are you?"

Mike stiffened, and I could feel the tenseness in the air, "Friend of yours?" he hissed.

This must have been the downside of being gay - being attacked by the common folk.

"You could say that, though he hates me too.  Just as soon rip my heart out," I muttered.  I stood up, "Spike, go away, please?  I'm… I have a new friend, and I really don't want you scaring him off before I even get to know him."

"I see how he was bloody trying to get to know you, mate," he sneered, "He's a Ponce, isn't he?  I saw how he was about to kiss you."

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, "So?  What of it?  What the hell do you want, Spike?"

"Xander," he said, his voice low and gravelly, with a touch of anger to it, "Why are you with him?  You *aren't* a Poof."

I blinked.  What?  What was Spike doing?  Why was he saying I wasn't gay? Why the hell did he even care?  "What are you talking about, Spike? Granted, I haven't decided if I am or not, but it could happen."

"Trust me, Harris, you *aren't*.  I know a Poof when I see one.  Peaches? He's a Poof.  You?  No bloody chance in hell."

I frowned, crossing my arms.  I couldn't figure out this new tactic of Spike's to mess with my mind.

Mike stood up, shifting, "Maybe I should just go home…"

"Maybe you should, Nancy-boy," Spike growled.

"Right," Mike nodded, "Ok.  Xander, I have your number… do you want me to call tomorrow?"

"Of *course* he doesn't!" the vampire growled again.

I punched Spike in the shoulder, "Shut *up*, Spike!" I hissed.  I turned to Mike, hoping my eyes held enough of an apologetic look to them, "That would be great, Mike, I think I'd like that."

He flashed me a smile, "Cool.  I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Mike," I said softly.

"It's ok.  We'll talk more tomorrow," he grinned, "See ya later, Xander." He turned on his heel and jogged off into the night.

I watched him, the way his body moved.  He was *beautiful*.  Not as beautiful as the demon standing next to me, but a definite bring home to mom kinda guy.

I turned to Spike, clenching my hands into fists, "What the fuck was that for, Spike?  He was going to kiss me!  I'd been wanting him to all night, and you went and scared him off!"

Spike shrugged, trying to hide his smirk, "You are the one who said you weren't a Ponce, moron."

I narrowed my eyes, "That doesn't give you the right to stop me from talking to someone."  I turned and started walking away from him.

He caught up to me and fell into step with me, "Come on, Harris, I saved you from all kinds of bloody embarrassment.  Why aren't you thanking me?"

"Get the hell away from me, Spike," I growled angrily.  "I don't want to talk to you."

He stopped dead in his tracks.  I kept walking.  "What?" he asked, his voice sounding kind of sad.  Why would Spike even care if I stopped talking to him?

"I don't want to talk to you ever again.  Just stay the hell out of my life, ok?" I asked, turning around and walking backwards, "You aren't my friend, you aren't my mate, or my 'chum'.  I can't stand you, and I just want you to leave me the hell alone!  Why don't you go… fuck Harmony or something? You two are perfect for each other."

His eyes flashed gold, "Fine!" he hissed, "See if I bloody care!"  He spun on his heel and walked the other way.

With a sigh, I turned back around and started the lonely walk back to my apartment.  Damn it!  Now I'd pissed Spike off, Mike was gone, and I had no clue if I were gay or not.  And why the *hell* was Spike spouting off that I wasn't!?  I knew I saw the lust in his eyes the night before.  I thought for a minute there that he'd wanted me.  Damn demons!

I glanced around nervously, waiting for my mother.  I'd called her and asked her to join me at the coffee house for lunch so we could talk.  I figured I owed her that much.  Besides, I knew she'd want to know how my *date* went… I guessed I could clue her in on how horrible it was at the end.

I'd called Willow and Tara after I got home and both of them were really thrilled with the whole Mike situation, but really angry because of what Spike did to me.  Neither of them could figure it out either.  After that, I went to bed, my dreams plagued with both of the men that had captured my interest.  Willow and Tara were there too, as were Buffy and Riley.  They'd occasionally hold up signs, trying to help me decide if I were gay or not. Willow and Tara's always said 'Gay!' and Buffy and Riley's always said, 'Not Gay!'

I woke up just as confused as I was when I went to bed.  I was beginning to think maybe I needed to go see a counselor or something.  Maybe talking to someone professional could help me sort out my feelings.

"Alexander?"

I turned slightly in my booth, smiling at my mom, "Hey, mom."

She smiled and sat down across from me.  I blinked, taking in the slight changes in my mother.  She was wearing a nice outfit, and I didn't smell a drop of liquor on her.  I could see that she was actually *sober*.  "Mom, what's up?  You aren't… well, you aren't…"

"Drunk?" she asked, smiling gently, "No, I had breakfast this morning with some of the other mothers… I didn't want to make a *complete* fool of myself."

My god.  My mom wasn't drunk.

Maybe this was a good thing.

"So…" she grinned, "How did your date go?  Was he as wonderful as Emma said he was?"

"Mike?" I asked, smiling.  I sipped my coffee, "He was great, mom. Handsome and all that.  We really got along really well.  But… mom, you can't keep trying to find dates for me."

She looked crushed.  "I'm sorry, Alexander, I was only trying to help… I wanted you to know how much I supported you…"

"I'm not sure if I'm gay or not, mom."

"But you admit that it could be?" she asked hopefully.

I chuckled, "Yea, I could be.  So these mothers, what do you do at the meetings?  Talk about your gay sons and daughters?"

"At first, yea, but now that I've been in the group for a little bit, we've gotten to the point where we talk about other things," dhe reached out and squeezed my hand, "I actually have *friends* now, Alexander."

I smiled.  My mom never had many friends, as long as I could remember. Between the shitty way my dad treated her, and the booze she drank, she didn't even leave the house all that often.  I was glad she'd found someone to relate to, someone with common ground, "I'm happy for you, mom.  It's always good to have friends."

"So!" she said, leaning forward, "Did you protect yourself?"

"Huh?" I asked, blinking in mild shock, "Protect myself from what?"

"Last night… you know… did you protect yourself?  I don't want you getting sick."

"Huh?  Oh… Oh!" I blushed, "Mom, we didn't…"

She looked crushed, "You didn't?  Damn.  I was hoping…"

Oh my god, my mom was hoping I'd gotten some.

"We almost kissed though," I informed her.

"Really?" she asked, perking back up, "Almost?  Why almost?  What happened? Did you freak?  You freaked out, didn't you?  Do you think you'll ever see him again, or that it ruined everything?  Emma said he has a great job, so you don't have to worry about supporting him like that little slut you used to date…" She held up her hand when I tried to interject, "I'm sorry, Alexander, but I never liked her.  Always coming around just to have sex with you… you deserve so much better.  I always thought you and little Willow Rosenberg would end up together, but now I know why you didn't…"

"Mom, Willow has a girlfriend," I smirked.

"*Really*?" she asked, "She was always so in love with you!"

"Actually, I think she's bi… she likes men and women," I nodded, "But anyway, this isn't about Willow.  This is about me.  I didn't freak out, mom.  Spike came up and interrupted us."

"Spike?  Who is Spike?" she frowned.

"Mom, you accosted him in a grocery store.  You know who he is… blonde guy?"

"William!  Oh, right!  He interrupted you?  So he wants you then?" She frowned slightly, "Spike… why do they call him…" Her eyes widened, "Oh my god!  Do you think he's…well… you know…?"

I frowned, "No, I don't… what?" I *knew* where Spike got his nickname from, and I didn't think my mother could handle the fact that it was because that was his weapon of choosing when he killed someone.

"Because he's well-endowed?" she whispered with a slight giggle.

I blinked.  And then I blinked again.  And then I believe my jaw hit the table.  My *mother* - the very woman that gave birth to me - was wondering if the name Spike came from the fact that he was well-endowed.  I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

I shifted slightly, realizing that the thought of seeing just how well-endowed Spike was got me aroused.  I groaned and covered my face, "Mom, I doubt that's where his name came from."

"Have you seen him naked?" she asked haughtily.

"No!  God, of course not!"

"Then you don't know," she said with a nod, "He could be," she turned to

the waitress that came to our table and ordered her food.

I weakly gave the waitress my order, suddenly not having much of an appetite anymore.  Spike infuriated me, and yet I still wanted him.  And my mother wanted me to have him.  And I *still* had no idea if I were gay or not.

My god, it just never stopped, did it?

Mom and I actually had a good day.  We shopped a bit, we talked about her different books, she told me about her friends.  I was glad my mom was finally getting out of the house.  No matter what happened, no matter if I decided I was gay or not, this was a good thing, that my mom made friends over something other than alcohol, and she had a place to go now when my dad got too bad.

I saw a different side to my mother that day, a side I'd never seen before. She had no clue about any of this, and still approached it in a way that made me cringe, but she cared.  That was the thing.  She finally found something about me that she could care about.

I began to understand that it wasn't that I wasn't a good person, but the reason why she never cared about me was because I'd always closed both of them out of my life.  With my *father* the way he was and my mother as a lush, there wasn't any real reason to let them know who I really was.  Dad would have beat the hell out of me because it wasn't good enough, and mom would have just muttered angrily from the couch, telling us both to shut up because she was too drunk to realize that he was hurting me.

"Mom," I said softly, "you should leave dad.  He's a bastard."

She looked at me in horror, "I can't leave your father, Alexander!  I couldn't survive without him."

I turned to her, angry that she would dismiss herself like that, "Mom, seriously!  He's a bastard!  He hurts you, and he hurt me.  You can do so much better than that."

"Alexander, I've been with him for *years*.  I can't imagine what it would be like to not be with him," she murmured softly, taking my arm.

I reached up and squeezed her hand, "Much better than what it is now.  Listen, why don't you come to the apartment tonight… I'll cook us dinner - it won't be much, mind you, but I'm learning - and we can talk more and you can sleep in the bed and I'll take the couch."

"Alexander, I…"

"Nope, mom, you are going to," I insisted, "It'll be good gay son – mother bonding time," I nodded.

She turned to me, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, "You admitted it!"

I blinked, "Admitted what, mom?"

"That you are gay," she grinned, hugging me.

Oh my god.  I did.  I ran a quick check on all my body parts - the same one I did after every fight with a demon.  Yep, everything was still there. Hmm.  Maybe it wasn't all that bad.  I still found women attractive, but men…

Oh, I couldn't wait to get home and call Wills and Tara!  They'd be so pleased!  "Mom, we should invite Willow and Tara over for dinner, what do you think?"

My mother smiled at me, "I think that would be wonderful, Alexander.  I'd like to meet this girl that has captured Willow's heart - she's sweet, you say?"

"One of the sweetest," I glanced around, noting that it was now night, "Come on, mom, let's get home."  The last thing I wanted to do was try to explain to my mom about the demons of the night.

"Sounds good.  I don't like being out after dark anyway.  Have you ever noticed that there are some pretty strange things that happen in this town after dark?"

I chuckled, "If you only knew," I murmured.

She took my hand and we started walking down the sidewalk once again.  It was nice, bonding with my mom.  She really was a great person.  Very intelligent when she wasn't drunk, and I was proud of her.  Apparently, she'd been so busy the last few days, running around town trying to set me up with someone, or going to a meeting, or going to one of her friend's houses she'd forgotten to drink.

I was especially proud when we passed the liquor store and she didn't even notice.  My mom was well onto the road to healing.  If only I could convince her to leave my bastard of a father…

"Well, well, look who we have here."

We both turned and I groaned.  Of course, it *had* to be my dad.  My mom stepped back slightly, and I stepped forward, shielding her from him.  He was drunk - my guess was that he'd just stepped out of the liquor store, "Dad, go home," I said.

"What, you think you are going to stand up to me now, boy?  You think you are something now that you have this new apartment and all your little friends can come over whenever they want to now?"  He stepped forward.

My mother whimpered slightly, clutching my arm in a death grip.  She was even more scared of him than I was.

"Dad, *go* *home*."

"You know, boy, I found all the books that your mom stashed, hoping to hide from me," he said, the grin on his face far worse than any evil grin Angelus could ever have.

I paled slightly, "W-What books?"

"So you are a fag now, is that it?" he growled slightly, gripping the bag of liquor in his hand, "You know, I've decided that I need to beat the gayness out of you, and then beat your mother for allowing it to happen and encouraging it.  How could you?  How could you support your son for being a pansy?"

"Because I love him!" she cried from behind me, "No matter who he is, he's still *my* son!"

"Well," he roared, "no son of mine is going to be gay!"  He lunged, pushing me out of the way.  I fell to the ground, slamming my shoulder pretty hard against the concrete.  I cried out in pain, but ignored it, thinking only about mom.  I couldn't let him hurt her.  I could see the rage that was in his eyes, and it really *scared* me… he was liable to kill us.

She shrieked and I stood up, glaring at my father's back.  He had a handful of her hair and had her pressed against the wall.  I glanced around. Unfortunately, there was *no* one on the street.  Damn!  I was going to have to take the old man out myself.

"You *stupid* *bitch*," he growled, slapping her.

"Alexander, run!" she cried, obviously wanting to save me from his wrath.  But I couldn't - I wouldn't leave her alone with him.

"Sorry, mom, but when he starts to hurt you, that hurts me," I punched him in the back, right around where his kidneys were.

He roared in pain and spun around, launching at me.  I grunted when I went down, his hands around my throat, choking me.  I struggled against him, trying to punch him, but I could tell I was losing consciousness.  I couldn't believe I was going to die like that, on the street, my dad beating the hell out of me.

Suddenly, there was a roar, and my dad was lifted off of me.  I blinked, and looked up into the amber eyes of my savior.  "Spike?" I asked softly, groaning as a wave of pain washed over me.

He grabbed my shirt and hauled me up, "No one bloody hurts you but me," he growled, "You are *mine*, you understand?"

I nodded weakly.  He turned to attack my father and I grabbed his arm, stopping him, "Spike… you can't hurt him.  The chip, remember?" I murmured.

"Sod the pain!  The bloody bastard has gone too far this time!" he roared. He turned, grabbing my father by the front of his shirt.  My father cringed at what I'm sure he figured was a deformity of his face, "If you *ever* lay a hand on my Xander or Mrs. H again, I swear to bloody god, I'll kill you," he hissed, slamming my father into the wall.

The contact with the wall knocked my father unconscious.  Spike cried out, bending over in agonizing pain.  I glanced at my mother, making sure she was ok.  She was watching us all with wide eyes - and from the angle Spike kept his body, I didn't think she saw his face.  I knew she was ok.  I slowly moved to Spike, "Spike?  Are you ok?" I asked, putting my hand on his back.

He stood, looking at me.  I reached out and brushed the tears away from his cheeks, glad he had his human mask on.  He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to him, kissing me hard and possessively.

I turned to jelly.

I even moaned.

When he pulled away, I was gasping for air.  He rested his forehead against mine, "You are *mine*, Harris," he growled, "I got you away from that bloke you were seeing last night, and your bloody father thought he was going to hurt you?  Not going to happen.  If you are going to be a Ponce, that's fine, but you are *my* Ponce."

I closed my eyes, reliving the kiss in my head.  I nodded, a warm feeling traveling through my body.  Spike *wanted* *me*!  Not Harmony, not Drusilla, but *me*!

Mom walked over to us, "William?" she asked softly.

Spike turned to her, smiling, "Mrs. H!  Are you ok?"  He looked her over, making sure that she wasn't hurt.

"I'm fine, but I think we need to get Alexander back to the apartment.  I think he's hurt," she said softly, "Are you hurt, baby?"

I smiled at Spike.  "I'm going to be ok, mom," Spike grinned, the lust flaring in his blues.  Oh, yea.  I was going to be fine.

"Wow," Alex said, sitting back on his heels.

Willow smiled at her seventeen-year-old son, glancing over to see Tara walk into the living room.  The dirty blonde leaned down, kissing Willow softly.  She sat next to her, taking Willow's hand.  She smiled at her son, "So?"

"That's how Uncle Xander and Uncle Spike got together?" he asked in amazement, going to the couch to join his both of his mothers.  He clutched Xander's journal to his chest, having cried over some of the parts and laughed his ass off over the other parts.  It amazed him that his grandma was the one that got Xander and Spike together.

"Still in shock over how your grandma was?" Xander asked, leaning forward with a smile.

Xander's namesake nodded his head.  He'd started calling Xander's mom 'grandma' early on, and the woman loved it, finally having a child that she could dote on and make up for all the wrong things she'd done raising Xander, "I can't believe she really was drunk all the time.  I have never seen her drink," he said in amazement.

"Well," Spike said, putting his arm around his lover's shoulders, "her husband was a bastard.  I was glad when she left him.  Actually though, I'm surprised your Uncle Xander turned out as good as he did," he smirked slightly.

Xander turned, slapping Spike on the chest.  "Shut up, blondie."

"Still…" Spike murmured softly, "I am going to miss her."

Xander nodded, sighing.  It had been a week since his mother passed away, and it was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to deal with.  Since she'd stopped drinking, her and Xander had gotten to be so close, "I miss her. God, do I miss her."

"She was a good woman," Willow nodded.

"One of the best," Tara agreed.

Alex sighed, leaning against Willow, "Mom, how did Aunt Buffy and Uncle Riley act when they found out Uncle Xander was gay?"

Willow chuckled, "That same blind panic I got when I told her about Tara, but it didn't take long for them to get over it.  Riley started being nicer to Spike too, and Spike stopped being the annoying demon that he was."

"Hey!" Spike cried, throwing a pillow at Willow, "I'm the Big Bad!  What do you expect?"

"And Grandpa Giles?  What did he do?" Alex laughed, looking at Xander, "Did he do the glasses thing?  Did he drink himself stupid?"

"Oh, yea, just like I thought he would," Xander chuckled, "He mumbled something about Ethan too… never could figure that one out."  He curled to Spike, resting his head on the blonde's shoulder.

"Uncle Xander… I just can't imagine you… you know… with a *woman*. It's so. . .weird."  Alex chuckled, "But then on the flip side, I can't really imagine you with anyone but Uncle Spike.  I mean, you two are perfect for each other."

"Thanks, mate," Spike grinned.

Tara stood up, "Dinner's ready, guys, are you hungry?"

Xander shot up, tugging on Spike's hand.  "Always ready to eat, Tara, you should know that."

Spike stood, grumbling, "I'm coming, moron, stop trying to tug my arm out of my socket.  I'd have to punish you for that one."

Xander turned, leaning forward to kiss Spike, "And that would be a bad thing for what reason?"

Spike chuckled, wrapping his arm around his lover.  Over the nineteen years he'd been with Xander Harris, he never got bored, as the younger man always entertained him in some way or the other.  He watched as the man grew from a confused child to a beautiful young man, knowing who and what he was. Amazingly enough, Spike was shocked at how he fell in love more and more with the man.

Every time Xander would bat those big brown eyes, Spike knew that he'd *never* let the man go.

"Spike!  Stop thinking about how you want me and let's *eat*!" Xander hissed in his ear.

Spike chuckled, wrapping his arm around Xander.  "Sounds like a plan to me, nummy treat."  He leaned in, nipping at Xander's neck, "I could sit here and bloody eat all day long."

"Ug!  Can't you guys get a room!?" Alex whined, "I mean, my god, you are *old*!  Stop being all… eww!  That's like watching… ew, like watching my moms!  You are adults!"

Xander chuckled, "I won't even say what I was thinking.  Probably give the kid a coronary," he smirked.

Willow giggled, walking over to Xander and kissing his forehead, "Please don't do that."  She turned and walked into the dining room, following her wife.  Alex bounced into the dining room after them.

Spike pulled away from Xander, not wanting to suffer Willow's wrath, knowing that the redhead liked to have dinner with her family.  He turned, glancing at his lover, "Coming, Xander?" he asked.  He walked into the dining room.

Xander smiled, thinking about all the good times he'd had with his family. It hadn't been an easy road to take, and he'd been ridiculed more than one time as he let the world know about his love for the bleached blonde, but with Spike, Willow, Tara, and later Buffy, Riley, and Giles, he survived. He had his family and no one could *ever* take that away from him.

He grinned, walking over to the couch, where Alex had put the journal down. He picked it up, running his thumb over the colorful design on the cover. It was the same journal that he'd bought the day at the mall years and years before when he was still trying to decide if he was gay or not.

He sighed happily, knowing that the journal held all of his most important moments, and even some of the not as important moments.  He'd been keeping one ever since then, always using it as an aid to figure out what was going on with his life, and how to fix whatever problems he had.

"Uncle Xander!  Mom's getting mad!" Alex said, sticking his head around the corner.

Xander chuckled, knowing that Willow was probably sitting at the table fuming that he was holding up dinner, "I'm coming."

He put the journal back on the couch and walked into the dining room, joining his family for dinner.

(End of fic)