"Where the hell have you been?"
Xander, who'd thought he'd actually managed to sneak down the basement stairs without Spike noticing, paused to give Spike a guilty look. "I, um, can explain?"
"You went all the way to LA, to punch Angel, and didn't invite me along to watch?"
"Well," Xander said. "I didn't punch Angel so much as break my fist on his jaw and... hey, how do you know I hit Angel?"
"Willow told me," Spike replied. "Do you know how embarrassing that was? I ran over there in a panic, terrified something had happened to you, only to find you'd decided to take a road trip without me."
"How'd Willow know?" Xander asked before hiding his face with his uninjured hand. "Oh God, does everybody know?"
"Pretty much," Spike said, with absolutely no sympathy, as he crashed down onto the couch. "Cordy called her and your hand isn't broken, just bruised."
"Feels broken," Xander muttered.
"Apparently Willow got an earful about emergency rooms at 3 AM when there was no real need to be there."
"Great. So Willow's going to be big with the guilt trip: you scared your boyfriend and he came crying to me; I had to listen to Cordy complain for hours."
"She's not the one you should be worrying about, pet."
"Huh?" Xander looked up, obviously confused, for a moment before he figured it out. "Oh, um, sorry?"
"What were you doing there in the first place?" Spike asked.
"Remember how you told me you and Angel had, well, you know..." he trailed off. When Spike didn't reply, he added, gesturing suggestively with his uninjured hand. "You know."
"Shagged," Spike said, rolling his eyes.
"Right, when he was Angelus?"
"Course I recall it," Spike said.
"Well," Xander said, looking around the room as if for an escape. Finding none, he added, "I got jealous."
"You what? Of Angel?"
Xander sighed and then spoke quickly, as if trying to get it over with. "I hit him in the jaw, like Willow told you, and then, while Cordy was driving us to the hospital, I told him that you were mine and he should keep his big poufy mitts to himself."
Spike started laughing. "You told Angel to keep his hands off me?"
"It's not funny," Xander sulked.
"Not planning on having a little chat with Dru as well, are you?"
"Funny that you should ask. You don't happen to know where she is, do you?"
"Don't need to. She sent a postcard." Spike held it up and used it to wave Xander over. As Xander joined him on the couch and took the postcard from him, Spike said, "You can skip the part about her dead dog Rover. That's just some nonsense she comes up with every once in a while. Just jump straight to the bottom."
"When you're ready to marry him, you have my blessing," Xander read. He turned the postcard over a few times, as if looking for more. "I don't get it."
"It's like a father giving the bride away. Dru, as my Sire, is, well," Spike stopped, not sure how to explain it.
"Acknowledging that I own you," Xander said, smiling for the first time since he'd walked down the stairs.
"You don't own me," Spike growled.
"Come on, Spike, we agreed on this. You own me; I own you."
"If I really owned you, do you think I'd let you just disappear like that?"
"Hey," Xander said, starting to look worried. "She didn't use my name. How do we know it's me she's giving you to?" he finished off in a panic.
"She's not giving me to, oh, never mind." Spike handed over a second postcard that had the words, "I am giving you to Xander," written on it.
"How do I know she doesn't mean some other," Xander started.
Spike pulled out a third postcard and read it. "I do mean Xander Harris. Tell him to stop being silly and kiss him."
Spike obeyed the postcard.