Mostly reflection on the subject, "What the hell am I doing here?"

Why the hell did it matter so much whether this guy was Spike or not? Of course he wasn't Spike. Spike was dead. Spike was, to be more precise, dust. So why was Xander so obsessed?

Sitting on the milk crate in the dark as an hour passed ... and then two hours ... he gradually started to think maybe he was figuring it out. It was because he bought it. Xander, that is. He'd finally bought the redemption thing.

For a long time, he'd thought he had Spike pegged. He was a narcissistic, selfish, arrogant, amoral, sadistic, manipulative, lying, cheating, mercenary, psychotic, demonic bastard who would stab you in the back -- or drain you dry -- for five bucks and a beer. And laugh while he did it.

Spike wasn't just a jerk. He was evil.

Except that ... once Xander got a bit of physical and metaphorical distance from the whole thing, he was able to see Spike in a bit of context. Like comparing him to Angelus.

Angelus was evil. In fact, as far as Xander was concerned, even Angel was evil, disguised with a broody face and a pity-me guilt trip. There was something cold and ruthless and scary as hell behind that supposedly "angelic" face. Xander had never thought he looked particularly "angelic," anyway. More like "cave man." But when they were handing out vampire nicknames, apparently "cave man" had already been chosen, and so he got stuck with "angelic." Maybe it was just meant to be ironic, since the guy was such an incredibly evil prick.

In comparison with Angelus, even unchipped Spike was a tiny yapping dog that snapped at your ankles. Annoying as hell -- you might even want to kick it across the room -- but not exactly evil. Chipped, he was even less evil. And as he kept helping out, even after Buffy died, it just got harder and harder to think of him as evil, and easier and easier to think of him as just a jerk.

And then ... in the battle with The First ... Xander wasn't completely out of the loop. Buffy had told them about Spike. About how it had been Spike who was the true hero of the fight. About how he had stayed, let himself be burned to death in order to defeat The First's army and destroy the Hellmouth. The rest of them had helped ... of course they'd helped ... Anya had died helping ... but in the end, it was Spike who had closed the deal. He could have run. He could have left. He could have said, "Fuck this shit," and skipped town. But he didn't. He stayed -- even after Buffy asked him to leave, even after Buffy and everyone else had left -- and he fought, and he died.

Xander didn't believe it for a while. Well, he believed the words, intellectually. But none of it fit with his mental image of Spike. His definition of Spikishness.

But there was no denying that the Hellmouth was gone.

And so was Spike.

And then a few months later Xander had heard through the Scooby grapevine that Spike had been somehow brought back as a ghost ... and that he was stuck with Angel.

And that was when Xander really let go some of that Spike hatred. Because Spike? Probably the only person on the planet who hated Angel as much as Xander did. So the thought of Spike being somehow stuck with Angel made Xander wince and think, "Aw man. Poor guy!"

But then -- and this was almost impossible to believe -- Spike had stuck with the good-guy fight in Angel's camp, as well. And when they went up against some major inter-dimensional baddies and it was pretty certain they were all going to buy the farm ... well ... Spike stuck it out again. And once again got killed for his troubles.

Xander had a rule. Die saving the world twice and you deserve props.

Spike and Buffy were the only two people he knew who had done it. Angel didn't count, since getting stabbed with a giant sword and then shoved into a world-destroying hell-dimension portal which you yourself had purposely created really didn't count as voluntary world-saving, as far as Xander was concerned.

So ... Xander didn't think about Sunnydale all that much anymore -- until this week -- and he'd only talked to Willow or Giles on the phone once or twice in the past year ... but when he did think back, there was an uncomfortable sensation of having been wrong. Of having been wrong about Spike, and having treated him wrong. Of maybe having been a jerk. Not only a jerk, but a less-heroic jerk constantly putting down a more-heroic jerk. And that was just ... pathetic. He didn't like feeling pathetic.

Xander had never thought of himself as a hero. But to have Spike outdo him on that score was just ... a little humiliating.

So, really, if the absolute complete honest truth were told, the reason he was here, the reason he was stalking mysterious blonde men, the reason his ass was falling asleep on a plastic milk crate in a dark alley next to a dumpster, the reason this was all so important to him ... was because some secret shameful part of him was hoping that this guy was Spike, so Xander would be able to jump up and say, "Ah HA! I knew it! It was all a scam. He did run away from a fight! That whole hero thing, that whole redemption thing, that's all a crock of shit. I was right! I was right all along!"

He was interrupted in his thoughts by a movement in the dark, over near the other dumpster. And then, clearly visible even in the shadows, a short crop of pale blonde hair. The target was on the move. Xander stood slowly and stretched his legs, wiggled his butt, cracked his back, and tried to do it all without alerting the blonde prey to his presence.

Not-Spike walked quickly down the alley in the opposite direction, and Xander tried to saunter casually after him without being noticed. When he got to the end of the alley, Not-Spike was nowhere to be seen. And then ... blonde. Xander hurried to keep that hair in sight. His butt still felt half-asleep, so he was probably walking like an idiot, but he was not going to have sat in that alley so long for nothing. He was going to see where Not-Spike was going, and he was going to get a good look at the guy's face to set his mind at rest. He was going to verify that this guy was truly NOT Spike, and then he could go home and just not have to think about it anymore.

The guy opened a door and slipped inside, leaving Xander free to jog to catch up, since there was no longer any chance of being noticed. But when he got there, he froze, looking up at the brightly-lit sign over the door.

The large photos on either side of the door showed attractive men in various nude poses, little red stars covering the naughty bits with the words "HOT!" and "CUM AND SEE!"

Xander hesitated a long moment, then glanced around him on the street. This part of town wasn't very crowded, even at 8 or 9 pm. A few homeless people. Guys asking for spare change. Stragglers on their way to somewhere else.

Remembering all that time sitting in the alley, flexing his left butt-cheek to see that yes, in fact, it was still half-asleep, Xander wasn't about to get scared off by a gay porn shop. He girded his metaphorical loins, opened the door, and stepped inside.

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