The sun was warm on his face, fitting for such a beautiful summer’s day. He heard the breeze as it ruffled through the trees surrounding him, then felt it as it playfully dove through the grass around him. He knew without looking that the sky was clear, only a few puffy white clouds idly dotting the sky.

Footsteps crunched through the grass. “Yo.”

It had been perfect.

Watanuki kept his eyes closed, ignoring Doumeki while he tried to hold onto the blissful peace of the afternoon.

“Did you make sushi like I asked?”

A vein started twitching in Watanuki’s forehead. He took a long, deep breath and forced himself to stay calm, letting the air hiss out through his teeth like the retort that threatened to break from his lips. Raising one thin arm barely off the grass, he pointed to his left, where he’d last left the picnic basket.

The grass rustled as he heard Doumeki sit, followed by the sounds of the picnic basket being opened and rifled through.

“Himawari sends her regrets.”

One eye popped open to glare at Doumeki. Watanuki had a feeling his good mood was about to disappear.

“What?” The word came out as a lazy snarl, caught halfway between his previous calm and rising anger.

“She said she had some errands that came up. She won’t be joining us.”

Watanuki closed his eyes and groaned. He should have known that perfect weather like this meant that something else in his life had to go wrong. As Yuuko would say, it was hitsuzen.

“Yuuko?”

He had almost managed to forget Doumeki was here, until his perpetual annoyance spoke.

“Hangover.”

He wasn’t sure which would have been better, having to deal with Yuuko and her constant demands or being left alone with Doumeki. At least Doumeki was quiet, for the most part.

“Are you going to lie there forever?”

Apparently, he’d given Doumeki too much credit. He glared at Doumeki with one eye and considered making a rude gesture. “I’m enjoying the peacefulness of what had been a perfect day, before you showed up.”

“I don’t see what’s so peaceful about just sitting around.”

“Maybe if you shut up, you’d understand,” Watanuki growled, closing his eyes and mouth as a definite signal that he was done discussing it.

He would have thought that, out of anyone, Doumeki would have understood what was so nice about just sitting quietly and relaxing, considering all the meditation and stuff that priests in training were supposed to go through.

The silence around Watanuki made his brain wander, and he found himself considering Doumeki from a different light. Maybe his parents, or whoever it was that was training him, didn’t go for all that old nonsense so maybe they weren’t making Doumeki meditate and learn the old prayers and all that. Or, maybe they were and Doumeki was just tired of having to be quiet during his studies, so he didn’t see the point of a person actively seeking quiet when they didn’t have to. But that didn’t explain Doumeki’s fairly silent nature, but there were a number of reasons that could be attributed to the lack of talkativeness on Doumeki’s part….

…and Watanuki really had no idea why he even cared, let alone why he was bothering to think about it when all he wanted was to be left alone to enjoy the nice, quiet afternoon, until…

Something light and feathery touched his nose, and he froze, fighting the urge to sneeze. Slowly, Watanuki opened both eyes to stare cross-eyed at the splotch of blue fluttering in his field of vision.

“There’s a butterfly on your nose.”

Powdery wings brushed his cheeks, halting the hasty reply he’d been about to spit out. I can see that, he wanted to shout, but shouting would scare off the creature.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed back into the grass and let the butterfly soak up the sun with him.

“Aren’t you going to do anything about that?”

He ignored Doumeki, forgetting that the other boy was even there as he concentrated on the light brush of the butterfly’s wing against his cheeks and the soft tickle of its tiny legs on his nose.

Suddenly the butterfly was gone from his nose, replaced by a soft, yet slightly wet pressure against his lips. For a second he thought the butterfly had merely relocated but the pressure was too firm to be a butterfly, too heavy for the tiny creature.

Opening his eyes, half of a black-haired head filled his vision, too close for the features to be anything but blurry, even with his glasses on.

Doumeki sat back, matching Watanuki stare for stare, but Doumeki’s face was as calm and expressionless as a puddle while Watanuki could only guess at the myriad emotions playing out across his face – shock and surprise, mixed with confusion and a hint of uncertainly.

For once in the long years he’s known Doumeki, Watanuki didn’t know how to respond. He should be angry, outraged, but no heated words leapt off his lips like they usually did when Doumeki said or did something to annoy him.

He wasn’t even sure he was annoyed, which in itself was annoying, and now he wasn’t even making sense. None of this made any sense.

“What was that for?” His voice came out low and even when he should be shouting or screaming, possibly even flailing his arms.

Doumeki shrugged and moved back to the picnic basket without saying a word. Two plates were set out, heaped with food. Doumeki had unpacked the basket while Watanuki had been lying around.

Watanuki glared, glad that his body hadn’t completely rebelled against normal reactions. Standing slowly, he crossed over to the blanket that had been spread across the ground and sat on the opposite side from Doumeki, the basket firmly set between them. Doumeki ignored him and popped bits of sushi into his mouth with his fingers.

Reluctantly, Watanuki picked at the food Doumeki had set out for him. Doumeki had been smart enough not to put any of the shrimp pieces on Watanuki’s pieces. Watanuki watched Doumeki pop one of the disgusting pieces into his mouth and Watanuki reminded himself firmly that he’d made those for Himawari, not because Doumeki had asked or because he knew they were one of Doumeki’s favorites.

That would have been stupid. He didn’t even like Doumeki.

His thoughts circled back to the kiss that he refused to acknowledge had even happened. It was a good kiss, his traitorous mind thought. He bit roughly into a tuna roll, since he wasn’t about to get near enough to Doumeki to bite him.

So much for a perfect day.

“You have people who don’t want to lose you.”

He was tired again, but that was no surprise. Fatigue had been a constant of his life for the past week. He’d expected to feel better after Doumeki had shot that woman, the nice woman who had said things that haunted his memory still, and he had been fine for a few days. Then winter had struck in full force and his body had been too stressed to handle the cold of his lonely apartment, kind of like the cold of the rest of his life.

“…he didn’t want you to vanish forever.”

Yuuko’s words filled his ears, the only sound he could hear over the momentary ringing in his ears, drowning out everything but the sudden sense of falling.

“You alright?” Doumeki was suddenly real close and Watanuki wasn’t as cold anymore.

“‘m just tired.” His words were slurred slightly, though he was only half aware of it. A glance around the street told him that no one else had noticed Watanuki almost fall over. There wasn’t even anyone else on the street. Why was Doumeki here, his mind asked, but the question seemed less important than trying to keep himself upright, a feat which had become harder than it should be.

“Come with me.” Suddenly they were turning, the quick movement making Watanuki swoon. He lost his fight with balance, tilting straight into Doumeki’s waiting arms.

“I need to go to work,” he protested, the words raised as a flimsy shield. He wasn’t sure what he was defending himself from or to or what, but he knew he needed to say something. Yuuko was expecting him. He couldn’t wander off wherever it was Doumeki was leading him, though really it was more of half-dragging him.

“I’ll call Yuuko.”

“Oh.” That made everything alright, and the next thing he knew he was staring up at a blurry ceiling. At least he thought it was a ceiling. Wherever it was he was warm, a lot warmer than he should be considering how cold it was. He should be colder. His apartment was a lot colder than this.

“Here.” Something large thudded into the floor to the left of his head and he turned his head slightly to blink at Doumeki. What was Doumeki doing at his apartment?

“Huh?” At least that’s what he tried to say. It came out more as an intelligible gurble.

“You have a fever,” Doumeki said slowly, enunciating every word like Watanuki couldn’t understand him. He understood just fine. At least he thought he did. He definitely understood the first part of what Doumeki said. There was something after that that he couldn’t quite get but he figured it wasn’t important. Maybe it wasn’t important.

Strong arms lifted him, propping him against something warm and he thought that wasn’t too bad. He didn’t like his apartment cold so it was alright if there was something warm in it. A spoon tapped against his lips and he instinctively opened his mouth. Warm broth slipped down his throat and he decided this wasn’t his apartment. People didn’t cook for him in his apartment. There was no one in his apartment, just him and the cold. Here was better. It was warm and there was Doumeki and food, and that was better than the cold, he thought.

“Dou…” The other half of the name was cut off as the spoon tipped into his mouth and he swallowed before trying again. “Doumeki?”

“What?” Metal clanked against wood, and he guessed that meant Doumeki had put down the spoon for a moment.

The room spun when he left his eyes open so he closed them, the dark helping him form the thoughts that suddenly needed to get out into coherent, or at least semi-coherent sentences. “Was it true?”

“Was what true?”

Yuuko’s words echoed in his head again and he had to know. It was suddenly vitally important that he ask, that he know for sure if Yuuko was right.

“You don’t want me to disappear, right?”

There was a long paused before Doumeki spoke, the space between words filled with noise swirling in the dark behind Watanuki’s eyes. He felt tired again, tired and warm and he wanted to sleep. He probably would sleep soon, he could feel himself slipping closer to unconsciousness every second he kept his eyes closed and he slumped further against Doumeki.

“Yeah,” Doumeki finally confirmed.

Watanuki felt himself smile as he drifted back to sleep.

Xander took out a sheet of paper, wrote “Regrets” in big, bold words across the top and drew a line underneath. His life was full of regrets, mostly regrets other people had about him.

Number one: his father regretted drinking away the money for an abortion.

Two, his mother regretted not figuring out that whole clothes hanger thing till it was too late.

Three, his father regretted not figuring out a punch to the stomach was as good as an abortion and cost less. That was how their second child went away.

Four, both of his parents regretted not sending him on a paper route sooner. Kids were doing it at ten these days and they’d waited until he was thirteen. Would have saved them three years of paying for clothes from the Salvation Army had they known.

Five, when he was drunk Xander’s father regretted holding back. He could have been rid of the kid a lot sooner instead of waiting until Xander was old enough to live on his own.

Six, Spike regretted not figuring it out sooner. He’d known Xander almost a full year before he realized that not all of his bruises were caused by patrolling.

Seven, Buffy, Giles, Willow, Tara, Angel, Oz, Cordelia. Each of them regretted not noticing before Spike did. They’d known him for so long and never paid attention. In the end it was Spike, the only one held outside of their little group, a part of the team but not a friend, who got Xander to admit what was going on.

Eight, this one was the first of Xander’s. He regretted not seeing that there were people that cared.

Nine, Xander regretted not figuring out that he could have left at any time. Giles had offered first, as had Joyce, but in the end he’d moved into Spike’s crypt. Actually, the vampire had insisted. He’d put up quite a fuss when Xander tried to argue but it had been as inexorable as rain falling from the sky. It was going to happen sooner or later so might as well make it sooner and drop all the fuss.

Ten, Spike regretted waiting two bloody years before he made a move, all the time doubting that Xander liked him back.

Eleven, Xander regretted waiting two years before he jumped Spike, shoved them both on the bed and told Spike to ‘fuck me, already, or I’m leaving’. So Spike had and that was two years wasted when they could have been having mad-passionate monkey sex. Or something like that.

“Wossat?”

Xander looked up with a smile, leaning back into the chest hovering behind his chair. “Just writing a few things down.”

Spike glanced at the list and Xander let him. The vampire opened his mouth to say something, a frown creasing his features. Xander stopped it with a kiss. “It’s part of a spell,” he explained. Spike shot him a worried look. Magic never had gone over too well with him after the whole power-happy Willow thing but Xander smiled softly as he amended his statement. “Kinda. Not really a spell. It’s one of those girly ‘ooo, look I’m a witch, here’s a fake love spell’ kind of things Willow found on the internet. She thought it might make me feel better… about things.”

The look on the vampire’s face said that Spike didn’t quite believe him but was willing to go along with it. “Wot’s the paper do?”

Xander’s smile widened and he nuzzled into the cold neck above him. “You write down all the regrets you have on the piece of paper, fold it up, and then burn it over a candle. The online thingy said to use a white candle but Willow said it doesn’t really matter what color the candle is as long as it means good things to me.”

“‘It means good things’?” Spike looked skeptical.

Leaning up, Xander kissed Spike softly. “She means as long as I like the color.”

“Ah, right. You done?” Spike waved a hand at the list.

Xander read through it once. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Good. Then let’s make with the burning so we can make with the shagging, eh, luv?”

That brought a laugh and Xander smiled, folding the piece of paper carefully. “I’d like that, Spike. I’d like that.”