It was stupid. After all they'd done - in the broom closet, the dorm and even the classroom; it was absolutely insane that they'd nearly blown it all over something so innocent. The phone call had been good news - a huge exhalation of tension that came with that magic little word: benign.

Xander flipped the phone closed and leaned heavily on a tree, unmindful of the winter wind whipping his coat around his legs and the light snow falling; Spike stopped dead, listening, waiting.

"She's fine - everything's fine." On a cloud of steamed breath, sweet words followed by a sweet smile.

"Thank god, love," Spike said. "Thank god."

And, almost on their own, hands had snaked out to clasp, pocket-warmed skin sliding against silky leather that he wanted to burrow under to find matching heat. The touch was enough - solid, reassuring - all's well, I'm here.

It was only dumb luck that made them let go in the second before Dr. Rayne stepped around the tree with an absent greeting on his way to his office.