Magic Moments

by
Sukiblue

Part One

Xander folded his arms and aimed a nasty glare at a certain blond-haired irritation. “This is all your fault, you know.”

Spike removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew smoke directly into Xander’s face. “Fuck off.”

“Gods, Spike, you’re so original. Big bore, that’s what we call you.”

“Is that right? Who’s we? You and your two brain cells?”

“Oh, so you want to talk about intelligence? Who was it that decided to tell a Skuki demon that his daddy likes pink? I believe that was you.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t hear what he said about your mother.”

“I don’t care what he said about my mother. It was probably true. I do care that you got us dragged off into some underground lair.”

Spike shrugged. “Think of it as a change, Xander. A holiday from the normal monotony of patrol.”

Xander stared with wide disbelieving eyes. “A holiday?!” he said with a squeal. “You have got to be kidding me! Some holiday! Do you have any idea how much TV we’re missing?”

“Don’t care.”

“Is that right, Mr Passions-obsessed? What if we’re stuck here for days, huh? What if you miss days of Passions?”

Spike faltered. “…Don’t care,” he said, finally.

Xander huffed and plopped himself down on the cold ground. There was just no way to talk to Spike when he was in one of his stubborn moods.

Spike growled and leant against the opposite wall.

Xander tried to wait out the silence but it was like asking a duck not to quack. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Me?!” Spike asked, completely aghast.

“Yeah, you! You got us into this mess. You can get us out of it.”

“I seem to remember saving your sorry arse and scraping it off the ground not too long ago.”

“I didn’t need you to save me,” Xander sulked.

“Really? Well, you sure as hell would have needed an ambulance if I hadn’t been there. I’ll just let you get garrotted next time, shall I?”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Blessed silence.

“And you know what else?”

“Oh, buggering hell. Here we go.”

“It really fucks me off when you make such a big deal about saving my arse You have to play the big bad hero, don’t you? Can’t just help me out and keep quiet about it, oh no. You have to go brag about it. Make me look like a total loser.”

“Well, you are a total loser.”

“Thanks very much!”

“You're welcome.”

More blessed silence.

“Well, I’ve had enough of you.”

Spike growled again and flicked his cigarette butt at Xander’s head, narrowly but deliberately missing. “Give it a rest, Harris. You’re doing my nut in.”

“Tough. I want you out, Spike.”

“Eh!?”

“Tonight…or whenever we get out of here. I want you to get out of my basement. I can’t live with you for another second.”

“And just where do you expect me to bloody go?”

“I could care less.”

“Right then. If that’s what you want…”

“It is.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!!”

A large blue demon stomped into the alcove and put its hands on its hips.

“Spot spis spoing spon spin spere?”

“It ain’t me, mate. It's jabber chops, here. He won’t bloody shut up!”

The demon cocked a confused head at the strange language and Spike repeated himself in Skuki.

The demon waggled a long-nailed finger. “Spo spar spay spery spirritating spampire spand spe spis spay spery spannoying spuman spith sparge speyes. (You are an irritating vampire and he is a very annoying human with large eyes.)"

Spike nodded. “You’re right about the last part, mate. The annoying thing, not the eyes.”

“Huh? What’s he saying?” Xander asked, nervously.

“Shh, hang on!”

“Spi spam spored. (I am bored.)”

“Right?” Spike said, suspiciously. Skuki demons were famous for being mischievous and Spike was wondering what the hell this one was up to.

“Spo sto sbobvisly spood sbe sbogether. Spi’ll splet spo spgo sput sper spuman spust spave spor sbaby. Spit spill sbe spun sand spi spill spaugh. (You two obviously should be together. I’ll let you go but the human must have your baby. It will be fun and I will laugh.)"

“What?! Eh?! Me an ‘im?! Baby?! You’re off your rocker, mate!!”

“Huh?! What?! I’m not liking the sound of this, Spike!”

“Spobably. Spake spare spof speach spother spand spow spe sper spild spen spit spis sporn. Sponly spen spill spi spomise spot sto spill spo. (Probably. Take care of each other and show me the child when it is born. Only then will I promise not to kill you.)”

“Sodding hell! You wouldn’t!”

“Sponna spet?”

The Skuki demon’s eyes glowed a fiery blue and Xander doubled over and fell to the floor.

Spike’s last thought before he joined the father of his unborn child was: Bloody magic!

Part Two

Xander prised open his eyes and tried to focus.

Stars.

Night sky.

Hmm. Strange. What the hell? Wasn’t I underground a few moments ago?

Let's think.

Skuki demon.

Spike’s big fat mouth.

Underground lair.

Falling over.

“Ouch.”

Spike opened one eye at the gentle exclamation of pain. He opened the other eye and tried to focus.

Stars.

Night sky.

Hmm. Strange. What the fuck? What the bloody hell am I doing outside?

Let's think.

Skuki demon.

Telling Skuki demon a few home truths.

Underground lair.

Some kind of magical…hang on…

“Oh, fuck.”

Xander propped himself up on his elbows and glanced around. “Spike? How did we get back in the woods?”

Spike slowly sat up and turned to face his confused companion. There were no words. Someone had clearly stolen the lot of them.

“Spike? Are you listening to me?”

Spike stared, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. Words, please!

“You have never looked more like a corpse than you do right now,” Xander said with a nasty glare. “Hey, Zombie-Spike, quit it!”

Xander stood and brushed himself down. His head burned with a sudden pain and a quick check revealed a cut just beneath his hairline. “Great. Can I not go anywhere without bleeding? Damn it.”

Xander looked down to where Spike sat still as a statue. If he didn’t move soon, he was going to end up covered in pigeons. “Spike? What the hell is going on…Spike!”

Xander’s louder, more urgent call snapped Spike from his panic-induced paralysis. “Yep, I’m on it. I got it.”

“Huh? I have no doubt that you’re on something, Spike, but can you just pull yourself together so that we can get the hell out of here before that big blue thing comes back?”

Spike stood. “It won’t come back.”

“How do you know?”

Spike hesitated. Was this really the time to casually say: “The big blue thing impregnated you with my child and they won’t be bothering us until the brat is born.”?

Ummmm, nope.

“Skuki wotsit got bored with us. Dropped us off on its way to the pub. It ain’t coming back, now.”

“It might,” Xander insisted.

“What, and miss last orders? Hardly.”

With a naivety that was infuriatingly endearing, Xander bought it.

Spike patted down his duster in search of wonderful, blissful, calming cigarettes. He finally pulled them out with a relieved sigh and popped one in his mouth. He was just about to light it when he had a sudden thought. Fuck! Can’t bloody smoke when Xander’s expectin’.

Spike frowned at the strange sentence his brain had conjured up. He cursed the day that he ever set foot in Sunnydale and lit the cigarette anyway. If ever there was a time that called for a smoke, it was definitely now.

“Spike?”

“Wot?”

“About earlier. You don’t have to move out…yet. I was in a bad mood, what with the Xander and Spike-napping, and you just irritated me more than usual.”

“Might not wanna stay.”

“While I’m one hundred percent certain that you would rather be anywhere other than in my basement, just so you know, you don’t have to move out.”

Spike shrugged. “There’re worse places…I think. Might hang out a while longer. Just to annoy the fuck out of you.”

Xander didn’t look surprised.

The two men walked in silence, one desperate to get home and crawl into bed for a nice cosy dream and the other desperate to wake up in a bed from a not-so-nice cosy dream.

Spike worried. This was really bad. He’d been in some dire situations before but none quite so terrifying as this. A baby? With Xander? This so had to be someone’s twisted idea of a joke. What the hell were they going to do? How the fuck was he going to tell Xander?

Hm Maybe he didn’t have to tell Xander. This was mojo, right? Maybe it could be reversed. Maybe Xander never had to know! Maybe Willow could fix it! That’s it!! Get back home. Wait for Xander to go to bed. Call in on Red.

A plan. Thank all the gods. A bloody good plan. A plan that was going to work.

So why did Spike still feel like throwing up?

Talking of which.

“Do you feel sick?”

“Do I feel sick?” Xander repeated. “Why would I feel sick?”

Spike thought quickly. “From the mojo. It knocked us out, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. No. I feel fine. Do you feel sick?”

“A little,” Spike confessed, his nausea brought on by entirely different reasons.

“Oh. Maybe the mojo hit you worse?”

Spike almost laughed. “Doubt that, pet. I really fucking doubt that.”

Part Three

Spike pounded on the door and waited.

What the hell is Willow going to say?

What if she can’t fix this?

What if she hits me with a shovel?

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

Fuck it.

Spike turned to leave just as the door creaked open and a mop of messy red hair peered through the opening.

“Spike? What are you doing here?” a bleary voice asked as she opened the door wider.

“Erm…nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“I see.”

“Right, then. Now that’s all sorted, I’ll be off.”

“…Okay?”

“Right.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up? And don’t say ‘nothing’.”

Spike opened his mouth. The urge to say ‘nothing’ burned like the desire to make puppy soup on a cold winter's day. He closed his mouth again and pulled out his cigarettes. “Not much.”

Willow glared. “So why are you here?”

“Can’t a bored vamp call on his friends in the middle of the night, no-more?”

“What are you up to? Is it Xander? Have you gotten him into trouble?”

Spike fought the urge to laugh hysterically. “No,” he finally managed.

“Then what is it?”

“…Milk.”

“Milk?”

“Yeah. We ran out. I drank it all. Wondered if you had some spare. Harris will do his nut if he can’t have his Frosties, first thing.”

“Is that really all?”

“Course.”

Willow rolled her eyes and trudged back into the house. “Milk. Wakes me up for milk. Damn vampire,” she mumbled.

Fuck it. Can’t tell her. She’ll bloody curse me and shrink my bits and bobs. Can’t have that. Fuck it.

Who else could help? Tara? Hmm, maybe. Could at least use her as a full body shield if Willow found out. Course, bloody Glinda would probably grass me up.

“There you are.”

“Cheers, luv.”

“Tell Xander that I’ll be calling him in the morning, just in case.”

A small trickle of panic fluttered inside Spike’s belly. “Right. I’ll tell him. Night, then.”

Spike walked away from the house and bit back the urge to rush back, pound on the closing door, fall to his knees and beg for help.

No.

That way only led to evisceration.

Shit. Now what? Just tell Xander? No, no, no, no. He’ll be so mad. Need a buffer. Need some information, at least. A way out. Need to give Xander some sort of hope or I’ll get my arse kicked, royally.

Who else can I ask? Tara isn’t an option. Buffy? No fucking way. Besides the fact that she’d poke my heart out with the nearest pencil, the bint’s bloody useless at the mojo stuff. Giles? Shit, Maybe. He might understand better than the girls. He’d understand how Xander feels. He might be able to stop this before it starts. Xander would never have to know. And if he can’t stop it…at least he would look into it without bloody giggling. But…maybe I should tell Xander first…should I?

Spike paused in the middle of the road. One way led to Xander’s and the other to the Watcher’s place.

Giles it is, then. No, I’ll tell Xander and let him decide what to do…No, I’ll get my backside kicked. I’ll go see Giles first. Get some info, undo the spell if we can…No, that would be going behind Xander’s back. I’ll go tell Xander. But what if he…cries? Not sure I could deal with that. I’ll go get the Watcher… No…

Spike screamed up at the sky. “FUUUUUCK!”

Hmm, I feel a little better. A good loud curse always clears the brain. Right. To Giles’ it is!

~Bang, bang~

~grumble, mumble~

~Creak~

“Good Lord, Spike. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Actually, no. Ain’t got a watch.”

Giles sighed. “Whatever do you want?”

“Got a teeny, tiny problem,” Spike said casually, pinching his thumb and forefinger together to show just how teeny, tiny the problem really was.

“I’m sure I’m not going to want to hear this but, do go on.”

“Me and Harris got hit by some major mojo.”

Giles’ eyes widened with growing concerned. “Is Xander…”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s alright…sorta. See, the mojo kind of left us with a bit of a problem.”

“And what’s that?”

“It put a bun in Xander’s oven.”

“Good Lord! That is most strange…I thought Xander only had a hot-plate.”

“Eh?! No, you bloody idiot! It knocked him up!”

“Oh dear! Was he hurt badly? Xander’s taken quite a few knocks in his time. He has an astonishingly hard head, but one of these days…”

“No! For fucks sake! Are you even awake?!”

“As a matter of fact, no, I am most definitely still half asleep. And I would still be fully asleep if it wasn’t for you standing on my doorstep spouting all sorts of notions about bread products and Xander’s latest attempt to make himself black and blue all over.”

“Listen, you pompous git. Me and Xander got caught by this bloody great blue freak of a demon and it cast a spell on us. The spell has made Xander pregnant. And somehow, fuck knows how, but somehow, the child is mine. Got it, now? Want a bloody diagram?”

Giles gaped and reached up to take off his glasses. Those lenses must be due for a damn good polishing. Finding that he wasn’t wearing his glasses, the time felt right for a small panic.

“Whoa, breathe, Watcher, for crying out loud!”

“I-I-I must sit…No! I’ll stand…No, sit…No!”

“Bloody hell, a lot of use you are.”

“Quite right. Quite right. I must collect myself.” Giles had a quick think. “Can I assume as there is a lack of Xander on my doorstep, that he doesn’t know?”

“You can assume that, yeah.”

“Oh dear.”

“So, got any ideas?”

“Well, taking into account the current situation and my experience with this type of magical spell…no, I haven’t got a bloody clue.”

Spike was the glummest vampire in all of Sunnydale.

Part Four

“There’s got to be something that we can do. Spell? Charm? Can we reverse it? Wouldn’t the Skuki demon know? ‘Cos I’m more than happy to hunt the bloody thing down and drag it’s worthless, bastard backside back here. I could beat it ‘til it cracks!”

“Spike…”

“Yeah, drag it by its scraggy neck. I bet a few railway spikes in the arse would soon get it talking.”

“Spike…”

“Let’s see how it likes to have its innards interfered with.”

“Spike…”

“I could make its intestines into a skipping rope. Skippity fucking hop.”

“I don’t believe they have intestines.”

“No? What they got instead, then?”

“Goodness knows. A length of liquorish, perhaps? Look, Spike…”

“Alright, then. It’s got eyes, big fucking beady ones. I’ll scoop them out with a warm spoon and impale them on a fork. Make a fucking tasty lollipop.”

“Spike, I really think…”

“Brain!”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll slice its head open and tug its tiny brain out! Mmmm, brain soup. Brain soup? Isn’t that in a song? Yeah, The Cramps, Surfin’ Dead. Return of The Living Dead soundtrack. Love that film. Pure genius.”

“Bugger me! Will you just shut up for one damn second?!”

Spike plopped down on the couch. “Only trying to help,” he said in a sulky voice.

“Yes, well. Quite. Spike, this is a very serious situation. Skuki demon magic is well known for being extremely hard to reverse. We’ll need to do some serious research if we are going to help Xander.”

“And me! I need help an’ all, you know! Nine months time and Xander bleedin’ Harris is gonna drop my sprog! I think that means that I’m also in dire need of some bloody help!”

“Yes, of course. My apologies.”

“What do we do first then? Got any…books?”

“I have plenty of books, yes, thank you. Unfortunately we will probably need a small army to find what we need, if it even exists.”

“You leading up to something?”

“Yes. We will need to get everyone together. Willow especially would be a great help, indeed.”

“Right. So we have to tell them.”

“I’m afraid so. And it also means that you need to tell Xander.”

“Bloody hell! He’s going to love this.”

“Don’t worry…”

“Don’t worry?! Easy for you to say. You ain’t in the bloody firing line, are you?!”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, I don’t think this was your fault and I’m sure that, over time, Xander will realise that.”

“You think?”

“Yes.”

“Would that be before or after the disembowelment?”

“Spike, you must understand that this will be most alarming for Xander. He’s bound to get a little edgy. And I don’t think you have helped matters by coming to see me behind his back. You really should have spoken to him first.”

Spike chewed on a polished fingernail. This was going to take some real deep thought. Options to consider. Last hour to backtrack. Alternate routes that could have been taken, to mull over. Time to knuckle down, be sensible and really think about what happened. “Oh, bugger.”

“I believe that was the correct response, yes.”

“I've fucked this up already, haven’t I? Shit. He’s gonna be so mad. Should have spoken to him first. Bollocks.”

Giles nodded and sighed. “I suggest you bring him here and tell him. Perhaps you can use the sofa for cover.”

“Yeah. Good idea. You can calm him down, right?”

Giles wasn’t confident. “I can try. Although I’m willing to place a bet that Slayer strength will be needed.”

“Should have told him first,” Spike said under his breath.

“Bring him here. I can only try to…”

Spike bounced up from the couch. “I’ve got it!”

Giles sat down. “Oh, dear Lord,” he said, dropping his head in his hands.

“We could pretend that I was never here! Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s all so clear. I’ll pretend that I was never here. I’ll go tell Xan that he’s up the duff, bring him here, break the bad news to you, you act all surprised and then we get to work with the research!”

“Spike…”

“Yeah! Bloody brilliant plan! See, that’s why I’m a Master. It’s all in the brains.”

“Spike…”

“He’ll never know. He can get all upset…oh, with me. I’m still gonna get the blame. Not so good. Now how am I going to get around that?”

“Spike…”

“I got it!!”

“Oh, dear Lord.”

“I’ll tell him it’s fatal! That way he’ll be whining about how he’s too young to die and I can drag him here for you to tell him that it’ll be okay, he’ll live and we can start the research right away!”

“Now that would just be cruel. Don’t you dare…”

“Oh, bloody hell, alright. I’ll tell him it could be fatal. Better?”

“Well, actually, no…”

“Good. Back in jiffy.”

“Spike…”

“Oh, and stick the kettle on. I’m dying for a brew.”

Spike had a plan.

Spike was happy.

Spike was certain that Giles would sort out the little ‘problem’.

Spike was the happiest vampire in all of Sunnydale.

Spike had a shock coming.

Part Five

“Oi.”

Giant, red, monster Mug.

“Huh?”

“Coffee.”

Closer inspection. Ordinary mug.

“…huh?”

“I made you coffee.”

Xander rubbed his eyes, shuffled into a sitting position and took the mug that had been ungraciously shoved in his face. “Um, thank you?” Xander said with more than a little suspicion in his voice.

“Welcome.”

“Why is the morning so dark?”

Spike shrugged. “That’s mornings for you.”

Xander looked over at the bedside clock. “Spike, it’s three in the morning.”

“Yeah, so? It’s still morning.”

Xander stared into the murky coffee and sighed in resignation. “Did you break the shower again? 'Cos, if you did, I am not getting up to fix it now. You’ll just have to stay dirty.”

“I didn’t break the shower! It weren’t me that broke it the last time!”

“No, of course not. It was the shower pixies, summoned by a band of greedy, demonic plumbers.”

“I didn’t. Break. The shower.”

“Right. Okay, then, money. You woke me at three in the morning for money? Couldn’t you have just stolen it like you usually do?”

“I don’t steal!”

“Oh, you so do.”

“I bloody don’t!”

“Spike, I’m always at least twenty bucks short.”

“Must have a hole in your pocket, then. Either that or you need to learn how to count. Didn’t they teach you arithmetic in school? Bring back the abacus, that’s what I say.”

Xander sighed again and gave up on the argument. He sipped at the hot coffee and spat it straight back out. “Euw, what did you make this with? You know you’re supposed to use actual coffee, right?”

“I did use coffee! It ain’t my fault you've got shit taste buds.”

“There is nothing wrong with my taste buds, thank you very much. My taste in roommates, now, that’s a whole other matter.”

Spike opened his mouth to make a tried and tested derogatory comment. A look that could slaughter a thousand cows snapped his jaw shut tight.

“Just tell me why I’m awake at three in the morning. And don’t even think about lying. Just remember, you chipped, me not.”

“Right. Need to tell you something…”

Long pause.

“Yeah, I’m waiting!”

“Hold your horses, for fuck's sake. I gotta get this right.” Yeah, I’d better get it right. Xander’s got hot coffee and he’s not afraid to use it. Damn it! I should have thought twice about that gesture. Bollocks. Right. Just tell him the truth, don’t make it sound like it’s your fault and tell him it might be fatal. Yeah. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. “Err, remember the Skuki demon?”

“How could I forget? Scary demon. You know, call me crazy, but I swear it was checking us out, you know, in that way. It definitely kept looking at your ass.”

“Yeah, actually, just before I gobbed off…erm, I mean, just before it grabbed us, I heard it say something about your chocolate orbs. Not entirely sure what it meant by that, though. I’m assuming it meant your eyes, but Skuki’s do have a sort of x-ray vision. It could have been talking about your…”

Xander quickly cut in with a fake chuckle. “Anyway! You had something to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah, well, you see.” Spike shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “You see…It’s like this…Err…”

“Are going to tell me anytime this year or shall I just get some shut-eye while you paraphrase all night?”

“Hang on, hang on. I’m getting to it.” Spike cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “The Skuki put the mojo on us and it sprogged you up with my nipper.”

~blink~

“I don’t suppose you could put that into American for me, could you?”

“The demon made you pregnant and apparently the kid is mine.”

~blink~

“Um…”

Spike suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and it might be fatal!!” he said quickly. It fell on deaf ears. Apparently Xander had only listened up to the word ‘pregnant’. Anything after that was as meaningless as an infomercial featuring felt umbrellas. Damn, should have mentioned it first!

Spike glanced at his watch and opened a bag of chips. Three-thirty-five.

Xander stared at the wall and remained as silent as a depressed rabbit that had recently died.

Spike glanced at his watch and opened another bag of chips. Three-fifty-five.

Xander stared at the wall. Depressed, dead rabbit? Still present and correct.

Spike put his feet up, glanced at his watch and silently moaned that there weren’t enough chips in the house. Four-twenty.

Xander stared at the wall. Depressed, dead rabbit? It decomposed some time ago.

Spike got off his arse and cautiously approached a rigid-with-god-knows-what Xander. If only he had some chips to lure the human back to life with.

Xander stared at the wall. The wascally wabbit had a family. They were also dead. Ten-bunny pile up on the freeway, apparently. The funeral had been pleasant. The wake was very quiet.

“Err, about was I said, about the fatal thing. That might not be exactly true. Not that you were probably listening at that point, but just in case you were, I may have made that bit up.”

Xander stared at the wall. The funny thing about rabbits is that, generally, they don’t say a lot, even when alive. The rabbit had a long lost, living cousin. He was particularly quiet. He went on to live a long happy life and spawned many, many other very quiet rabbits

Spike sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at his watch. Ten-past-five. “Xan? You alright? Don’t take it to heart, pet. We’ll sort it out. I’ll take you to see Giles. He’ll figure it out. Xan? You listening?”

Xander turned slowly to face Spike. “P-Pregnant?”

“Well…yes, technically. But don’t think of it like that. Think of it as a nasty spell that just needs a bit of fixing.”

“Fixing? Like a sandwich,” Xander said to himself. “Give me chips.”

“Chips? Oh, you mean crisps. Err, we haven’t got any…more.”

“No chips. I’ll get some,” Xander said with a determined nod.

Spike played along. “Right. I’ll come with you. We’ll take a nice little trip to see Giles while we’re at it. You like Giles. We’ll hide his glasses again. You like that game, don’t you?”

Xander nodded and threw back the covers. Crazy, la-la land took a hike and reality crashed down like an anvil on a bug-eyed coyote. Xander screamed. “OHMYGOD!”

Spike tried to comfort. It was very difficult when you were an evil, uncaring, unsympathetic, bloody-minded, stubborn, selfish and devastatingly handsome creature of the night. “There, there, pet. Just sank in, did it? Not to worry, Ol’ Spike will fix…it….Whatthefuckisthat?!”

Xander pulled up his t-shirt and ran a shaking hand over his stomach. “Why is it all big and round?! Do you think it was the pizza? I guess it was a couple of days old. But it’s never done this before!”

“Bloody hell, you really are a clot-brain! That ain’t the work of an evil, two-day-old pizza!”

“Not helping, Spike! Freaking out, here!” Xander jumped. “Ohmygod.”

“What? What is it?! It didn’t…Did it kick?”

“No.”

“Then what?!”

Xander grabbed hold of Spike’s arm for support. “I think…I think I’m having a craving.”

“Jesus, fuck me bloody!”