Something Rich and Strange
by
Tabaqui
10 Payback
Spike stepped out onto the front porch of the house and
simply stood there for a moment, breathing in the night air and trying to
contain the screaming, frenzied demon that was scrabbling and howling inside
him for control. The demon wanted to run through the streets; smash windows,
destroy walls, set fire to the city. Drink until he was as warm as a living
man and pull the heart from every human it met. Spike wanted something else.
He began to walk - then run - heading straight into Sunnydale proper, searching.
As he neared the UCS campus, he found what he was looking for. A college
student stood on the sidewalk, fumbling drunkenly with a helmet. Parked beside
him in the street was a motorcycle - one of the low-slung racing types that
seemed to be all the rage for some rich boys. It was painted an unappealing
mustard-yellow but Spike knew its top speed was somewhere above 150, and that's
what he wanted - needed. Speed. He bounded up the sidewalk and
snatched the helmet from the boy, hurling it away with enough force to crack it
in two as it struck a light pole. The boy gaped - drew in a breath to scream
as the demon emerged and lunged.
Then Spike was drinking, drinking; the hot jet of arterial blood
near-scalding on the back of his throat. The boy flailed at him, writhing, and
Spike clamped down tighter, his fingers sinking into the boy's arms so deeply
that bones cracked. The blood surged through him, laced with alcohol - sharp
and heady with fear. The familiar, wanton heat of it - the tingling wave that
rushed over him - was intoxicating, dizzying. A feeling at once both
remembered and shockingly new. Spike groaned deep in his throat, arousal
pounding through him. This was heat - freedom - life; delicious and
heady. He pulled hard, forcing the last mouthfuls to come to him, listening as
the ta-tum of the heart stuttered - faded altogether. He wrenched his
fangs from the boy's throat and roared to the night sky, sending echoes rolling
up and down the street. He snapped the boy's neck with an easy twist of his
hands and then frisked the body for keys and wallet. He found he was grinning
maniacally - couldn't, in fact, stop himself.
He did it, he did it, Xander-love, you did it...brought
me back, gave me back...everything. Everything. Love you, pet. Love you for
it
Spike straddled the bike, glancing swiftly at unfamiliar
controls, learning them. He put the key in the ignition and started the bike.
The surging growl made him laugh out loud and he gunned it away from the curb,
heading out. Heading towards Highway 101. Towards a place to feed and regain
his full strength without interruption; to hone skills that had gotten a tad
rusty, of late. To deal out a little payback. He grinned savagely, hurling
himself forward into the night. The air was a solid wall to lean into, the
roar of the bike lost behind him as he pushed it to its top speed. The highway
stretched before him, silver-grey, broad and beckoning, and he remembered what
Jack had said.
”I'm for the bonny road, me.” He laughed again.
The bonny road was not for him. No, for him it was something else.
"And see ye not yon braid, braid road, That lies
across the lily leven?
That is the Path of Wickedness, Though some call it the
Road to Heaven..."
The bike surged under him, as vital as a lover, and he
crouched over it and flew forward into the night.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Xander finished telling Oz his story.
Oz looked up from his fingers, and smiled up at Xander. "That's
pretty cool," he said. And that was all. A few minutes later, Oz changed
and curled himself into the corner of the couch, nose to tail, sighing heavily
into sleep. Xander just laughed, not really expecting a scene from Oz, but
surprised nonetheless at the utter calm.
Maybe that's all to the good, though. Couldn't really
take a scene right now Xander took a shower and cleaned up a little and
waited. He lay down in bed and stared at the ceiling and when his alarm woke him
two hours later he was alone and the sun was coming up, and Spike wasn't
there. Xander felt the first twist of fear in his belly, and he fought it.
Work was a daze, and the ritual of paycheck and weekend plans passed him by, an
inconsequential murmur that couldn't break through the tumbling, frantic
thoughts in his head. Even Manny asked if he was alright and Xander barely managed
to be coherent enough to satisfy the old demon. But inside he was babbling,
and the fear was getting worse.
What if he ran into Buffy, out on patrol, and couldn't
resist? What if she... What if he got captured by the Initiative again?
They're even hotter to capture and kill now that Professor Walsh is dead...
What if he just - left? Went to find Dru -
Doesn't want her. Wants us. Wants pack
But we're not...I'm not...what if I'm not enough?
Don't panic, Harris. It's only one night. One day.
And don't you think we'd know if he were dead, or...? Remember feeling his
pain?
He got home and went through his routine of shower and
dinner, barely aware of Oz. The werewolf said almost nothing, watching him
with dark and speculative eyes. When the sun was gone and Xander was sitting
silent in the blackness of the kitchen, Oz lit candles and then slipped away,
wolf again. Xander knew Oz was looking for Spike, but he couldn't rouse
himself to even say thank you. He went to bed, and the shivery fear came back
again and again, waking him with formless, forgotten dreams.
No work the next
day and he found himself pacing his house, too restless to sit, or talk to Oz.
Too scared to think. Oz made a dinner Xander could barely force past his
teeth, and when Oz went out again, tail tucked, Xander thought it was with a
certain relief.
This time Xander forced himself to get up, do a few things;
laundry, cleaning. He sanded smooth the gouges Spike's nails had made in the
table, running his fingers over and over them. He thought about changing the
sheets - sweat and sex and wolf hairs - but couldn't bear to lose the scent of
Spike that the cotton still held. In the end he simply curled up in
the middle of the bed, pulling the covers around him, burrowing into Spike's
pillow and biting his lip until it bled in an effort not to cry. Won't do
that. Won't. That would be...saying he's really gone, and he isn't, so I
won't, I won't
Sunday, it turned out, they had to go to Giles' house. Oz
wanted to talk to Willow - he'd put it off too long, he said, and owed her an
explanation. So they went and Xander sat on Giles' couch and listened to Giles
brief them on the 'situation'. Faith had come and gone, trying some sort of
body-switch with Buffy that Tara had helped to foil. Professor Walsh's
experiment now had a name - Adam - and it was lurking, killing people,
recruiting possibly. Or maybe just hiding. Buffy had gone to LA to warn Angel
about Faith. And Riley had finally moved into an apartment, still reeling from
the discoveries surrounding Maggie's death. Still recovering from being
drugged.
Wow. Missed a lot. Now will Buffy finally get the hell
out of bed with these damn soldiers? Look what they've done - some kind of
Frankentronic creature roaming around...drugging their own men... Please tell
me we're not on 'their' side anymore... He listened to Oz explain in
his soft voice why he had left with Xander and Spike - why he was staying at
Xander's house. Listened to Anya ask him if he wanted a soda, listened to
Willow babble out hurt and guilt and love and sorrow like an upended cup,
pouring over them all. He heard Willow finally admit that she and Tara were
together. Giles started a bit, but Oz only smiled and Xander wondered if he'd
ever be able to tell Willow about Spike. If Giles would smile at them and
murmur 'very nice' for Xander and Spike.
Not in this lifetime, Harris. Wishful thinking
Maybe. But he's smart...he...if I told him about Jack,
he'd...
Think you were possessed again. Or under some thrall.
Give it up, Harris.
Shut up. Miss him...miss him... He jumped a
little when Tara sat down next to him, putting her hand lightly on his wrist.
"A-are you okay, X-xander?" she asked, and he
mustered up a wane smile for her.
"Sure Tara. Guess you saved the day, doing that
aura-thing with Faith, huh? Good for you." Tara blushed, looking pleased
and flustered, and Xander smiled at her for real this time, feeling the stirrings
of affection for this shy, powerful girl. He'd looked at her, the day
after the Gentlemen had been destroyed, and had seen a soul that was radiant,
powerful, and utterly without guile. Her power came from the earth and he
could see how gentle - and how fierce - she could be. A true 'earth mother'.
"You're...m-mmissing someone, Xander. I can s-see that
in your aura. Spike isn't h-here, is he?"
Xander stared at her, incredulous, then looked quickly down
at his hands, which were clenched tightly on his knees.
Get a grip, Harris. Calm down or she'll know
everything!
She wouldn't...say anything...
You can't know that! This is need-to-know, soldier!
I think she already knows
Pack. No harm, the hyena insisted, and Xander
looked back up at her; saw the sweetest smile on her face, that faded under his
frightened stare.
"Tara - I don't...I'm not...Spike..." He trailed
off helplessly, flinching a little from the silent tirade of protest and
invective the soldier was hurling at him.
"I-it's okay, Xander. I w-won't tell anybody.
I...s-saw you two th-that night, outside of L-llowel House." Xander
groaned, shutting his eyes.
Fuck! We should have been more careful, should have…
"Your a-auras were really...you l-looked right t-together,
Xander. I th-think it's okay, y-you two."
Xander just stared at her, and then he reached out and
grasped her hand, startling her. "Tara - thank you. I - Spike
is..." He shook his head and smiled. "Just, thanks. I'm...glad you
know. And please don't say anything. I think - it's not a good time for
earth-shattering announcements, you know?"
"I n-know. I won't say an-anything. I'm happy for you
- both of you. You make each other h-happy."
"Yeah. We do." Xander gave a last, light squeeze
to her hand and then let her go, and she got up and unobtrusively made her way
back to Willow, who had finally stopped babbling at Oz and was hugging him.
Oz's eyes were black over her shoulder, and he broke away gently but firmly,
retreating. Giles watched him with concern, idly stroking the cover of a book.
"I really need to go now, Willow. I'll be around. I
can help with this - Adam thing, probably. Anything to get the Initiative out
of Sunnydale. We'll talk, just not... I'll be around, ok, Willow?" Oz
was uncomfortable, but Willow didn't seem to notice and she nodded, wiping her
eyes, smiling gratefully at Tara as the blonde took her hand.
"Okay Oz. I'm - glad
you're back. Really I am. And we're - we're all glad you've decided to help
us. Right, Giles? Always good to have one more on the team."
"Yes - yes it is." Giles stepped up to Oz and
offered his hand, and Oz shook it solemnly. "When we get more information
about this 'Adam', we'll call you and Xander. All right?"
"Sure, Giles. Sounds good." Xander stood up and
went over to Oz, cocking an eyebrow, and Oz nodded.
"We're gonna go on home, then. I guess - call me when
Buffy gets back, tell me if anything...new is happening," Xander said.
They said their goodbyes, and Xander and Oz left. Halfway back home, driving
on autopilot, Xander jumped a little when Oz spoke.
"So...Tara knows. About you and Spike."
"Y-yeah. How'd you..."
"I could hear her."
"Oh." Xander laughed shakily. "Gotta get
used to all these people with super-powers around me." Oz smiled -
touched Xander's shoulder fleetingly with his hand. Xander glanced over at his
calm profile - at the hair he'd re-hennaed the day before to a deep, rich
auburn that glowed in the gilding light of the setting sun. "How do you
feel about - everything? Spike. That whole thing with...Jack."
"You mean, how do I feel now that William the Bloody is
back?" Oz's voice was level but the look he shot Xander was full of some
emotion and Xander flinched a little.
"Yeah. I mean - I guess you're ok with the concept of
me and Spike. But...do you think...I should have left that whole chip thing
alone?"
Oz sighed, bringing one foot up onto the seat of the truck
and putting his chin on his knee, fingers absently toying with an ankle-bracelet
of leather and glass beads. "You're right - you and Spike as a couple,
two guys - that doesn't bother me. Me and Devon go back a long way and -
we've always been...close." Oz studied his nails for a moment - chipped
blue polish instead of black - and Xander felt a little clutch of longing that
almost cancelled out the shock of what Oz had just said.
"You and...Devon? Really? But he's always got
those...groupies."
Oz laughed. "Yeah. He's not...well, let's just say
that Devon thinks monogamy is okay if you practice it serially." Xander
laughed, too, but then Oz's smile faded and he knew that he might not like what
came next. "As for Jack - that whole scene. I mean - wow. Gotta say he
gave you something really cool. I'd like to see what you see, sometime.
That'd be..." Oz shook his head, and pulled his other leg up, wrapping
his arms around his shins. "And...what he did for Spike...I can't say I'm
surprised that you asked. You love him. You want to - take care of him. And
he was hurting. I understand that. I dunno what Spike'll do. I hope he's
like you say. I hope he'll come back and not...kill us all. But that isn't
anything we can really know, is it? 'Cause, people are complex, and he's got a
person and a demon to deal with..." Oz rubbed his chin on his
knees, thinking. "I don't blame you for wanting to help him. The
Initiative was all about power. And what they did to him was...vindictive.
Like taking a tiger and pulling out all its teeth and claws and then letting it
loose. I want them to go down as badly as Spike does." Oz shifted a
little, looking over at Xander, and Xander just drove, amazed at the words that
had poured out of him.
"I don't think I've ever heard you talk that much at
one time." Xander said finally, and Oz just grinned at him.
"I want it to work, Xander. Just like you do. But
it's kind of a wait and see thing, you know? If he's - okay with us, then
that's cool. If he's not...you know I won't let him hurt Willow - any of
them."
"Yeah. I know. But when I look at him - really
look - what I see - what I feel is so strong. He's nothing like the
vamps we dust out on patrol, Oz. He's so different. I just...I trust
him."
"Trust is nice." There was a long silence, and Oz
looked out the window for a minute - looked back. "He'll be back,
Xander."
"Yeah. Thanks, Oz." Oz just shrugged, smiling a
little, and reached to turn on the radio. "Are you - okay, Oz? I mean,
everything that happened...how are you?" Oz fiddled with the radio,
finally getting some kind of acoustic NPR-type thing, and settled back in the
seat.
"I guess I'm okay Xander. I really want to put the
Initiative in the ground. I learned some meditation, in Tibet? It helps
keeps the wolf...at bay. It keeps the Initiative at bay, too." Oz's eyes
were clear and steady and calm and the lack of emotion more than anything clued
Xander in.
Somebody else with nightmares. Fucking bastards "You'll
- tell me if you need...anything. Right?"
"Yeah. I will." Oz grinned at him, and they drove
the rest of the way home in companionable silence.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Monday morning, waking up alone, Xander felt the depression
coming back. Oz slept in a loose curl of brown and russet fur on the couch.
He'd said that the lumps didn't bother the wolf so much. Xander was glad he
was there, if only because it gave him something to focus on.
Gotta be quiet, don't wake him. Wonder if he'd like to
try some kind of chicken for dinner or if we should just fall back on pizza?
Remember to get more laundry soap, we're almost out... Xander managed to
make it through the day and felt something like relief, going home. He was
looking forward to seeing Oz - just talking a little, maybe, or listening to Oz
play his guitar. Something to distract him. He'd trusted Spike not to kill
his friends - and he hadn't. But Spike being gone - made him second-guess
everything he'd done. All his reasons seemed - faulty, now. Putting his trust
in a vampire just seemed stupid. Even one with a soul. Look at Angel, for
god's sake. But then he'd think about Spike in bed with him - Spike standing
in the glowing corona of his souls, love and need and desire and tenderness
flowing out from him. Spike aching with loss over Drusilla and Spike looking
him in the eye and telling Xander he was loved. And the trust was there again,
just like that. And that only made that void of not-Spike worse, and deeper,
and darker.
He parked his truck and got out, stretching, hauling his tool belt
and laundry soap out of the seat. At the door he paused and got a sheaf of
mail out of the box attached to the front wall and carried it inside. He
dumped soap and tool belt on the kitchen floor, tossed the mail down and got a
cold soda before he slumped gratefully into a chair. They'd all had to pitch
in and do some heavy lifting today, cleaning up part of the site so that the
buyers could see it. Putting in finishing touches. Xander was sore and
tired, but proud of how well his crew had worked - and that Manny had put it
all in his hands, no questions asked. Oz came out of the back of the
house, a pile of shirts in his hands. "Hey, Xander," he said, and
Xander waved at him, gulping soda.
"Oz. I'm just gonna get pizza, okay? I'm so worn out
I can't even think about experimental cooking."
"Fine with me." Oz lay the shirts on the table
and started folding them and Xander picked up the mail, shuffling through it.
Bill. Bill. Junk. Previous occupant. Any
occupant. Oh good, bras and panties are on sale... He flipped past yet
another gaudily-colored circular and then froze. He went back to the piece of
mail, heart pounding. It was a postcard, slightly crumpled around the edges.
On it in one corner was a scallop shell, with a bright red strawberry
superimposed over it. And the words 'Oxnard - California's
Strawberry Coast'. Underneath was a view of
the Channel Islands Harbor at sunset - Xander recognized it. He and Thomas had
strolled there once hand in hand, watching the gulls. Mouth suddenly dry,
Xander turned the postcard over. On the other side were four or five lines in
the beautiful 'birthday card' script that was Spike's. Xander blinked, his
eyes refusing to focus. Then finally, he read the words there.
"As a perfume doth remain
In the folds where it hath lain,
So the thought of you, remaining
Deeply folded in my brain,
Will not leave me; all things leave me;
You remain."
His heart did a peculiar little extra thump, and he took a
deep, deep breath. Oh god, oh...god... He's alive, he's...in fucking Oxnard,
what the fuck? But he's alive...
"You all right, Xander?" Xander blinked,
focusing, and looked up at Oz, who was staring at him, frowning just a little.
"Xander?"
"Yeah. Uh. I'm - I'm fine, Oz. It's..." He
couldn't think of what to say, so he shoved the postcard at Oz. He noticed
that his hand was shaking. Oz took the postcard and looked at the front and
'humfed', so much like the wolf that Xander felt a hysterical little giggle
rising up into his throat. He choked it back and took a hasty swig of soda.
Oz turned the postcard over and glanced at Xander for
permission, then read it. A slow smile drew up the corners of his mouth, and
he handed the card back. "That's nice. I guess that's from Spike?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is. From Spike." Xander realized
he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care.
"Why Oxnard?" Oz asked, folding his last shirt.
"I dunno. I was down there, last summer... Oh."
Xander sat bolt upright, a sudden thought coming to him. Oh no. He
wouldn't. I mean...would he? I told him the story and he...oh fuck
"I think maybe... I dunno."
Oz gave him a searching look, as if he
thought Xander knew more, but then he nodded and wandered away with his shirts,
putting them in the open duffle that had become a permanent fixture in the
living room. He'd refused to let Xander clean out a drawer for him - Xander's
dresser was pretty small and he really didn't have a place to put any stuff he
moved. Oz just told him it was fine and that in Tibet he'd only had two shirts
and one pair of pants so this was really like the Ritz, and he didn't mind.
Xander sat at the table and read his postcard over and over,
forgetting how tired he was and how hungry. He barely noticed Oz ordering
pizza - turning on the radio.
God, Spike's down in Oxnard, he's…
Hunting the hyena grumbled, and Xander knew it was
so. Spike was hunting. He finally noticed the music playing, and he realized
that it was almost dark and the food was there and he was starved. The song
played on and the chorus made Xander shiver.
"And I find it kind of funny... I find it kind of
sad...
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever
had... "
He got up, and got another soda for himself and one for Oz,
and was glad when the song ended.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
The next day he got two postcards. Maybe he mailed one
on Sunday. Spike...come back,love...
The second was something that seemed
vaguely familiar. He was pretty sure he'd read it in school, but so much had
taken precedence over studying - saving the world from certain doom and all
that - that it was only a fleeting thought.
"Wild Nights! Wild Nights! were I with thee
Wild Nights would be our luxury.
Futile the winds to a heart in port, Gone with the compass
Gone with the chart--Rowing in Eden.
Ah the Sea! Might I but moor-- Tonight in thee."
The third was as unfamiliar as the first, but it ached with
the same loneliness that Xander felt.
"Western wind, when wilt thou blow,
The small rain down can rain?
Christ, if my love were in my arms
And I in my bed again! "
The same, the same for me... Please, whatever you're
doing up there - what I know you're doing - don't, don't, just leave it
and come home... A couple of times during the long days that
Spike was gone, Xander thought he was going crazy. He'd wake up in the night
certain he'd heard Spike's voice - felt him, right there in the bed with him.
But always it was just a dream...or wishful thinking. Once, at work, he'd
suddenly started upright from the two-by-sixes he was nailing, fear washing
over him - certain Spike had cried out his name. But he blinked at the sun
pouring down over him, and the hive-like bustle of the site, and knew it wasn't
Spike. At least, it wasn't Spike there...it was as if...
As if he's in my head - like I'm hearing him. Really
must be crazy. Unless it's some kind of freaky vampire thing. I think I need
to check out some of Giles' books. Won't that be fun
Wednesday's postcard was Iggy Pop from that movie, and it
made Xander grin all night. Thursday was something amazing and unfamiliar
again, and Xander wondered how Spike could possibly remember so much stuff
when he couldn't, apparently, remember to rinse blood out of his own mug or
wipe his boots off. The Selective Memory of the Evil Undead: Theories and
a Case Study Xander thought, and snickered over his carry-out curried
chicken.
"The incredible beauty of joy
Stars with fire the joining of lips, O let our loves too
Be joined, there is not a maiden
Burns and thirsts for love
More than my blood for you, by the shore of seals while the wings
Weave like a web in the air
Divinely superfluous beauty. "
Oz thought he recognized that one. Something about the
style - the subject - made him think he knew it and Xander was startled out of
a daze while not-really-watching a 'Law and Order' re-run by Oz smacking his
hand on his knee and saying :
"Robinson Jeffers!" with this huge smile on his
face.
"What?"
"The postcard today. It's Robinson Jeffers. He lived
up in Carmel. Cool. I wonder how Spike knows his stuff? Doesn't seem
like...evil undead poetry to me."
"And you'd be the expert on evil undead poetry?"
Xander grinned at him and they had a very...different sort of
discussion. All about the kind of poetry vampires should like, as
opposed to what Spike, apparently, did like. Xander didn't actually
know a lot of poetry but Oz did. Because, Oz said, it helped him to
write songs when he got into the cadences and word pictures of poetry. He even
quoted a little for Xander and it made Xander feel a little stupid, and a
little excited at the same time. Xander wanted to know poetry, too - to know
who Robinson Jeffers or Oscar Wilde or Ezra Pound were. He decided to go to
the library the next day.
Friday's postcard somehow brought tears to Xander's eyes.
He didn't know why, particularly, and he wiped his eyes roughly while Oz poured
a glass of milk and they settled to a rather haphazard dinner of cereal and
toast.
Gotta go to the store tonight. Spike in the changing
room...maybe we'll go to a different store...
"But if you ever come to a road where danger
Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share.
Be good to the lad who loves you true,
And the soul that was born to die for you,
And whistle and I'll be there…"
They ended up going to the same store and Xander felt the
depression settle on him again, as he remembered that night and the nights that
followed. It hadn't been that long - only four months, almost five, since
Spike had stumbled through Giles' door, starving and desperate. And a lot of
the time after that he'd spent fighting with Spike, or ignoring him, or being
ignored.
How can I feel this way in such a short time?
Seems...too fast. It's crazy. But...miss him, miss him...
Wanted him for two years. Loved him for two years. It
isn't too fast. It was too slow
Xander was amazed that the soldier would say such a thing,
but the soldier was straightforward, if a bit schizo. He lay in bed that night
reading a library book - a collection of Jeffer's poetry - and while the words
about granite and pines, the sea and hawks, stonecutters and seals ran and
blurred together on the page, he remembered... A night in the Basement of
Doom, his parents upstairs screaming like the damned, hurling invective and
bottles and god knew what else. And Xander had cringed down on his couch,
horrified and ashamed and flinching, waiting. Waiting to hear that drawling,
caressing voice stroke across him with razors and acid, telling him what he
knew already: worthless, useless and wasn't he going to be just like
them - already just like them - spoilt blood and not a chance in hell to
escape it. But Spike had stood up and stamped into his boots and pulled on his
duster, talking about getting a beer and playing a game of pool. Then he'd
stood in the doorway and looked at Xander as if he were a complete idiot.
"You comin' or what, mate?" he'd snapped, lighting
a cigarette and blowing the smoke toward Xander - eyebrow cocked, lips
smirking. Xander had scrambled to put on his sneakers and they'd played pool
and drunk beer and basically acted like friends. And Spike hadn't said a word,
not one word, about his parents.
Xander looked up at the mirror over his dresser, where six
garish postcards and one photograph were stuck. Maybe he felt the same.
Maybe he felt...something for me, too, that long ago. Only took a couple weeks
after that for me to kiss him. Mmmm...that kiss ... Spike, Spike, come home
Xander fell asleep on the book, dreaming about storms and seals and white,
arrow-winged gulls.
_______________
Child's Ballads - Thomas the Rhymer
Arthur Symons - As A Perfume
Tears for Fears - Mad World
Emily Dickinson - Wild Nights
Anonymous, 16th Century - Lover in Winter Plaineth for
the Spring
Robinson Jeffers - Divinely Superfluous Beauty
A. E. Housman - More Poems
11 Promise
Spike flew, the motorcycle like solid thunder between his thighs, the sea-salt air slicing around him, cold and heavy. He'd stolen a CD player and headphones and was blasting Buzzcocks straight into his skull. He roared the words along with Shelley, swooping the bike from lane to lane. It was almost three a.m., and the traffic was light. Spike grinned. Home. He was going home. Xander was there, waiting for him Please be there love. Had to do this. Had to get out, get back into my game...collect a debt. Please be there and he was eager to arrive. He gunned the bike faster still, demon's eyes behind wrap-around shades easily seeing the route.
"I used to only want but now I need
To get by with what I got but now I need
I need
I used to only want but now I need
I need sex ... I need love
I need drink ... I need drugs
I need food ... I need cash
I need you to love me back"
He'd finished up in Oxnard late Thursday night. Then he'd driven south, down to LA, in search of replacements for his trademark railroad spikes. Going out of his range seemed the smart thing to do. He didn't want anyone linking him to anything. At least, not yet. He'd driven into LA in the pale lemon light of almost-dawn and holed up in a cheap motel, putting his last postcard in the mailbox on the corner.
Hope he liked those. Kinda...poufy. But I had to let him know I was still alive somehow Then he'd slept, and dreamed of Xander - called his name so loud he'd woken himself. It was only mid-afternoon, but sleep had been elusive and he'd ended up watching TV until the sun went down. He'd stared at the phone and thought about calling Xander - had been thinking about it every hour, every day. But he'd had work to do - something that had to be done, even if the need was only in his mind. A spot of revenge on four men who'd touched mine Xander and hurt him. He didn't want to talk to Xander about it on the phone. Time enough for talk later. If Xander would listen.
That night in L.A. he'd gone out, leaving his duster behind, finding an easy meal in a dark corner of a club oh, the blood, makes me whole, makes me...
He'd taken the bright white shirt the food had been wearing. Then he'd gone into one of those rich-folk home improvement places. And why in hell is this place open at ten o'clock at night? Surprisingly, there had been spikes there - about half the size of real railroad spikes, but solid and deadly all the same. Spike had looked them over, but then decided on something…newer.
Eight inch long galvanized steel, as big around as his index finger. And twisted. Spiral nails, the box said. Love at first sight. Spike got two dozen and walked jauntily outside, ignoring the alarm as he exited the store, and knocking aside with a casual backhand the security guard who came running. He made his way back to the bike, shedding the stolen shirt not much of a disguise but better than a long leather coat in this weather getting his duster and hitting the road. Pushed the bike up to top speed and just gone, leaving the lights of LA behind, leaving Oxnard behind, feeling the subtle, warping aura of the Hellmouth stretch out and pull him in. Going home, going home. Can't wait to feel my boy around me, on me, beneath me...heat and sweat and sawdust smell, sweet and musk
He undulated on the saddle of the bike, the vibration sending delicious tingles through his groin and belly - making his hard-on even harder.
"I need ... I need ... I need ... I need
The things I used to crave for now I need
Have made me just a slave for what I need
I need
Yes I am just a slave for what I need"
When the Welcome to Sunnydale sign came into view, Spike considered running the bike into it but decided that arriving home with cuts and broken bones would probably not make for a very fun homecoming. He ditched the bike near the ruins of the old high school and walked the rest of the way. He was back. He was once again the Big Bad, and the vamps and demons of Sunnydale would soon know it. And so would the soldiers. Whether they knew it was him or not, he was going to make his presence felt.
As he got closer to home, he walked slower and slower, thinking. He wanted - more than anything - to find the Slayer and her Watcher, and slowly repay them both for the humiliations he had endured at their hands. But... Xander will hate that. He's not happy with them, but they're still his mates... Bloody hell. Not gonna endure any shite from the Slayer. Hope Xander can talk to her, 'cause I might just have to... Fuck. He stopped altogether, looking down the street to the cul-de-sac and home, home He pulled a cigarette out and lit it, then resumed his walk, even slower then before.
He was going to get the soldiers - the doctors - anyone he could find that had been a part of the Initiative. And he wasn't going to show them any mercy whatsoever. Xander knew that. But... The Judge had been right, when he'd said he and Dru had 'stunk of humanity'. They had - he had, and still did - always would.
It was that soul Xander could see - William the Poet still looking out of William the Bloody's eyes from time to time. Spike had never seen a reason to give up his passions - his obsessions. Had seen no reason not to love and live exactly as his mind, his will and soul, apparently dictated. Somehow, knowing the soul was there - that the human part was real not just something Dru passed on - madness from her blood to mine. Always thought that's what it was, that so-familiar voice… it gave him...permission. To love Xander like he did, hopelessly and completely. It gave him permission to - make exceptions. To act as other vampires would not - very possibly could not.
He'd always done that - always been an aberration that Darla, Angelus - the Master - could barely abide. Dru had the Sight - she was allowed her strangeness, because her talent was real, and useful. And because Angelus' cruelly deft hand had made her so. But his strangeness...had only pissed the Family off. And he'd wrapped it around himself like armor and used it like a sword and a wedge and a bludgeon, even. Anything to maintain himself. The demon had given him the means - speed and strength, immortality and amorality - to do anything, be anything. And he'd warped the demon to his will and fought its rage and its mindlessness to a standstill.
He used it - and never again would he be that beaten, heartsick, stumbling fool of a boy. It was true, what he'd told Xander - nothing and no one owned him, not even the demon. And for Xander he would do... Anything. Everything. I'll give him this because I CAN. Me. Spike. Who backs away from nothing, and bows down to no one. Ever again. My lovely boy saw to that It wasn't some blood-borne madness that made him like this. It was himself. And that had a very deep and satisfying feel to it. He was...better...then he ever thought he could be - and beneath no one, at all.
No, he wouldn't kill them, and Xander would believe it was love and the soul and that Spike was really a good guy, down deep. Spike would know he wasn't good at all, but that he could make exceptions to every rule, and be what he chose to be. And right now and forever, he chose to be the vampire that Xander loved.
He finished his smoke and tossed the butt away, then went silently up the steps to the door, hoping to find it open and not chained and locked as was Xander's usual habit. The knob turned easily under his hand, and he slipped inside. The wolf was there, sprawled on the couch, and Oz lifted his muzzle, eyes glittering, and made a tiny sound, a sort of interrogatory whine that made Spike grin.
"Wolfling. Better close your ears, mate," Spike whispered. He took his Docs off and left them by the door, shed his duster to the couch-back and ghosted through the house to the bedroom, undoing his belt. He stood in the doorway for a moment, only watching, drinking in the sight of my own, my boy Xander was curled in the center of the bed, a pillow bunched to his chest, a book laying face-down on the other pillow, fat candle half-burned on the night table. In the golden light he glowed; sable hair as sleek as a mink, with glints of red and gold in it. His dark eyes were shuttered behind thick lashes, his lush, mobile mouth open very slightly. His skin looked like the softest tanned suede, and Spike itched to touch it, re-learn it; taste and smell and have every inch of it. He took his clothing off silently, dropping them where he stood, and moved to the side of the bed. He could smell Xander; the honeyed warmth of him, salt and sweet, clean wood and a little clean sweat, the citrus soap from the shower. Spike shivered all over; scenting him, achingly hard, his thighs trembling with want and his breath coming in little pants. He slipped into the bed - into the laval heat from Xander's body, the scent of love mine safety home home
Xander was dreaming. In his dream, he was running with Willow, heading for the Bronze. Inside was a confusion of bodies - screaming, darting figures in the dim light. And then Jesse was there, and then they were face to face, and then the jolt of the stake, going in, and not Jesse's face now - Spike's face - dissolving, flying apart, ribboning down in scarves of ash and dust. In his dream, Spike screamed as he died, and Xander screamed as well, a choking cry - NO! And woke shivering all over, panting, his heart pounding fit to burst. And cool, cool arms, holding him tight, cool hands stroking over his chest, lips against his ear and a voice, purring out words of comfort, words of love. SPIKE? Can't be...still dreaming...am I? Fuck, don't want this to be a dream... Xander opened his eyes - took a long, long breath, and it was there; the scent of him - leather and smoke, the cool spices of his hair, his sex, his unliving, demonic flesh. Flesh that Xander wanted to taste, to touch...to crawl inside. He pushed back against the chilled hardness of chest and belly and cock and thighs, and a sound escaped him, a low moan of want. He fought to turn, to see, and the arms loosened, helping him, and Spike was there, just there; fathomless eyes and ink-slash of eyebrows, the face of a cathedral angel and the wickedly smiling mouth of Lucifer himself. Home, he's home, he's here…
"Ssss..." Xander tried to say Spike's name and couldn't - found his teeth were chattering so hard he could barely make a sound at all.
"Xander, love...you all right?" Spike's voice was honey, was a growl of pure arousal, and Xander shuddered, clenching his jaw, trying to get control. Spike's hair was tousled and waved over his head, and one lock fell forward, curling beside the scar, beside ridiculously girlish lashes.
"S-ss- Spike!"
"Yes love..." That smile - that smile of pure want, and oh fuck... Xander moved, faster then he thought possible. He took Spike's face in his hands and kissed him. Kissed him as hard and long and as deeply as he could; shaking, seeking out every inch of the cool, wet flesh - bruising the lips beneath his and sucking greedily on the flickering tongue. Arousal coursing through him in waves, hot and cold. He finally had to pull away, gasping, and Spike's lips were swollen and gleaming, his eyes nearly black. Xander ran his fingers back through Spike's hair, down his neck to shoulders and back. Spike moved then, rolling Xander beneath him and kissing him back, just as hard, as desperate. His cock was hard and slick with pre-come, rubbing over Xander's own erection, and Xander thrust up against him, fighting to get his legs free, to wrap them around Spike's hips and cling with his arms, nails digging into the satin flesh. They were both moaning now, panting, and Xander wanted...
"Spike - need you love - need you now...in me... Spike...want you to fuck me...have me... Spike, Spike, love..." His own voice was gasping and hoarse with desire, his words coming out between kisses and bites and licks from the mouth of the vampire.
"Yesss," Spike hissed, grinding into him, biting along his jaw, his throat. Xander arched upwards hard and cried out when Spike's teeth grazed the near-invisible mark he'd made a week ago. He was trembling on the edge - had never felt so needy, so wanton. He spread his legs as far as they would go, urging Spike to do something, do anything.
"Wait love, hav'ta get...somethin'..." Spike lunged for the side table, fumbling in the drawer, and Xander licked his tongue over Spike's nipples, rough rasps like cat, tasting the silken flesh, biting so that Spike gasped aloud. Then Spike was moving, kneeling up, and Xander reached down to stroke the jutting hardness of the vampire's cock, bringing a slicked finger up to his mouth and sucking off the savory fluid that was smeared there. Spike hovered over him, his eyes gone gleaming gold.
"Hurry Spike - just do it, I want you, want you in me..."
"Won't hurt you, love, wait, wait..." Spike smeared lube on his fingers and wormed them into
tight, grasping flesh. Xander felt the fire building impossibly fast in his balls - his belly. He grasped
Spike's biceps, urging him forward, arching upwards, unable to keep himself still. Spike was panting now, eyes fixed on Xander.
"Oh fuck, Xander...so hot..." Spike moaned. When Spike thrust a third finger into him - twisting, rubbing, the orgasm that rolled over Xander was like a wave of lightning. A rush of tingling sparks surged the length of Xander's body, and he cried out, hands tightening convulsively on Spike's arms, hard enough to bruise. Spike leaned down and fastened his mouth on Xander's cock, sucking the last of the creamy fluid from him, licking it from where it had spattered on belly and chest. Xander lay panting, writhing, still impaled on the caressing fingers, and he groaned when Spike withdrew.
"Xander...so sweet, so fuckin' perfect..." Spike pressed forward, twisting his hips and sinking into Xander, one long glide, his head thrown back and his mouth open in a soundless cry. Xander shuddered, already growing hard again, and he pulled Spike down to him, his thighs against Spike's ribs, his calves on the trembling shoulders. He wanted Spike as deep, as close as he could possibly get him, and Spike began to thrust into him hard, rubbing over and over that one place, making Xander gasp aloud. Oh fuck, want...want more...oh good, so good...closer love, deeper love, more...
Xander wasn't aware he was chanting aloud, his voice a whispered rasp. Spike dipped down and pushed at Xander's thighs with his arms, pounding into him, and Xander bit at the vampire's mouth, his lips - threw his head back suddenly, stretching his throat out, pulling Spike closer and the demon snarled. Spike bent to the arched column of flesh, snuffling over it, tasting. Without warning he sank his fangs deep into the muscle at the top of Xander's shoulder - a harder, more savage bite then he'd ever given. Xander screamed aloud, his body dissolving into a frenzy of desperate thrusts and Spike's did the same, pounding flesh and bone hard enough to bruise. Xander sank his nails into Spike's back, clawing him closer... need need oh fuck I neeeed!
He snaked his head around, pure instinct, and sank his own, blunter teeth into Spike's neck, as hard as he could, tearing flesh and feeling the sudden tingle on his lips and tongue as the vampire's blood ran into his mouth.
It was like an electric current had suddenly opened between them - mouth to cock to mouth - incandescent and pure. Spike arched hard into him, whipping his own head away from Xander's body, roaring into the spangled darkness. Xander could feel Spike's orgasm, the shuddering spasms of it pumping cool semen into him and his own body did the same, pouring out his ecstasy between them.
Spike collapsed onto him, panting, and Xander wrapped trembling legs around his waist, arms around his neck, pulling him close and closer, unwilling to let even a millimeter of air come between them. He kissed Spike, all over his face, darting little kisses between gasps for air, little licks of his tongue to gather the taste of the vampire to him, his hands ceaselessly roving over and over the arched back, the perfect curve of buttock.
"Spike, you're home, you're here, you bastard, don't you ever do that to me again, Spike...Spike..." Xander whispered to him, and his whole body felt...new. Felt as if he'd just wakened from a long and restful sleep and the tingly, drowsy feeling was peace and satiation, and comfort. Spike was licking the bite now, cleaning away all traces of blood, sending little sparks of pleasure along Xander's spine, down into his belly.
"Xanderrr," he purred, licking, kissing, and Xander ran his hands up over Spike's shoulders and throat to his head - pushed his fingers back through Spike's hair and then jerked the vampire's head up, glaring into startled lapis eyes.
"Don't you fuckin' dare ever do that - I thought you were dead for three days! Or back in the damn Initiative!" Xander gave the vampire's head a little shake, feeling tears welling. He blinked them back, pulled Spike down to kiss him again, biting Spike's lower lip so that the vampire hissed in startlement. Xander licked at the welling of scarlet blood there, feeling it sizzle through his mouth like champagne.
"You don't ever, ever just leave, Spike. Ever. I can't do that. I can't stand that." Spike's eyes were golden in the candle-light, glimmering, and he ducked his head down into Xander's neck and nuzzled there for a moment.
"You - didn't you get the postcards, love?" he asked finally, and Xander felt a reluctant chuckle bubble up from inside.
"Yeah, I got 'em. They were...I loved them." Spike smiled, and Xander swept his hands down Spike's back to his buttocks and squeezed hard, pinching.
"Oi!"
"Doesn't make up for it. Doesn't make up for it one bit. " Xander managed to flex his hips a little, pushing up against Spike, and he sighed a breathy ohhh when he felt the vampire move, still hard inside him.
"I'll make up for it," Spike murmured, kissing him - neck and shoulders, cheeks and chin and nose, delicate licks at his mouth, his long fingers tucking into the hair behind Xander's ears, curving around his skull and holding him close. "I'll make up for it all night, love, all day tomorrow...not gonna let you out of bed...not gonna let you be empty for one minute, love...my love...mine..."
"Yours, all yours..." Xander sighed into the smoke and spice of his mouth, the cool damask of his skin. He was becoming hard again himself, something he hadn't thought possible after the intensity of the orgasms he'd just had. Spike continued to kiss, sweet and slow, his body barely moving. Xander undulated beneath him, using internal muscles to massage the hard length inside him. He couldn't stop his hands from going over and over Spike's body, tracing out ribs and shoulder blades, bicep, triceps, the hollow of his collarbones and the ridge of spine. His thighs ached and trembled, locked around Spike's waist, but he wouldn't let go. Spike licked again and again at the marks on Xander's neck, and Xander couldn't help gasping each time he did it.
"Ohhh...fuck...why does it - why does it feel like that? Why is that so fuckin' sexy?"
"Just is, love. How it is, when a vampire bites a human. Why d'ya think people pay vampires to bite 'em?"
"What? People do that?" Spike moved his hips a little faster, hissing, and Xander closed his eyes, reveling in the sensations; the pull and thrust and weight of Spike in him and over him, his scent and the texture of his skin.
"You feel - me, in you. When I do this." Tongue on the bite, rasping, and Xander shuddered. And he could feel - could feel something else, something besides the physical. Could feel pleasure. Want. Fierce joy. Predatory desire that would have and never let go. Tenderness. Xander looked up, into Spikes' gaze, and saw those same things there, in his eyes. Saw Spikes' love laid out for him, raw and so hungry...
"That's you? Spike, I can feel...what you feel, for me..."
"Yeah? That's brilliant, pet. It works, then. This is how I feel for you, this..." And Spike dropped his head again to the mark, his hips thrusting faster now, his hands pulling Xander closer. When he came it was with a sound like a sob, and Xander arched into him and came as well, reveling in those pulses of raw emotion that seemed to flow straight from Spikes' heart into him. They lay gasping, and Xander finally had to let his legs fall, almost painfully stretching them out on either side of Spikes' hips, letting his feet tangle with the vampire's.
"Do you feel - what's it like, when I do this?" Xander asked, and mouthed his own bite-mark on Spikes' shoulder. Spike hugged him tight, then lifted his head to look at Xander again, smiling.
"Feels like - like you just put your hand in me and petted me...feels like you took my cock in your mouth...like you kissed me. Feels good, love..."
"Can you...can you feel this?" Xander thought at Spike - thought of the past week and how empty he'd felt - how alone. How he felt now - alive again, complete. How much he loved Spike - how beautiful he was. Spike closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were wide and shocked.
"Didn't think you could - love me so much. You love me that much, Xander?" Spike's voice had dropped to a rough whisper, and his gaze was fearful and amazed all at once - and desperate. Wanting so much. Xander felt that fear, fluttering along the edges of his mind. Spike's fear, that somehow this was all...temporary. Superficial. Xander traced Spike's cool lips with his fingers - gently kissed him - no pressure, just a sighing touch.
"Love you that much. That much..." He kissed him again, a little harder, and Spike responded eagerly, sinking his tongue into Xander's mouth, teasing it along tooth-edges and the sensitive roof, fluttering his tongue over and around Xander's like a cool, pink moth. Xander groaned, and pushed a little with his heels, but he couldn't get his legs to come up again.
"Want more, Spike, but I think I'm gonna need to - get my second wind, here." Spike ducked to nibble Xander's lower lip and smirked up at him.
"Poor human. All shagged out already?" Xander pinched a taut buttock and Spike bucked into him a little, laughing.
"Just have to put up with it, Spike. M'all...tingly and...heavy. Mmmm..." Xander pulled him close, to kiss and caress. Slowly, so slowly, they both drifted into sleep.
The candle hissed and sputtered, and in the kitchen Oz turned on the radio, searching for something soft. He settled to a snack of cold store-bought chicken and a woman's voice and smooth guitar, spiraling out into the warm, sea-scented air.
"...But night is the cathedral where we recognized the sign...
We strangers know each other now, as part of a whole design...
Oh hold me like a baby, that will not fall asleep...
Curl me up inside you and let me hear you through the heat... "
_____________________
Buzzcocks - I Need
Suzanne Vega - Gypsy
12 Truth
Late Sunday afternoon; Spike asleep in bed, Xander half-heartedly sweeping the living room, Oz perusing the help wanted pages of the paper. Like fuckin' Leave it to Beaver here or something. What is wrong with you people! The soldier hated the domesticity of everyday life and seemed happiest when plotting death and destruction. Xander had learned to tune him out but sometimes, like now, he just made Xander laugh. Oz looked up from the paper, giving him a curious look through the pass through.
"What's so funny, Xander?"
"Oh - it's just..." Xander dragged the broom to the doorway and stood there, poking it into the corner made by the wall and kitchen cabinet. He felt pleasantly languorous and achy from...last night. Two last nights. "You remember that Halloween, that spell that Giles' old buddy did that made us all turn into what our costumes were? I dressed up like a soldier..."
"Yeah."
"Well - the soldier's still around. He - never really left. I can still remember a lot of that military stuff and - he - talks to me."
"Yeah? Like - out loud?" Oz looked nothing more then curious, but Xander felt the blood rush to his face. He's gonna think I'm insane. Well. More insane then usual
"Well - in my head. Anyway, he's all - upset - 'cause I haven't been doing the whole 'Scooby' thing so much lately. He likes the search and destroy stuff. Actually, the hyena..." Xander trailed off at Oz's look of astonishment, and he bit his lip.
Damn. Didn't mean to let that out.
Pack. Won't care
Oh, shut up. How big is this pack, anyway? You keep adding people.
Many. Us. Vampire. Wolf. Mother-witch.
MOTHER witch? You mean Willow.
Light witch A fleeting image of Tara, blonde hair backlit by the sun, came to Xander's mind. NOT Willow?
Red witch scares us
"Xander? You all right?"
"Huh?" Xander blinked - realized that he'd totally zoned out and that Oz was staring at him.
"Oh, sorry, I..."
"You said hyena. Wanna - fill me in?" Xander sighed, and leaned the broom against the wall. He pushed at his hair, which was growing long. No quite long enough to put in a ponytail, long enough to get in his eyes. Spike loved it. He went over to the 'fridge and got out a jug of cranberry juice and poured a glass, then sat opposite Oz, taking a long drink.
"Oookay. When Buffy first moved here, we did this field trip to the zoo...and there were these hyenas. And the zookeeper was kinda crazy and he was trying to do this spell to get possessed by the hyena spirit or something, only - me and that guy Tor? His gang, they were in the hyena exhibit, picking on Lance - remember him? Anyway, we all got - caught - in the spell instead. So for a while we were - pack." Xander took another drink, eyeing Oz over the rim of the glass. Oz didn't seem too freaked.
How the fuck can you tell? He'd make a good spy
Shut. Up. Xander continued.
"Anyway, so, I had a hyena spirit in me and did some crazy stuff, and then that zookeeper - he took it back, sort of. It - never really left. It's still in here, too. Still wants a pack." Oz sat back in his chair, head cocked to one side, a little line of a frown between his eyebrows.
"So, does it have a pack, love?" They both jumped at Spike's voice and turned to see the vampire nude, lounging in the doorway to the bedroom. Not fair. How come he can fuck all night and get up looking like...like THAT! Sex and attitude and...sex... The diffused golden light coming through the blinds made Spike's skin the palest champagne gold, threaded with tiny silver lines of scars. Xander shifted a little in his chair. Spike was looking with definite interest at him, and after a moment Oz looked over at Xander, too.
"Yeah - is there a pack?" Oz's voice was low - slightly hesitant - and Xander wondered suddenly what the wolf thought of them; their odd little home.
"Yeah - there is. It says "Us" Meaning me and the soldier and it, and "Vampire, Wolf"...and... Tara."
"Not Red?" Spike pushed away from the jamb and sidled over to Xander, leaning on the back of his chair and combing his fingers through Xander's hair. Xander closed his eyes in a long blink, loving the feel of the strong, cool fingers tugging and petting. He's nude. In the kitchen. Touching me. In front of OZ. I shouldn't be getting turned on
"Mmmm... No. Not Willow. She scares it. Kinda scares me, too." Xander sat up a little straighter suddenly, looking at Oz. "Oz man, that doesn't - it doesn't bug you, does it? I mean...you're ok with being part of my psychotic little pack?" Oz was picking at his fingernails, and he glanced up at Xander and Spike with a quick, smiling look.
"Yeah. It's kinda cool. The wolf likes it. He needs a pack, too... I really need to re-do these." Oz picked a flake of polish off his nail and Xander laughed. He captured one of Spike's hands and pulled it around to inspect.
"Hmmm. Definitely time for a manicure party, Spike. These are atrocious." Spike snorted.
"S'what happens when you're doing heavy labor with your bare hands, love." Xander twisted around in his chair, looking up at Spike, puzzled.
"What heavy labor? You're the laziest person I know."
"Oi! M'not lazy. I just prefer other people to do the heavy lifting. I had to do some...work, while I was away." Xander just looked at him, confused, and then suddenly it clicked and he looked away - looked down. He felt something fear? anger? pulse over him; something Spike was feeling and just as hastily shut down. The feelings - the link, Spike had said - were strong and getting stronger very fast. Xander was getting more and more flashes of whatever Spike was feeling. He wondered how strong it would get...he wondered if Spike was feeling him. It was - amazing, and unsettling. But good.
"Spike. Would you...would you put on some jeans and sit down and tell me...what you were doing up in Oxnard?" Xander studied the vampire's face, seeing the tiny flinch at the emotionless tone of his voice.
"Don't need to get dressed for that, pet. I was - gettin' back to full strength. Brushing up on my skills. They'd got a tad rusty of late, what with all the - excitement." Spike stalked over to the counter and got a cigarette, lighting it with a snap. He leaned there, smoking furiously, looking at Xander through half-closed eyes.
"But what - what exactly were you doing?" Xander asked, and he realized his voice had gotten very small. Some other emotion surged over him - panic. He stared hard at Spike and realized that the vampire was shaking. That Spike was terrified.
What's wrong? Oh...he thinks...
Well, you're all in a panic over it yourself, Harris. Why shouldn't he be?
I'm NOT. Ok, I am. But... Spike...love you love you Spike felt that - Xander could tell. Spike shut his eyes for a long moment, and then he was striding into the living room and grabbing his duster. Cigarette clenched in his teeth, he rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a stained handkerchief. Blood, that's blood. The hyena tried to scent it and Xander crushed it back. Spike put the knotted handkerchief on the table in front of Xander and draped his duster over a chair. Stood there smoking, watching him. Only Spike could look so intimidating totally nude. And this - like a cat bringing in a dead bird... No, don't go there. Oz had pulled both feet up into his chair and rested his chin on his knees. He too was watching Xander, looking a little like he thought he should leave the room. Xander slowly undid the knots and spread the spattered cotton out. Inside were four things. He touched each of them, naming the name. Knowing.
"Tony." A gold class ring with a large blue stone. There was a football emblem on one side, a cougar on the other. Linebacker. Hurt his shoulder, had to quit "Mike." A money clip, tarnished brass with a tigers-eye stone set into it. Got it from his dad - a graduation present "Jason." A picture - his 1971 Mustang, all tricked out with racing stripe and mag wheels and scoop. He did all the work himself. "Chris." A bracelet, woven leather strips and silver beads. Got it from his girlfriend Xander stirred the things with his finger, not looking at Spike or Oz. Remembered Mike helping him with the wiring in the trailer. Remembered Tony having a beer and laughing as Xander and Chris played pool. Remembered Jason telling him his car was totally dead - KIA. Remembered as well, fists and boots, a swinging bat, cruel voices that shouted hateful, hurtful things. He knew what it meant. Knew...they were dead.
"You..."
"Yeah. They hurt you." Spike looked as belligerent and stubborn as a child, knowing he'd pissed somebody off - not admitting he'd been wrong. Xander knew Spike wasn't sorry - knew he would do it again in a minute. Xander looked back down at the pitiful remains of four people he had known.
Protect the pack.
You knew he'd do this. Do something like this, as soon as you told him about being attacked. It's gonna be like this. Question is, can you deal, Harris?
Xander sighed, and knotted the handkerchief up again, and finally, finally, looked back up at Spike. The vampire met his gaze, his eyes so clear, so deeply blue - like the sea. And like the sea, Xander couldn't fathom them - couldn't see what was behind them. But he could feel... They washed over him in waves; emotions so strong that he could almost not bear them. Love. Want. Need, like a scream from the abyss. Fear. Possessiveness. Loneliness. And all of it so hungry. So raw, and so powerful.
He can't lie. Can't ever lie. And we can't lie to him. However this works - we can't ever lie, and we'll always know...always know the truth. And the biggest truth is: he's a vampire. And that's not going to change. And if I can't deal...I lose. Lose him
Xander stood up slowly and reached for Spike's cigarette. He lay it gently in the ashtray on the table and then took Spike's face in his hands. He stood looking across the scant inches that separated them, and he loved him, loved this man-not-man. But…
"You can't do this, Spike. You can't." Low whisper, his eyes never leaving the oceanic blue of the vampire's, and there was a…flinch, in the link.
"It's what I am, love. No one touches what's mine." Spike's voice just as low - vibrating with pain.
"I wasn't yours, then."
"Doesn't matter." Xander let his thumbs just gently caress the blades of Spike's cheekbones - the hollows beneath. His fingers sunk into the soft waves of platinum hair and his heart beating so hard, so painfully hard. Dimly, he was aware of Oz moving - slipping into the living room.
"You don't…care that they're dead." Not really a question and Spike didn't try to answer it, just put his hands lightly on Xander's hips. Xander leaned in and kissed him, softly. "You don't care, but I do, love, I do. You can't…you can't put that on me, Spike. You can't put any more deaths on me. Please love? You can't." Finally, finally, Xander opened to the link - let everything he was feeling spill out, and it was sorrow fear anger horror but it was also love love you always my love mine ALWAYS
Sent as clearly and as fiercely as this new voice would allow, and Spike's eyes widened, and then he leaned up and kissed Xander, slow and sweet and deep. Holding nothing back. His heart on his lips and his hands just gently, gently stroking back through Xander's hair, holding him close.
They were both oblivious to the phone ringing, and Oz answering it. As Oz talked, Xander pulled Spike close, loving the press of the hard, cool body against him; kissing with more urgency now, letting his hands slide down Spike's back to his buttocks and pull him closer still. Spike was rapidly becoming erect, and he slid one lean thigh up Xander's leg, curling it around, his heel digging into Xander's thigh.
The kiss became passionate, breathless, and Xander had to break away, gasping a little. Spike's lips on his throat, and Spike in his head love you love you promise Oz stood in the doorway to the living room, frowning again.
"Guys. Giles wants us at his place in an hour. Something's happened, apparently."
"Bloody Watcher. C'mon pet, come wash my hair..." Spike nipped lightly at Xander's throat and Xander shuddered and hugged him tight.
"What's happened? Did he say?" You're practically dry-humping your...vampire in front of your ...werewolf housemate. Fuck, this is insanity. How come I don't care?
"Initiative. Adam. Death and chaos. The usual."
"Right. Right. Ok. An hour. We'll just... Spike! We'll just be..." Spike was walking towards the bedroom, having wound his arms around Xander's waist and hoisted him effortlessly. Oz smirked and turned back to the living room.
"I'll just see what's on TV, then," the werewolf said, and rolled his eyes. Spike kicked the bathroom door shut behind them.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Xander stood at the top of the stairs going down to Giles' courtyard and sighed. He really didn't want to go down there. All this business with the Initiative was getting out of hand, and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse. He felt a soft touch in the small of his back, up under his sweater, and he turned his head to smile at Spike. The vampire smirked back, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. Something that would automatically piss off Giles.
"C'mon pet, once more unto the breach," Spike whispered, and leaned in for a quick kiss. Then he sauntered down the steps and pushed open Giles' door, the Big Bad from head to toe. Xander grinned over at Oz and followed. Inside, Giles was already snapping at Spike to put out his cigarette, and Buffy was glaring daggers - or maybe stakes - at him. Xander and Oz slipped in; Oz went immediately to the breakfast bar, perching on a stool, and Xander settled at Giles' table next to Tara. Anya sat at his other side, smiling at him, and he smiled back a little warily. Willow was doing something on her laptop, frowning.
Spike sucked another half-inch of cigarette to ash and flicked the butt into Gile's kitchen sink, then settled himself on the stairs. Giles had only two lamps lit, and in the dimness of the stairwell Spike's eyes glittered like a cats, and he became a crouching, slightly threatening figure. Xander could barely keep his eyes off him and stiffened in his seat when a sudden wash of want need swept over him. He glared over at Spike, whose teeth flashed at him, something between a smile and a snarl. Arousal was a twisting little flame down low in his belly, and Xander hunched down in his chair and tried to pay attention to Buffy.
"Well, I found out where Adam is hiding - some caves in Breaker's Woods. Forrest was there, too - one of Riley's team? Doing some recon. And Adam - killed him. I barely made it out of there myself. The electric zappy-gun Forrest had charged Adam up just like the Energizer Bunny." Buffy touched gingerly at a bad bruise on her forehead and looked over at Giles, who was frowning.
"So it seems that this Adam is not averse to killing members of the Initiative. Have you informed Riley of what happened?" Buffy sighed and sat down on the back of the couch. "Yeah, I told him. He was...pretty upset. That and Angel -"
"Angel's in town?" Giles straightened, taking off his glasses, and Xander felt a bolt of pure rage go through him. He glanced hastily over at Spike who was game-face, snarling silently. Xander sent his own feelings out - calm, and quiet, and love love and relaxed marginally when he saw Spike shift back to his human face, scowling. Buffy looked chagrined, as if she hadn't meant to mention Angel at all.
"Yeah, he - we had some unfinished business from when I went to L.A. He's going back tonight." Giles looked at her for a moment, then he turned to Willow.
"Have you found anything, Willow?" Willow looked up from the scant pages of data on the Initiative that she'd managed to hack into.
"Not really, Giles. All this stuff is so - military. I mean, it's all in that kind of coded military double-talk, you know? It's hard to figure out what they're really saying. Kinda like when you get real excited about a prophecy and start referencing three hundred-year-old books." Willow smiled nervously at him, and Giles pursed his lips, massaging his forehead. Over in his shadows, Spike snorted.
"Yes, well - carry on then. Did this Adam say - anything to you, Buffy? Give any indication of what he's doing out there or what his plans may be?"
"Nah. He was way too interested in trying to kill me. Not one for the polite chit-chat."
"Until we have a better understanding of what he is doing, and a means of killing him, I suggest you avoid his lair altogether. I'd like to talk to Riley about this again, as well. In the meantime, do your best to avoid any Initiative patrols. I'm afraid that they are not going to be very happy with what they perceive as our continuing 'interference'."
Giles leaned up against the breakfast bar and Xander wondered when they could leave - too bad for Forrest, but when you played with fire, you tended to get burned. The Initiative should never have started this particular blaze. That thought was too close to what the soldier was thinking - only he was thinking in terms of friendly fire and acceptable loss and Xander wondered when he'd stopped caring about what happened to the Initiative soldiers. He just wanted them gone. And he really didn't like the thought of Angel lurking around Sunnydale. Who knew what he would find out - or do?
"Slayer, did you say the caves up in Breaker's Woods?" Spike leaned forward into the light, his face serious and sober, and Xander immediately began to panic. It didn't help that he was getting a thready undercurrent of something from Spike that felt suspiciously like laughter.
"Yeah. Why, are you thinking of taking Adam on yourself? He'd go through you quicker then he did Forrest. In fact - go right ahead! Be my guest." Buffy gave Spike a big smile and perkily tilted her head as she chirped at him, and Xander ground his teeth. Spike pulled out a cigarette and his Zippo with an air of long-suffering and lit the cigarette.
"Noo, I wasn't planning on taking him on - but I wonder if he'd like to take me on. Make me a part of his - team, so to speak."
"Why on Earth would he want to do that?" Giles asked, stepping over to Spike and snatching the cigarette from him. Spike sighed, looking frustrated. Giles carried the cigarette to the sink and ran water over it.
"Evil undead, me. And I've got some of Mad Maggie's hardware in my head. Probably thinks I'm one of the bloody family. I can tell him all about the Slayer. All kinds of - secret Slayer stuff. And he can tell me about what he's doin'. Give us a leg-up on him. The whole spy thing, like Bond." Spike straightened, looking pleased with himself, and Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Riiiiight. And you think he'll just cough up the 4-1-1 on his evil plot to you?"
"Well, he's bloody well not gonna tell you lot anythin'. And it beats runnin' around one step behind, doesn't it? It might be your bloke Riley he goes after next."
"And why would you be willing to do this, Spike?" Giles was cleaning his glasses, and he peered nearsightedly at Spike, who snorted softly.
"'Cause you're payin' me, that's why. Blood and smokes and the odd spare quid. And it might be I can get him to part with somethin' about this bloody chip. Might be I can get it out, or find out how to turn it off. Which is something you lot were supposed to be doing -"
"But that's bad..." Willow started, but Oz interrupted.
"No - it's good. It's the perfect con."
"Hmmmm." Giles looked thoughtful, pacing the small space between the stairs and his desk. Xander sat very, very still. He could feel so many things from Spike it was hard to separate them, but primarily he could feel amusement and arrogance - and when they managed brief eye-contact, a rush of lust. Xander bit his lip hard, trying not to groan aloud, and Spike smirked a little.
"I think Spike might have something here. Why don't you go ahead with your plan then, Spike, and we'll expect a report back in - two days?"
"Giles!”
"Oi! Two days!" Buffy glared at Spike and turned to Giles, frustration on her face.
"You're not really going to let him do this Giles, are you? He'll probably just lie to us about anything Adam tells him and end up getting us all killed!"
"Two days is bloody short notice, Watcher - might take longer for me to get in there, you know?"
"No, two days. You have two days to show us some progress. You won't get paid until then. And I seriously doubt Adam has any information about the chip, Willow. And Buffy, if Adam doesn't like Spike coming around he will, as you said, kill him. So really, we'll benefit no matter what, don't you think?" The hyena growled at that, pure rage, and Xander clamped down hard, trying not to react.
Giles had a little smile on his face, looking at Spike, and Spike vamped out, snarling. He hissed at Buffy, who had automatically taken up a defensive stance between him and her Watcher. Everyone was tense - waiting - and Xander couldn't help it, he had to stand up, legs shaking. There was nothing but hate pouring out of Spike now, and Xander battered at it with all the calm calm calm he could muster. He tried to think of something - anything - to say. The utter silence of the room was finally broken by Spike, who straightened out of the predatory crouch he had gone into.
"Bloody bastards. Supposed to be the good guys here." Spike slipped back into his human face, although his eyes continued to glow a baleful yellow, and he pushed past Buffy, heading for the door.
"Spike! Where are you going?" Buffy looked exasperated.
"Got two bloody days, Slayer. Best get started, hadn't I?" He pulled out another cigarette, lighting it as he slammed out the door. There was a moment of silence, then everyone started talking at once. Xander wanted desperately to run out after Spike - soothe him, kiss him...scream baffled questions at him. But he knew he couldn't. After a moment, he felt a faint trickle of love love and he relaxed. Spike was going to wait. Slowly, he sat back down.
He hoped the rest of the meeting wouldn't take too long. Beside him, Anya shifted a little closer. The ex-demon looked pretty tonight, and Xander wished she would stop trying to get him to go out with her. He liked Anya - her blunt ways were fun, and sometimes she said things that were amazingly perceptive. And Xander didn't mind that other people found her matter-of-factness embarrassing. At least Anya told the truth - or the truth as she saw it, which was as good. He was having fun helping her 'fit in' more by explaining, in the most sarcastic way possible, the reasons behind most social graces. As she leaned over, obviously intent on starting with the flirty games once again, Xander decided it was enough. He wanted to 'come clean', as it were, to the gang anyway, and this was as good a time as any. He waited for a break in the conversation and cleared his throat.
"Guys - hey guys? I've got something I've been wanting to tell you all and...I think now is a good time, since everyone is here..." Six pairs of eyes turned on him expectantly, and he felt himself wilt a bit. The tiny nod from Oz, the love from Spike put a little starch back into his spine, and he cleared his throat again.
"Ok...remember when I took my trip this summer? Well, I ended up in Oxnard..."
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Oz and Xander swept through Giles' door and shut it behind them. They both paused for a moment, staring at each other, then burst out laughing.
"Oh my god, I can't believe I did it - I told them!" Xander ran a shaking hand back through his hair, wired on adrenaline and sheer terror. He'd gotten through his story about Oxnard - Thomas - almost everything. And he'd only had to answer about a hundred hysterical questions. Anya had questioned him more closely then the others and had finally left, looking slightly sniffley. Tara had smiled her real smile at him, full of warmth and understanding, and Willow had finally broken out of babble-mode long enough to give him a hug and tell him she supported him no matter what.
And then shot a rather speculative and... considering look at Oz. Giles had polished his glasses, cleared his throat, and offered tea, and then spent twenty minutes in the kitchen not making it. But he'd shaken Xander's hand as they'd left, and told him that it had taken a lot of courage to come out to them, and that he was proud of him.
Xander had felt - warm, at that. Guess the G-man isn't so bad, after all Buffy had been - well, Buffy. She'd screeched a little, wise-cracked a little, then hugged him, and she, too, had shot a narrow look at Oz, who had sat smiling like a skinny, red-haired Buddha.
Xander had deliberately left out Jack - he didn't think he wanted to go there just yet - and had reluctantly but resolutely left out all mention of Spike. Or anyone, for that matter. Better to let them think I'm gay but single, for now. Don't really want to go through the 'are you possessed, are you insane, he's so dead' thing right now
They climbed the steps out of Giles' courtyard and headed across the parking lot to Xander's truck. Oz turned to say something to Xander and suddenly his eyes went black and his mouth stretched in a silent snarl. Then Xander felt himself being lifted up and swung around, held tight by strong arms in a familiar leather coat. Smoke and spice and leather smell, cool lips on the back of his neck.
"Spike! Jesus!" Xander squirmed around in his embrace, facing him and covering Spike's mouth in a hard kiss. Whiskey, smoke, blood. mmmm Xander tucked his face into Spike's neck for a moment, just breathing.
"What took so long, pet? I've been to Willy's and back."
"Mmmm...mmmm? Willy's? I thought -"
"Had a change of heart, he did." Spike smirked at him, and Xander pulled away a little and smiled.
"Oh. Really? It took so long because I told them I was - well, I told them I was gay. Mostly gay. You know."
"'Mostly' gay? Can you do it like that, pet?"
"Well, you know - I have been with girls, and it wasn't like it was - horrible or anything. Well, ok, it was kinda horrible, some of it. But still - girls." Spike growled deep in his chest, and Xander laughed, kissing him lightly before turning and starting to walk to his truck again. Oz was already there, leaning against the passenger door and looking up at the sky. It was a clear night and the stars were thick as dewdrops in the grass. Xander squeezed Spike's hand, fishing for his keys.
"Anyway, that's what took so long. I told them, and they asked me tons of questions, and now they know."
"Just what do they know, love?" Spike pulled Xander close, kneading Xander's back through his sweater, and Xander slipped his arms inside the duster, under the t-shirt and along the cool back.
"Just that. I left out Jack, for now. And you. I didn't want to -"
"Hush, pet." Spike kissed him, nibbling at his lip, and love you love you mine pulsed over Xander - through him. He sent it back, hard as he could, and Spike's arms tightened around him.
"You don't worry your head about it, pet. Can't be tellin' them all your secrets right out. This one'll keep, all right?" Xander looked at him; brushed his fingers back through Spike's hair and then cupped the nape of the vampire's neck in his hand, gripping lightly.
"I...I know I can't tell them - not right now. But - I want to, Spike. I'm not ashamed of you."
"Know you aren't, love. Don't fret." Spike kissed him again, gentle and soft, and then backed away, inclining his head a little toward the truck and Oz waiting patiently. Xander smiled at him and unlocked the door and Spike slithered across the seat and opened the other door for Oz.
"Hey - why did you volunteer to go hang out with Adam? What's the deal?" Xander asked, starting his truck and shifting into reverse.
"He can tell me 'bout the Initiative, pet. Tell me all their dirty little secrets - tell me who's who. That'll make findin' the bastards that much easier." Spike's eyes gleamed in the streetlights, and Xander nodded silently.
Of course. And why doesn't this bother me more? Killing, again…
HURT what's ours. Kill it The hyena had no compunctions, and Xander reluctantly had to agree with it.
"Ok... You know - you almost got staked in there. I thought - low profile?"
"They pissed me off. Wankers. Hopin' the Frankendoof'll kill me. I'm tryin' to play nice." Xander snorted, and Spike shot him a fangy grin, his eyes dancing.
As Xander drove, Spike put his arm across the back of the seat and ran the tips of his fingers through and through Xander's hair. Xander shivered, relishing the feel of him so close; the little touches and looks that spoke volumes to him about what Spike was thinking and feeling. The - bond, link, whatever it was they had - was amazing, but the casual physicality that Spike indulged in made as much or more of an impression on Xander. He loved to touch - to be touched - and he'd finally found someone who loved it as much as he did. They drove home, Santana on the radio; Oz playing air-guitar along with the complicated chords and laughing at himself. Spike dug more liberated lemon drops out of a pocket and they all crunched some noisily, Spike complaining about how the candy stuck in his fangs. His hand had fallen into a lovely little stroking rhythm on the back of Xander's neck, and Xander wanted to lean his head into it and surrender. He drove extra-careful, just to combat the turn-into-goo feelings.
At the house, getting out of the truck, laughing about something, and suddenly Spike's demon was there, snarling, and Oz's eyes had gone dark, his lips curling back to bare sudden fangs. Spike all but lifted Xander off his feet and rushed him onto the porch, growling. Rage was coming off him, hate, a killing instinct so strong that the hyena howled.
"Spike -"
"Go inside, Xander." Spike leapt from porch to the walk, motioning to Oz who darted up the steps and stood beside Xander, human again but tense. Something moved in the shadows of the sycamores that lined the street-side of the property. Something - someone - stepped from the blackness. Angel. Oh fuck. Just what we need
Xander unlocked the door but didn't go in. He watched as Angel came out into the small space of open lawn, pale skin glowing in the street-light. Spike circled him, head down and demon to the fore. He was snarling continuously, his eyes glowing, and Xander caught his breath, watching him. Spike moved like a stalking cat - like a snake. He was terrifying and beautiful - dreadful and intoxicating all at once. A Master in his own right - the Lucifer that Xander lay down with every night. Xander felt a hot and twisting pull in his belly - in his groin. Fuck. THAT turns me on? That turns me on. Of course it does. Look at him - in his element - what he IS. Beautiful. Mine
Angel was watching Spike warily, but his demon wasn't evident - he seemed, in fact, to be fairly relaxed. Almost - smug. The hyena growled, and Xander felt his hands clenching into fists. Don't be so sure of yourself, deadboy. You'll be lucky if Spike doesn't take your head off
Angel took a couple of steps towards the house and Spike was there between the house and the older vampire, barely three feet from Angel, suddenly and ominously silent. Angel smirked a little.
"William"
Spike stood in a strange, nearly silent place. All of his attention - all of his senses - were bent on the vampire before him. Angel. Memories flooded through him - emotions and actions and words - cascading in a glowing torrent. Too fast to sort, too ephemeral to re-live. Only the hurt was real, like a long-bladed knife going through and through him. And the hate. The pain - the rage - was so strong he was held immobile, nearly deaf. His vision narrowed to a black-edged tunnel and all he could see were the pale planes and angles of Angel's face - his thatch of dark hair, his dark coat. The superior and slightly amused expression on his face. Faintly, like a moth battering at glass, he could feel calm love mine from Xander. But they didn't penetrate.
Left us...betrayed us...abandoned us - me... He took in a deep breath, filling his nose and mouth with the essence of the older vampire. Angel's scent - leather and musk, mint and green tea and dust. And underlying it all, the faint, sickly smell of a vampire who was not feeding well. Animal blood, rank and rotten.
Spike felt his lips curl back from his fangs in something that might have been a smile, and his hand slipped into his pocket - caressed the cool, twisted length of steel there. Surprise the bastard. Let's see how this goes
Then he launched himself forward, forearm striking Angel squarely across the chest, driving him back. Angel hit the trunk of a sycamore with an odd, breathless grunting sound, and in one liquid movement Spike pulled the nail from his coat and drove it through Angel's shoulder, pinning him to the tree. Angel's scream was ragged and inhuman. Sound and thought and sensation suddenly washed through Spike again, freeing him. Spike silenced Angel with a fierce backhanded blow.
"First mistake, Angel. Wanna make a second?" He rattled the nails in his pocket - drew another one out and held it to Angel's other shoulder. Angel swiped weakly at him, gasping, his demon to the fore.
"What are you doing, Wi - Spike!"
"Me, mate? Doin'? Teachin' you my name, I guess. Worked, too. What other lessons might you need to learn, eh?"
"Spike?" Xander called from the porch, and Spike pushed the demon's face inward, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the two on the porch.
"Everythin's all right, mate. Just...seein' if the pouf's a quick study."
"What does he want, Spike?" Xander's voice was level - calm - and Spike felt that calm coming through him, steadying him.
"Dunno. Let's ask." He looked back at Angel, grinning, and dropped the second nail back into his pocket. He reached up to the one in Angel's shoulder and grasped it. He held it for a moment, gaze locked with Angel's, then he wrenched it free of tree and body in one ferocious jerk. Angel gasped harshly and sagged to his knees, and Spike stepped back from him, indolently licking the dark blood from the nail. Angel pushed himself to his feet, holding his wounded shoulder.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Spike? Why are you here - what are you doing with Xander and Oz?"
"Doing? I live here. What's you're soddin' excuse?" Spike spun the nail through his fingers, not watching it, letting it flash in the streetlight.
"You don't have any reason to attack me, Spike. After what happened the last time we met - I should be the one attacking you. You're damn lucky I'm not." Angel stared at him, his lip curling in dislike. "You always were an ungrateful child." The nail stopped moving, and Spike gripped it tightly, his grin fading. The rage - the hurt - burned bright again, and he deliberately kept his face human - his voice low.
"You're not my Sire, Angel. You're just another bloody vampire poaching on my territory, as far as I'm concerned. And if you don't leave, I will kill you." Angel barked a short, humorless laugh, stepping up close to Spike.
"You can deny it until the hells freeze, Spike, but you know -"
"Yeah, I do know - Dru turned me. You bloody well know it, too. Wasn't her fault she didn't know what to do next. You taught me some things - you acted the Sire - but you're not. Any claim you had ended when that hag-ridden soul of yours lodged in your throat like a bone. It chokes you, Angel - chokes you until you're mad with it - it drove Angelus mad. I had to make bloody pax with the Slayer to end Angelus' grand world-destroyin' schemes. You're no more my Sire then Liam was. And Dru's let me go, Angel. She's talkin' to snakes in the jungle. I am Master here. Go back to LA. "
"A Master who can't defend himself - can't feed himself? You're pathetic, Spike. You're no Master - if anyone's Master in Sunnydale it's Buffy, and don't you forget it."
Spike snarled, snapping his fangs inches from Angel's face. Knew. Oh bloody gods, he KNEW
Something - some tiny thing in Spike that had, until then, been a tendril of hope withered utterly with those scathing, scornful, merciless words. He fought for control - found it in the steady, sun-warm flow of love love love that came from Xander.
"You knew. You knew what the bloody soldiers did! And you did nothing. That's why you're not my Sire, Angel. Because my Sire would have torn the soldier-boys limb from limb for me - would have torn down the Initiative brick by bloody brick and sowed its grounds with salt! You. You do fuck all except brood and ponce around L.A., bloody wanker. Hair shirt and ashes on your face. Come running when your bitch calls and tuck tail when she sends you home." Something surged through Spike - an emotion he'd never felt for Angel before. Pity. You ignorant bog-trotting bastard. You just lost me, and you don't even know it. Lost me...and you don't care
"That chip is the only thing keeping you alive, Spike, and you know it." Angel pushed Spike back a step, and Spike threw his head back and laughed. Don't need him, have my boy...it's gone...he's gone ... free of him ...tastes like ashes, like bitterest aloe...
"Oh, Angel - you really are stupid. I'm taken care of here - human blood an' all - dosh, a fine place to lay me bones down... I'm in, here, Angel - like you never were."
"You're fooling yourself, Spike. You're a parasite here. And the minute you're out of line you'll be dust. And I'll be the one doing it." Spike laughed again, harder this time, genuinely amused.
"Weren't you listenin' mate? I'm not livin' on pigs and cows here - I'm living on human blood, like a good vampire's supposed to. You want to challenge me, scavenger?" All amusement left Spike's face, and he growled. "I'll tear your bloody head off, mate." Spike looked for a long moment at Angel - at the blood still seeping from his shoulder, at the look of anger and disgust that twisted Angel's face. Spike sneered, and turned his back, and sauntered up to the house. He dropped the bloody nail back into his pocket.
"You're not invited, peaches. Go home."
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
In the house, finally in the house, magic making its impervious barrier and Spike cat-eyed in the gloom. The shocking glow of baleful yellow as Oz lit a candle and Xander went to Spike to hug him, ask him... Spike stiff-armed him away.
"Spike?"
"Don't, Xander. I..." Spike was utterly still, his hands curled into claws that absently sank into the denim on his thighs. Xander heard the threads pop as he tore through them. What was coming through the link made Xander shiver - a roil of anger and pain, of hunt and hate and sorrow - overwhelming, chaotic.
"Hey -" Spike's head swayed a little, left then right. Scenting. Oz made a strange little grumbling sound in his chest, and out of the corner of his eye Xander saw Oz's eyes darken. Spike hissed. It was a snake sound: low, cold, and hideous. Xander felt himself freeze. mouse, just like a mouse, don't let it see me, don't...
"W-what -"
"Xan-derrrr..." His name devolved into a full-throated growl, and Spike's head was down, eyes glittering, so feral and so predatory that Xander involuntarily took a step back. Spike mirrored him - moved one step closer - then another. His hand came up and hovered over Xander's cheek, trembling. Oz shifted nervously, a grumble of warning or displeasure starting in his chest and Spike's head whipped around to orient on him, full demon in seconds, mouth gaping in a rising roar of sound. Oz froze - Xander did. Spike shook his head, shaking the demon off even though the eyes remained.
"Gotta...you smell like..." Spike let his hand drop, and seemed to come back to himself a little.
"Need to get out, love. I'll - I'll come back. Tonight." The demon-eyes were fierce and dry - the silent wave of emotion that poured over Xander ached with need, with fear, with love love mine please Xander nodded, not daring to speak, sending everything he had of calm love you trust you Spike moved past and was gone, faster then thought, out the kitchen door and into the blackness beyond. Xander sagged, suddenly light-headed, and Oz swore softly.
"What was that, Xander? Is he -?"
"I think...I think what he just did...he rejected Angel...Angel's claim. I think he just needs to go beat the crap out of something. He's - he's all right."
You don't seem too sure about that, Harris. He wouldn't hurt US
Nothing to stop him hurting someone ELSE, though… Fuck, fuck, that was… What the hell WAS that?!
Vampire the hyena grumbled, as if that answered all the questions. Ours And really, it did. It answered them all just fine.
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*
Of course, fifteen minutes later, there were more questions, as Angel stood on the porch, looking in through the screen door that Xander refused to open. Back, like the proverbial bad penny.
"What's he doing here, Xander? I don't understand. I know your feelings about...our kind."
Xander sighed.
"Look. You know about the Initiative - what it did to him. They're still trying to recapture him. They trashed his crypt - they grabbed Oz and tortured him. There's no way they're getting their claws into Spike again. They crippled him, Angel. What they did... At least here he has some protection, if they come. Oz and me can at least stop them long enough for him to get away, if they ever try it."
"He's a killer, Xander - a cold-blooded murderer. You know if that chip were gone, you and Oz would be the first ones to go. Why do you even care?"
"You've done your share of murdering, Angel." Angel flinched, and the hyena yipped in satisfaction. "You think you deserve agony every time you try to feed yourself? What about - if some kid decides he wants your coat - your wallet? Comes at you with a knife. Even I could pick up a board or a brick or something and fight him off - Spike can't even do that! It's torture, Angel." Xander stared hard at the vampire, wondering if Angel could smell the lie. He sincerely hoped not - hoped the vampire mistook any scent that was...off...for stress from the evening's events, or Xander's own dislike of him. Xander wished he wasn't sweating under Angel's scrutiny.
"Nobody deserves that, Angel. It's - revolting. At least before, he had a fighting chance, just like everything else on the planet. Now he doesn't have that. So yeah, he's staying here with me, and I get him human blood because we need him - he's the strongest of all of us except maybe for Buffy, and sometimes he can kill the demons better because he knows more about them. Do you know - he told me he got blacklisted from Willy's? Because he was helping Buffy? Just leave him alone, Angel. He's doing fine here."
"He's playing with you, Xander, can't you see that?" Angel looked genuinely distressed, but Xander really didn't care. He didn't know the full history between the two vampires - wasn't sure he wanted to know. But the feelings that had battered at him, as Spike had confronted Angel - the rage and the hurt, the grinding, hopeless hurt had told him everything he'd needed to know. Angel had done something to Spike - hurt him badly enough to make Spike want to kill him. Therefore, he was no friend of Xander's. If he ever had been. Even the soldier, whose slavish duty to any and all 'authority' figures was sometimes annoying as hell, didn't want anything to do with Angel. Is this what it felt like for Spike, up in Oxnard? I don't want to...KILL... Angel, do I?
It hurt what's ours The hyena had no such doubts.
"Xander -"
"Look, Angel, I'm tired and I have to get up before dawn to go to work. I just want to go to bed." Xander ran his hand back through his hair and stepped up close to the screen door, trying like hell to be calm and to make Angel just go. "Spike and I and Oz ... we're friends. And he's going to stay here as long as he needs to. And if he ever gets that thing out of his head - we'll deal with it then. For now, this is how it is, and I don't need you coming up here and fucking with him. You've done more to hurt the people I love then he ever has - Spike never killed one of us, and you did. So just go home." Xander turned away from the door, and suddenly Angel slammed his fists into the jamb, growling. Xander spun around, startled, and saw Angel glowering at him, game-faced.
"Xander - why do you smell like him? What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?" Angel's fingernails were gouging the wood of the jamb, and Xander glared at him.
"Quit fucking up my house, deadboy. So I smell like him, so what? Living together here."
"No, no - it's more then that. A lot more. You can't do that, Xander. Don't you understand -?"
"I do understand, Angel. You're out of your territory and out of your league here. Go. Home." Xander shut his front door in Angel's face and slipped the chain on, then went back to the kitchen to slump in a chair opposite Oz. Who knew what Angel had sensed - who knew what he would do? At this point, Xander didn't even care. He was worried about Spike, and tired, and just sick of all the bullshit. If they knew what I could see - could FEEL... Fuck - even if I told them I get the feeling they wouldn't want to be convinced. Hellmouth Living - see only what you want to see.
Oz had lit some candles; made himself a big sandwich and a glass of milk and was studiously not noticing that Xander's hands were shaking and that he was close to tears. Xander got up and grabbed a soda and sat back down, then abruptly put his head on the table and thumped it onto the wood a couple of times, groaning.
"Fuck. This is all so - fucked. Oz..." Xander lifted his head, looking up into the calm gaze of the werewolf. "I'm sorry if I kinda - spoke for you, out there. I just wanted him to leave." Oz swallowed his bite of sandwich and rubbed a hand over his hair, making it stick out more wildly then before.
"It's ok, Xander. We're friends. Honestly, I don't know Spike well enough to say, you know, a hundred percent, but he came with you to get me. He didn't have to, and he was in a lot of danger from them..." Oz shuddered slightly and poked at a crust. "Anyway, I don't have anything against him, and I - it's weird, but I trust him. The way you two... I mean, I can't help but see you, you know. " Oz looked up at Xander from behind his lashes and Xander was suddenly and rather forcefully reminded that Oz and Devon were - intimate. Oh fuck. Maybe Spike and I embarrass him or...ah...maybe we DON'T embarrass him. Never thought of that. Damn. I wonder if...
"Oh fuck, Oz, I'm sorry, I didn't - we didn't mean to -"
"No, Xander, it's ok. I'm not - it doesn't bother me. I mean, not like that. You guys are - really in love. Makes me a little...sad, I guess. I was kind of hoping to come back to something like that, myself." Oz smiled wanly, and Xander bit his lip - busied himself opening his soda, wishing there was something he could say. But Oz spoke first.
"That stuff - from before, the ring and - " Oz made a gesture with his hand and Xander nodded.
"Yeah?"
"That stuff was from those guys - up in Oxnard. The ones that jumped you?" Xander turned the soda can in his hands, glancing up to meet Oz's gaze and then away again.
"Yeah. It was." Oz rubbed the grooves in the table, the grooves Spike's nails had left and that Xander had smoothed over.
"Did you...did you want him to do that?" Oz's voice was so quiet, but there was something in it - something - and Xander's gaze snapped back to Oz's face.
"NO. I didn't - I didn't ask him to do that and I didn't want him to. Oz - I don't...I don't know what to do about that." Oz ran his finger down the side of his glass, again and again, concentrating on it.
"Do you really think there's anything you can do about it, Xander?" Those eyes - so calm, and so utterly opaque. Showing nothing. But his voice...
"I - dunno. I don't want him - running around killing people who look sideways at me. I know - I know he's going to go after the Initiative. I'm having a hard time caring about that. But...I think... Fuck, Oz. I dunno. I trust him - I can see him and I can feel him - inside me. He…promised. I think he promised. I don't know what he promised. What - what do you think about that? What he did?" Oz lifted his glass and drank, emptying it, then he touched absently at a mark on his arm; burn-mark, scarred there despite his werewolf constitution.
"Protect the pack, Xander. That's - baseline. You know? Hardwired." His jade-pale gaze flickered over the room - came to rest on Xander. "I know why he did it." Xander held that steady regard as long as he could - nodded finally, and took a long drink of his soda.
"So we're cool, Oz?"
"Yeah."
"Ok. Thanks. I really - I really appreciate you at least trying to - understand."
"Hey, you get bit by your nephew, turn into B-grade Lon Chaney, and have to go to Tibet to get a cure, you start to see things a little…differently." Oz grinned at him suddenly and Xander grinned back, feeling better. Oz's sandwich looked good, so he got up and made one for himself.
They both puttered around, getting ready for Monday. Oz had a couple of job interviews to go to - he was starting to feel uncomfortable not chipping in - and Xander had to be on site early to deal with the usual Monday-morning craziness. Also, Manny wanted to go over some schedules with him as the demon was planning a week away and Xander would be in charge. Forgot all about that. I'm kinda promoted - temporarily - and I'm not even excited right now. Fucking Hellmouth. Fucking Initiative. Can't wait for all this crap to be OVER. They showered and settled into sleep, the kitchen door unlocked for Spike. Xander hated being alone in the bed, and he dozed on and off, waiting.
His alarm woke him, and he automatically slapped it off, and then slumped on the bed as he realized he was still alone. But - the shower's running. Spike? Xander sent a questing thread of love missed you where and received a blast of want want want so strong he gasped. He scrambled out of the bed and into the bathroom and Spike was there, standing under the shower, looking... He looks strange. Something happened tonight. What happened? Xander glanced around. Spike's clothes were in a heap by the washing machine. They were - damp. His duster was hung up on the rack by the outside door, dripping a little puddle of rusty water, and his boots were wet, as well. There was a smear of blood on the door jamb.
"Spike! Are you hurt?" Xander wrenched open the shower door and frantically ran his gaze over and over the lean body under the spray. Nothing. Nothing. He's alright... Spike was leaning against the wall, drops of water caught in his eyelashes, beading along his collarbones, pectorals. He was looking at Xander with the oddest expression.
"Spike - what's going on? Are you ok?"
"Xander..." Spike opened his arms and Xander stepped into them, pulling the shower door shut, pulling the water-warmed body close to his. Spike clung to him, shuddering, and Xander started to kiss him; neck and shoulders, cheekbones and jaw. He dug his fingers into the quivering back and kneaded the muscles there, trying to soothe him.
"Love, it's all right, please tell me...tell me what I can do...Spike..." Spike lifted his head and Xander looked into his eyes; bruise-blue, wide and fear anger sorrow sorrow so strong.
"What, love, what - please tell me."
"He's not my Sire." Spike whispered. He looked down - back up. "He never really was, but... I rejected him. I left him. And he left...mm-me. Let me go...didn't even try... Gone for good, now."
"He wasn't doing anything for you, Spike. It'll be all right love, promise." Spike only stared at him, his expression lost and so sad, and Xander pulled him closer and kissed him. Tried, with his kiss, to show all his love and all his desire and all his trust. mine forever love you. Spike let him, standing so still, and then after a moment he began to kiss back, his passion mounting and the kiss becoming something more - something fiercer and more possessive. And yours yours washing through and through Xander like static electricity; tingling along his nerves, sparking fire in his groin. He moaned into the kiss and Spike was turning, putting his hands on the wall, opening his legs, and Xander leaned against him, covering the vampire's body with his own, hands to hands and Xander's lips on Spike's neck, gentle kisses.
"Xander..." need want
"What do you need, Spike? Tell me."
"C-claim me - make me yours, Xander, please - have to be..."
"Always mine, love..." Xander whispered, but his hands were moving - getting a palmful of liquid soap, slicking himself and then gently beginning to make Spike ready. Spike pushed back against him, his head down between his arms, his arms shaking.
"No, love - just do it - take me. Need to feel it, love, please...please..."
"But I'll hurt you -"
"Need it - won't hurt - please... " and please please need you so strong, so desperate.
Do this. Do this for him, his way. Make it right, Harris The hyena whined agreement, wanting as badly as Spike did, and Xander closed his eyes for a brief moment, and leaned in and kissed the side of Spike's neck. Then he took a deep breath, and forced his way into Spike's tense, unprepared body. Spike cried out, flinching, but pushing back, welcoming the pain that Xander could feel - it hummed under the need need need that Spike was sending and made Xander bite his lip hard, hating what he was doing. Knowing Spike wanted it - could take it. But I don't have to like it. Fucking Angel. Xander began to thrust, as hard as he could, gasping as Spike thrust back. Xander felt the viselike grip of the vampire's body ease just slightly and realized with sudden shock that Spike was...
"Spike - fuck - you're bleeding -"
"S'all right...Xander...yours?" There was the tiniest questioning note in that word, and Xander swiftly put his arms around Spike's body, hugging him as tight as he could, stroking into the shivering body, sending out mine mine love you making it count, making Spike feel every particle of love Xander had for him - every bit of desire and need.
As he pounded into Spike, he let one hand slide lower, to grasp and stroke Spike's erection, wanting them to end this together. Spike was moaning now, gasping harshly, bending further so that Xander could get closer - harder.
And what he was pushing through the link... Xander shuddered under it - the unbelievable feelings of love, desire, utter surrender, the need, so strong, to give and belong and be a part of. Mirroring Xander's own feelings - everything the hyena wanted, everything Xander wanted - to belong, to have some connection outside his own head. Xander understood these feelings - understood them suddenly in a much clearer way then he ever had, and his own desire suddenly doubled. This was right - this was pack, and belonging, and this was vampire ours sealed in blood.
Xander pulled Spike upright, threading the fingers of his free hand through the pale hair and wrenching Spike's head to the side. He ran his tongue up the tense length of Spike's neck - thrust a little faster, knowing he was hitting the deep place, feeling it reverberate through Spike's body physically and through the link. Then he bit as hard as he could, savage - tearing the pale skin, going for blood.
Spike let out a sound like a howl, like a scream, his hands scrabbling on the wall, his body arching into a fierce and immediate orgasm. The blood was shockingly crimson on his shoulder, and Xander lapped at it - sucked on the wound and bit again, not quite as hard, his own orgasm leaving him breathless. MINE and "Mine, you're mine, always mine, Spike, claim you, want you... " Spike sagged against the wall, gasping, and Xander wrapped both arms around him and just held him, rubbing his hands over and over the quivering muscles, murmuring into his ear, kissing gently now at the livid mark he'd made.
"Love you, Spike," Xander whispered, and Spike leaned his head back on Xander's shoulder, turning his face to kiss him.
"Love you...Xander, love you." His smile was small and fragile, and Xander's heart ached for him. He pulled gently away, hating the shudder that ran through the vampire as he came free of Spike's body. Oh, blood, on me, on him...fuck...love you sorry sorry
"Don't be sorry, love, " Spike murmured, and Xander got soap and began to wash him, sluicing the stained foam away and getting more, going so slowly and so gently, biting his lip until it bled.
"I'm am sorry, Spike - can't change that." Xander turned Spike around to face him, getting more soap, roughly cleaning the blood off his own body, hating it.
"I love you, Spike - I don't want to hurt you."
"Didn't hurt," Spike said, eyes closed, and Xander took Spike's shoulders in his hands and shook him just a little.
"It did, love. I could feel it, remember?" Spike's eyes opened wide at that, and Xander smiled at him. "I could feel it. But I could feel - why, Spike. I could feel that too. I know why. I'm still sorry. Never want to hurt you." Spike's eyes were darkly blue, still so wide, so hurt, and Xander had a sudden thought, and he tipped his head.
"Spike - take a little. Drink, love. Claim me, too." please love you yours always The blue flashed to gold, and Xander watched the rearrangement of flesh and bone with fascination. Then Spike was pressing his mouth to Xander's throat, and the fangs slipped in, gentle, so smooth, a ripple of fiery delight coursing over Xander's body. Spike drank the merest swallow - licked the wound gently and leaned back onto the wall, human again.
"You are...amazing, love." Xander touched the mark he'd made on Spike's throat. It was already less sore-looking. Not so livid. Heals fast now - back to full strength, like he said... Xander gathered Spike into a hard hug, want need and the purr growl rattled out of Spike's chest, low and stuttering, infinitely soothing, dying away too fast.
"Gotta go to work, Spike. Sorry."
"I know. It's alright." Murmured into his hair, soft lips on his neck. Another minute and they got out of the shower, drying off slowly, Xander rubbing his towel through Spike's hair, Spike drying Xander's back and planting little kisses all along his spine as he did.
"Ohh, Spike...fuck...don't wanna go to work, just wanna stay here with you." Xander turned and caught Spike's mouth in a hard kiss, probing deeply. Blood, smoke, spice ... the best, oh the best taste... "Can't get enough of you." Spike shivered, kissing Xander back; forehead and eyes and nose and cheeks, jaw and chin, down his throat. Xander rested his hands on Spike's hips and pulled away the tiniest bit, making Spike look up at him.
"You all right, Spike?" Spike looked at him, his eyes shimmering gold for a moment, and then he sighed and leaned his head on Xander's shoulder, arms around Xander's waist.
"I'm all right, pet. Just - never been... I've always had somebody, you know? Always had the bloody Family. Now they're gone. Darla's been gone forever, and Penn. Then Dru... now Angelus... I just feel - queer. On my own." Spike looked back up at him, and Xander smiled a little, touching Spike's solemn, down-turning lips.
"Not on your own, you know. I'm here. I'm not - your Sire, not anything really, except...yours."
"You're everything, Xander. Everything." Spike kissed him, hard, and the love love love that came with it was almost overwhelming in its strength and need. God - can I do this? Can I be enough? Please let me be enough...love you yours
"Fuck. I really need to get ready. You gonna be ok here today? I could be sick -" Spike laughed softly, pushing Xander's hair back off his forehead, petting his hands through it.
"No, love. You go on. I'm knackered - gonna sleep 'til you come home, I reckon."
"All right." Xander peered at him - did his own hair-mussing, grinning. "Love the manga look, Spike. You really should quit with the hair-gel."
"'S my trademark look, pet."
"Yeah, but...this is so..."
"Poufy?" Xander laughed, pushing past him to grab his comb.
"No - it's just...makes you look less...hard, I guess. Looks like you do in bed with me." Spike slipped up behind him, putting his arms around Xander's waist and leaning his chin on Xander's shoulder.
"That's just for you, love. I'm the Big Bad to everyone else. Right?" Xander rubbed his head on Spike's, sighing. Watching his solitary reflection in the mirror. So strange - a little scary. Xander put his hand up, to touch Spike's cheek, wanting confirmation that the mirror couldn't give him.
"Yeah - can't let 'em know the Big Bad has a soft spot for the carpenter. Would ruin the whole evil undead rep." Spike kissed Xanders' neck and Xander just rested there a moment. Then he forced himself to finish with his hair, brush his teeth. Spike was behind him the whole time, hands on his shoulders, on his hips, and Xander felt the need and wished he could stay. He turned around finally and pointed to the clothes on the floor - the duster that was dripping blood-tinged water and the smear of it on the door jamb.
"We'll talk about that when I get home. Right?" Spike cocked his head at him, the link going silent, and Xander shivered.
"Whatever you want, pet." Xander kissed him swiftly and then walked into the bedroom and got dressed, hurrying now, almost late. Spike curled himself into the bedclothes, hugging Xander's pillow, and when Xander finally left he was asleep.
Looks younger then me, sometimes. But he's seen firelight go to electric light and |