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Part 36 |
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It was, in fact, a long week. But a dance floor, spiralling lights, throbbing beat and a few beers had a way of turning things around. So did having two friends that understood and another who was gradually learning the benefits of taking a step back. Dawn finished her drink and edged into the melee, tracking down Xander, grinning at the way he could still mindlessly throw himself into his dancing and cut out the rest of the world. She muscled in and he finally noticed her in the laser-strobed darkness, eyes sparkling as he swept her into a spin and enjoyed the sight of her laughter. She tried to tell him of the latest developments but the music was just too loud and Xander’s concentration too scattered; Let him find out for himself, she decided, and shimmied away. Xander felt the tingle and slowed while he analysed it: the old sixth sense was a pain in the ass and maybe another beer or four would dull it down so he could forget for a few hours… A strong arm slid around his waist from behind, and he finally understood what Dawn had been trying to say. He started to pant from sheer exhilaration, grinding back against the hard body of his lover as they found a slow, sensual rhythm at odds with the pounding beat, turning his head until Spike’s lips touched his ear. Lips that waited for a lull in the music. “Xander…” he breathed, grip tightening, feeling Xander’s fingernails dig sharply, possessively into his arm. “Missed you, love.” Xander squirmed around within his grasp, burying his hands in Spike’s hair and pulling him into an urgent kiss that seemed to last and last, songs coming and going, and finally Xander drew back to look at his vampire, greedily drinking in the sight of him. Had it really only been a week? “You look great.” “What?” The music had grown impossibly loud. Xander shook his head, taking Spike by the hand and tugging him through the crowd and out into the frigid night air, not stopping until they found a little private niche at the rear of the building. They pressed together, holding and caressing. “I said, you look great.” “Yeah, I’m okay. ‘Cept for the pig’s blood,” Spike shuddered. “If I’m with Angel much longer I’ll need to find a decent supplier.” “ “Yeah? I’ll have a word before I go.” No, no, no, not go not go not go. “Sleeping well?” “Angel’s been using the hex. After the first nightmare he understood better what he was dealing with and decided on a bit of the old hocus-pocus.” “You’re happy with that? I mean, you trust him?” “He’s my sire, of course I trust him.” A grin broke through the vampire’s serious expression. “You have no choice,” Xander muttered coldly. “I have no choice,” Spike concurred, quickly moving on before Xander could get into one of his Angel-is-a- bastard snits. “What about you? You look tired.” “I don’t sleep too well without you.” “I’ll be home soon.” “Without the chip?” “Not this time around. But we’ve made a start. What? What’s that face for?” “Just jealous. I hate it when you say ‘we’ and you’re not talking about us.” “As if you have to worry,” Spike murmured, kissing Xander’s neck. “Mmm, you taste so good, wanna eat you all up.” “Let’s go back to “Want me, Xander?” “You have no idea.” “Think I may,” Spike corrected as his hand ran over the gloriously hard erection that was straining at Xander’s jeans and squeezed. He smothered Xander’s groan with his mouth, busying himself with undoing belt and fly and coaxing Xander’s cock past his boxers. Then he was on his knees, swallowing Xander whole, feeling his own arousal soar at the unique taste of his lover and the sweet nonsensical sounds Xander made as the clever mouth teased and pleasured. A few minute’s intensive suction, the touch of Spike’s hands kneading balls and buttocks through disarranged cloth, and Xander was coming, grasping at the wall behind him to keep himself upright. “Oh…wow,” he eloquently gasped. “Mmm-mm,” Spike agreed. Eager hands on Spike’s shoulders drew him back to his feet, and breathy kisses claimed his mouth as impatient fingers scrabbled over buttons. “I thought you were giving up on these damn flies.” “Apparently the boyfriend likes them. Here, let me.” “If I get a say I want you in a kilt from now on.” Spike chuckled, only to have the sound suppressed by another kiss and a satisfied groan as Xander knocked the vampire’s hands away and pushed past the unfastened denim to get at his prize. “Better,” Xander murmured against Spike’s lips. “Better, better, better,” as he wrapped his surprisingly warm hands around the cool length and stroked lovingly. “Missed you, Spike.” “Yes,” Spike acknowledged, voice hitching in need. “Can you just…” With much the same speed that Spike had used, Xander dropped his mouth from lips to cock in one fell swoop. He also reciprocated Spike’s insistent movements, understanding the want, need, now mentality after weeks of no contact, and it wasn’t long before Spike was folding over him, one chilly hand clasping onto a shoulder, the other curling gently around the back of Xander’s head. “Yes, love. Please, love. Yessssss…” Xander swallowed repeatedly as his throat was flooded by cold semen, letting the action spark memories that shot bolts of heat through his body. He felt Spike begin to fall and, sitting back on his heels, guided the floppy body down to straddle his lap, watching hungrily as Spike languidly pulled the neck of his t-shirt aside and offered himself. Xander studied the faded scar momentarily before fastening on it, biting down hard and renewing his claim mark while Spike whispered hoarsely of his love and devotion, jerking into another orgasm caused by the exquisite pleasure of the pain, the knowledge of belonging wholly to this man. … “What do you mean, we’re going?”
Spike demanded of Angel as the friends gathered back at “I told you, only a few hours.” “You’re joking!” “No.” “Well, you can just fuck off without me. I’m staying with Xander.” “Spike, there’s somewhere we have to go tonight.” “Why tonight?” “Don’t question me. Just for once, can’t you accept I know what’s best and do what you’re told?” “No.” “Spike…” “Stay out of this, Xander.” Xander raised his hands in surrender and turned his back on the glowering vampires. “What?” Spike sighed. “I’m staying out of this.” “What?” “Angel, can you…?” With a nod, the older vampire left to join the rest of their friends who were tactfully hiding in the kitchen. “What?” “Spike… If you’re going to do this with Angel you have to get on with it.” “I want one night with you, is that unreasonable?” “No, it’s not. But I want thousands of nights with you and I don’t think I’m going to have that unless you get help. And, much as I hate it, it looks like Angel is the one doing the helping right now.” “You’re the one I need,” Spike insisted, rushing to Xander and firmly embracing him. “Right now, it’s you.” “We’re strong. We can cope with this.” “It’s not about coping, it’s about having.” Spike’s voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “You bring anything along on this trip? Anything…slippy?” “Yes, I did.” “So…expecting me? Or think you were going to get lucky at the party?” For a shocking moment Spike thought Xander was going to hit him, but the fury that flared in the dark eyes was quickly suppressed and fists loosened. “I was hoping for you. Angel dropped a few hints to Willow,” Xander explained, anger bubbling beneath a surface of enforced calm. “You prepared to give up on that hope?” “How can you think I’d be looking for someone else?” “Joke, pet. Joke?” “Not funny. Did you miss something here? Like five fucking years of misery? If I’d wanted someone else…” Spike pulled Xander close and scattered kisses on his face. “Don’t be angry. Just want me enough to tell Angel to fuck off. He’ll listen to you.” “He said there’s somewhere you have to go,” Xander reminded Spike, mellowing fast but trying not to be swayed by the kisses and the oh-so desirable body in his arms. “But tonight?” “There must be a reason. Thanksgiving, everyone’s preoccupied…” “Why tonight?” “That’s the curse of Thanksgiving. It tends to fall on Thanksgiving.” “Xander…” “Just do it, all right? Get this over with and come home to me. Come home.” Spike considered, nodded, shared a sad, resolved kiss with Xander before stepping away and calling tetchily. “Okay, Grandpa, we hitting the road or what?” … Physically in the car with Angel, mentally someplace else with Xander, Spike paid no attention to where they went or how long it took. The smoochy, warm flashback was rudely interrupted by Angel’s impatient voice and Spike opened his eyes to find they were parked in the middle of a forest clearing. “If we’re here to snog I have to warn you I’m taken.” “There’s a tunnel entrance…” Angel gestured, “…that we need to break into.” “Where are we going?” “You’ll see when we get there.” “On a scale of ‘oh, dear’ to ‘fuck me sideways!’, how big a nasty is this going to be?” “You’ll see. Come on.” They left the car and headed toward the entrance. “It better be earth-shatteringly remarkable, I’m warning you. Dragging me away from Xander. Did you take a look at him? You’d have to be dead from the waist down to walk away from him without a single regret. Then again, look who I’m talking to.” “Spike?” “Oh, right.” Spike took a firm hold of the grate and at Angel’s nod they both heaved. Feeling the resistance they both automatically morphed into their true forms and exploited the full strength of their demons. The grating creaked and came free in a shower of rust and dirt. Spike followed Angel into the conduit, taking a deep breath to scent the place and grimacing at the stench of putrefying rodents. “Stop growling.” “We’re going to smell like this place for days. Weeks. You might’ve warned me to Scotchguard myself before we came out.” “We’ll both smell the same; we won’t notice it.” “That is the lamest argument since—” “Since?” “Can’t use that particular example: Xander wouldn’t like it. I’m learning to be discreet,” Spike chuckled. “He’s a bad influence.” They walked in silence for a few hundred yards, Spike fixing his senses on Angel in a bid to smother the panic and claustrophobia brought about by the dark. “You really care for him.” “What?” “Xander. You really care for him.” “There’s a clunking great understatement if ever I heard one. Course I care for him, I bloody love him to bits.” “I wondered if maybe…” “Maybe what?” “He was…convenient.” “Fuck off.” “You’ve got to admit you landed on your feet there.” “I wanted him when he had nothing. I’d still want him if he lost everything overnight. Besides, I told you years ago how I felt.” “But that might have been you wanting what you couldn’t have.” “Oh, right, you thought I was going through a phase like some angst-riddled teenybopper,” Spike’s voice rose with his irritation. “Keep it down.” “More like you wanted me to pass him over so you could have him.” “Spike…” “Well, he’s never going to look twice at you, is he? Sees you as the vast, damp dollop of shit that sold me out to some hulking great demon that pulled me to pieces and rummaged in my gizzards.” “Will you be…” “And he hangs on to seething resentment better than any demon I’ve ever known. Sod the fact you were saving the entire population of Sunnyhell, when it comes to his honey getting hurt…” “Quiet!” They stopped outside a large circular vent, listening carefully. After a few minutes Angel nodded for Spike to help him open the outlet, and they were soon moving within a building’s ventilation system. Angel led Spike unerringly on, ignoring his childe’s unhappy protests, until he pushed open a panel in the wall of the conduit and clambered out. Spike followed and gazed around the dimly lit area; it took a second for his eyesight to adjust after the total darkness and then he was taking in the dishevelled scene before him. And behind the acrid smell of a recent explosion was a sickeningly familiar scent. Which he suddenly recognised as the memories swept through him. Spike leapt back toward the vent with a cry of anguish, frustratingly caught by Angel who had been expecting the move, finding himself in an inflexible grip, arms pinned to his sides. Angel winced and growled as a flailing boot made contact and cracked his shin bone, but he kept a firm hold of his wildly thrashing, terrified, childe. His childe, who pleaded ceaselessly for Xander in desperate, broken tones. Angel called Spike’s name several times before realising that words were pointless, and a deep rumble began in his chest, growing stronger by the second until Angel felt the struggles lessen, Spike gradually falling still as the long lost comfort of his sire’s purr permeated his body. Instead of escaping, Spike became more concerned with preserving contact with the source of his consolation and he pushed back against Angel. “Don’t let them have me,” he pleaded in a hopeless voice. “Angelus. Sire.” “They don’t get to have you ever again. Take a good look, Will. Open your mind and take a good, long look at this place.” The shaking and panting intensified as Spike fought to obey his sire, trying to see past the ghosts and the fear. “It’s over for them. This is where they died. Can’t you smell their death? Taste it in the air?” Spike forced himself to calm down so he could do as he was told. Yes: death. He nodded, and Angel released his grip slightly, causing Spike to squirm back against him until he restored the bone-creaking pressure. Spike looked. He saw the remains of the cell where he was kept for so long, could still smell his own blood but now the scent mingled with that of his captors. Control room, viewing gallery, punishment cell. Bench, straps, shackles, pliers, wrenches, scalpels, acid, fire, ice, blind, crippled, pain, pain, painpainpainpainpain… Spike roared, releasing his fury and his misery, feeling the arms holding him slip away to allow him to surge forward, demon to the fore, as he flew into a destructive rampage. Angel watched, outwardly impassive, inwardly rejoicing as his childe tore the vestiges of his prison to shreds.
Breathing heavily, hands bloody, shaking from the exertion, Spike eventually returned to Angel, resuming his earlier position without question or reservation, pressing back against Angel’s body and waiting for the embrace which also came without question or reservation. They viewed the scene, both in deep thought. “For me?” Spike asked shakily when the introspection became too much to bear. “You did it for me?” “Well, Xander told me to, and we both know it’s impossible to argue with Xander nowadays.” “You did this for me? Sire?” Angel nuzzled the short blond hair. “They defiled you, Childe. Such a fast death was too good for them, but necessity is the mother…” “…of a lack of invention. I know.” “On this occasion.” A long pause. “Thank you.” “That’s hardly Spike, is it?” “Umm… You killed them for me; I should bloody-well hope so too?” “Better,” Angel smiled, running his mouth down the back of Spike’s neck. “What’s the other smell? I can’t place it.” “Nerve gas. I didn’t take any chances, I wanted to kill them all.” “Don’t challenge Xander’s claim,” Spike advised quietly, waiting tensely for Angel to stop peppering his nape with light kisses, knowing that if Angel claimed sire’s rights in repayment for murdering his torturers he would not be able to refuse, and the cycle of hating his sire would begin all over again. One final, platonic kiss on the back of Spike’s head and Angel released his childe. “Let’s get out of this charnel house.” Back in the pitch black of the conduit Spike started to panic, but before it could become a full-blown attack Angel’s hand reached out and took his. Already stooped to adjust to the confined space, the younger vampire bowed his head further to avoid his sire’s eyes but didn’t relinquish the hold. Neither did he attempt to stop the tears of relief that streamed over his cheeks: he had survived, they had not. Deep inside him the void had shrunk a little and, for the first time since he’d returned from captivity, he was prepared to consider a full recovery instead of accepting the scraps of an unlife that had been tossed his way. As ever, all his thoughts led back to Xander and he smiled through his tears. Maybe he could be worthy, could claim the human as his Consort. “You told Xander he was family.” “Yes.” “I haven’t claimed him yet.” “Maybe not in the traditional sense, but when did you ever do anything traditionally?” “You accept him then?” “I do. He’s grown into an admirable man.” “Make one hell of a vampire.” “But you’re not…” “No. Unless he asks.” Spike paused thoughtfully. “He’s not going to ask.” “I wouldn’t really expect him to.” “I’ll lose him. What’ll I do when I lose him?” “I’ll be there for you.” Pause. “Now I’ve got that fucking song stuck in my head,” suddenly burst out of Spike. “You know that always happens to me and you did it on purpose, you dipstick. Was there ever a time you didn’t hate me?” Angel sighed to himself. “Can’t think of one right now.” … “Xander…” “Buffy.” “What if the removal of Spike’s chip has the same effect as Angel losing his soul?” “Then you get to stake vamp Xander and the boyfriend.” “And you’re…okay with that?” “Sure. I forgive you in advance.” “I appreciate that.” “You’re welcome.” Pause. Not the nicest smile Buffy had ever seen. “Of course…you’d have to catch us first.”
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