|
|
|||
|
||||
|
|
|
Part 89 |
|
|
|
|||||||||||||
|
|
|
When Spike woke the
following afternoon he immediately rose and went looking for Xander; still
horny as hell after going without for too long, one late night session wasn’t
going to do more than rev up his engine.
He intended to have Xander wherever he found him so he pulled on his
robe, slipped a tube of lubricant into the pocket, and went in search of his
prey. Xander was sitting
on the bench in the garden, and as Spike peered through the half-open blinds he
grumbled to himself about inaccessibility, raising a hand to knock on the
glass. He froze in place, staring at
Xander, at Xander’s body language: that was not a happy man. Sometimes Xander
just…knows. Spike snatched his
hand back and remained in panicked stillness as the ‘How could he know?’ raced
repeatedly through his mind, leaving him without an answer but certain that
something was very wrong. Maybe it’s nothing to do with me. Maybe he’s still sad about his folks, there
was a lot of that before… The
cleaning, the demon, the madness.
William. LA. He knows.
He knows what I did. Oh
fuck. Gonna kill Angel. Spike knocked
sharply on the glass, wanting Xander inside, readying a cache of lies and
preparing to work on Xander’s guilt if necessary, because it was one of his
human’s greatest vulnerabilities, the fact he was perpetually feeling guilty
over one thing or another. No reaction. Spike pulled open the door, standing back
from the stream of sunlight but remaining where Xander could see him. “Xander,” he
called. Xander glanced around, barely
able to meet Spike’s eyes, giving a quick shake of the head and looking away
again. “You don’t fucking ignore your
Master!” Spike responded instantly and instinctively, witnessing Xander’s body
tense at the tone. He still made no
move. “If you don’t get in here now I
will break every pane of glass in the conservatory. And then I will break every window in the
house.” He was confident
that Xander wouldn’t be prepared to face that trauma again, and was proved
right as Xander reluctantly stood and stiltedly walked to the door, coming
inside and closing it behind him. “Hey, Spike.” “Hello, lovely,”
Spike replied with a smile, all sweetness now he had what he wanted, and
determined not to admit to a thing before he was called on it. His step toward Xander was met by a
corresponding step back. Spike sighed in
exasperation. “Come on, Xan, haven’t we
danced this dance once too often?” “How can you—” Xander broke off abruptly and headed into the
house. He knows.
He knows what I did. Oh fuck. Spike followed
Xander to the living room, waiting with faux patience to be told what the
problem was. Xander stared blindly at
the wall, heart pounding, trying to find the right words. “Don’t suppose you’d
like to fuck me while we’re waiting for the main event?” Spike asked lightly. “You can’t possibly
mean that.” He knows.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Spike took a first,
unconscious breath. “We said last night,
didn’t we? About doing stupid things,
about stupid things being forgivable.” “I didn’t think at
the time, what you were saying, but… I
know, Spike. I figured it out. We both know.” “You can’t know, Xander, you might…suspect.” “Don’t treat me like
an idiot, I know, Spike, I know.” “But… It’s forgivable, love, if we can talk…” “How could you?” “Xander…” “How could you begin
to forgive me?” “Look, I—” Spike snatched back any further words in the
current line of thought. Forgive
Xander? Why did he have to forgive
Xander? Unless, while he was away… “Come and sit down
with me,” Spike firmly instructed, sitting at one end of the sofa as Xander sat
uncomfortably at the other. He played
with the right questions and appropriate delivery, not wanting to give away
their few minutes at cross purposes.
“Why, exactly, can’t I forgive you?” Xander gave a
humourless laugh. “Who the fuck are
you? Where’s my Spike?” “This is your
Spike. Let’s get this over with so you
can prove it for yourself.” Brow creasing in
pain, Xander was up and away again, back turned to Spike. “I’m unfaithful to
you and…” “No!” The denial leapt from Spike before he could
even register the full implication. “Don’t make this
worse, please. Please, Spike,” Xander
begged. “Worse?” Spike
repeatedly rigidly, barely able to retain control when he wanted to grab Xander
and beat every fucking detail out of him. “I didn’t get it at the time, too busy thinking with my dick
instead of my brain, but I figured it out.
You said I loved you to make you whole.
It was William, wasn’t it? I made
love to William. I was unfaithful to you
with the person that would hurt you most.
I’ve known that I did something wrong, I’ve just had this feeling. I…I even wanted you to go away so I wouldn’t
have to face it.” Weakened by relief, Spike nevertheless shot to his feet and
across the room to Xander, pulling him into his arms. “It’s all right, love.” “No. I betrayed you.” “It was my choice.” Xander eased back and gazed at Spike in disbelief. “It really happened?”
Spike nodded and watched as Xander’s eyes filled. “I can’t believe I did that to you, what the
fuck was wrong with me?” “You didn’t do it to me, I did it to you. I made the choice. In the end it was entirely up to me,
and… I didn’t mind, Xander, I promise.” “Why?” “Because he deserved you.
You deserved to have him. The two
of you…you were in love.” “No.” “Trust me. At that
point in time you were in love with one another.” “It’s you I’m in love with, it’s always been you.” “I can’t explain how it was.
The person you were when it happened is not the person you are now. Something was affecting you, influencing you,
and all you wanted was William. I was
losing you, Xander, and if it had to be to anyone, I wanted it to be to him.” “It must have hurt you so much.” Spike frowned as he tried to recreate the feelings. “Not hurt, no.
Nothing negative, in fact.
William and I were so close then and…
It was… I can’t explain how it
felt but, no, it didn’t hurt. And you
came back, this you, and you wanted me again.
That’s all that really mattered to me.” Xander let Spike sit him down again. “The person I was?” he eventually asked as he tried to
process everything he’d been told. “You, but not you.
Like the dimension-shifting Star Trek you,” Spike smiled. “I don’t understand.” “I didn’t either. I
was so bloody confused all I could do was put it down to another piece of the
weirdness. But you fu…making love with
William was the cure.” “I can’t believe you’re okay with this.” “It happened, and then I had you again. That’s all I wanted. As a bonus you made me whole.” “How?” “You claimed William.
For us, not just for you, that’s what you told him. You claimed him for us. At last he felt he belonged, and we…came
together.” Spike smirked. “And it actually was when we came together.” “I betrayed you.” “The PTSD was his, y’know?
That’s why only he could control it.
Deep retreat meant leaving all the negative emotions behind – that’s why
I’d always try to hide there.
It’s…nice. Peaceful.” Spike’s voice was wistful; he paused in
thought for a moment. Then he shook off
the memory and got on with what he was saying.
“He worked so hard at protecting me from the worst of the truth, but
when he tried to withdraw he’d leave uncensored memories in the consciousness
that we both shared. He’d also leave the
raw fear that went with them. The demon
would panic because it – because I –
didn’t know how to cope, how to quell them.
We needed to be integrated so I had it all – the knowledge and the
control. You claimed him, and you
brought us together.” Spike smiled fondly. “He was so bloody strong, y’know. Stronger than me. And he let me remember: the first time him
and the demon were made whole. It was
because of Angelus. Only with Angelus it
was their mutual hatred of him, this time it was the shared love of you.” “Stop trying to make it sound…” “What?
Acceptable? Necessary?” “However you look at it I betrayed you.” “And I used you. I used you, but I’m not about to apologise
for it.” “I never told you…
That first time with William… I
never regretted it, I couldn’t find it in myself to regret it. I thought it was you. I cared for him and I wanted him and it
brought you back and I love you more than life.” “You think I don’t know all that?” “You do?” “And I think it leaves us even. You brought me back by whatever means, I did
the same to you. We both got what we
wanted so why should we regret it? Don’t
regret it, love, any of it.” “Are you…” Xander’s voice cracked; he pulled it back
together. “Are you going to leave me?” Spike smiled again, kinder, reassuring. “Never.” A moment for that to sink in and Xander folded into Spike’s
embrace. “Can I tell you something?” Spike murmured into his
hair. Xander nodded, and let himself be
drawn closer. “Seven years ago…” “Oh, no,” Spike heard Xander whisper, and held him tighter
still. “Seven years isn’t long for a vampire, nothing more than a
twitch in time; I remember seven years ago like it was yesterday. I was happy.
Chipped, yeah, fighting for the wrong side, maybe, but I was happy. I had friends, a home. I had you.
For the first time in over a century I felt like I belonged. So content that when it was all taken away I
gave up.” Xander sat up and kissed Spike hard. “If I could go back…” “Well, you can’t, so behave and listen.” Xander slumped back down against Spike’s
chest, eyes closing as fingers stroked through his hair. “I got taken in, I wasn’t alone, or
abandoned. Still had friends but it
didn’t feel like they mattered any more, when what – who – I’d lost was… My
soulmate. Which is a daft fancy for a
soulless demon, but this demon was always full of daft fancies.” “Your soulmate,” Xander said softly, trying it out. “I’d lost him.” Spike
kissed the top of Xander’s head, inhaled the scent until he felt strong enough
to continue. “I remember sitting in that
room, a nice room that “I can’t listen to this,” Xander insisted, sitting up,
smothering Spike’s potential words with kisses. Sombre mood broken, Spike chuckled as he prised Xander away. “Let me say it. What
the drivel was getting to.” “You wanted me to fuck you, let’s…” Xander slid the vampire’s robe open, dipping to lick from
neck to sternum. “I don’t need better incentive to make this fast.” Xander looked up again. “Is it going to be painful?” “I don’t know.”
Xander waited in fearful anticipation.
“My options in this life are you or that misery. I will never leave you, Xander. Even if you doubt us, never doubt my
selfishness. I want you, and I am
staying by your side, wherever you take us, to the day you tire of me and end
my existence.” “Not going to happen.” “What if I’ve changed again, Xander? I don’t know how you’ll be with me now.” “You’ve always been my Spike, always will be.” In a rapid move, Xander was up and pulling
Spike to his feet, kissing him as they shuffled toward the door. “Taking you to bed to prove it.” “Be honest with me, when you decide…” “Soulmate.” Spike gave in to the pressure of Xander’s attention,
reciprocating the passionate kisses, pressing his body into the hot hands that
skimmed over his flesh. “Do you mind a soulless soulmate?” “Nuh-uh,” Xander said against Spike’s neck before he
fastened on with his teeth, grazing but not breaking the skin, easily holding
Spike up as his knees buckled. “Bite me,” Spike groaned, “do it.” “When I’m in you.
Or…” “What?” Spike asked distractedly, taking his own weight
again and, beginning to tear the clothes from Xander’s body. “You ready, sweetheart?
Can you fuck me?” Spike stopped mid-shirt.
He thought before giving Xander a simple: “No.” “But…” “If it’s going to happen it’ll happen. No promises.” “You’re clean, Spike.” “But not worthy.” “That’s ridiculous.” “You’ll know when I am,” Spike grinned. “Your knees around your ears and an arse that
feels like it’s died and gone to bum heaven will be the clue.” That was enough to disperse the sudden tension; Xander
laughed. “Be worthy soon. Bum
heaven sounds like my kinda place.” “Doing my best, love.
Now…how about helping me pay a visit to the only heaven I’ll ever get
to.” Brown eyes darkened to black, breathing deepened. “Want me, baby?” Xander enquired, provocatively enough to
drive any other thought from Spike’s mind.
He threw off the robe and fell onto the sofa, ready to perform the full
christening ceremony on the soft leather.
Xander was soon naked and with him, teasing his mark and languidly
pulling on the vampire’s leaking cock.
“Oh, yeah. I think you want me.” Spike leant over the edge of the sofa and scrabbled about in
his discarded robe for the lubricant, and Xander recognised the mood: finding
it would count as sufficient foreplay.
Spike opened the tube and squeezed a small amount into Xander’s hand. “Not enough.” “Please, love.” “You want me to be sore for hours and not able to…” Spike squeezed out some more. “That’s better, you’re a… You still going to go all silly when I call
you a good vampire?” “I never go
silly.” “That’d be a shame. I
kinda liked that.” Xander snuggled
close, mouth to Spike’s ear, slicked hand drifting to open Spike up. As his fingers teased and entered, Xander
crooned: “Oh, you are, you’re a good vampire, you’re Xander’s sweetheart and
you’re so good.” Spike instantly
responded to the adoring words, nuzzling back as his body shimmied under
Xander’s weight, finding the best position in which to offer himself. “You’re so good, so perfect.” The soft, impatient whine that Xander’s words had instigated
came to a sudden halt when Spike was hit by the knowledge that he was not a
good vampire, he was a bad, very bad vampire.
Certainly imperfect. Making Xander
into a liar. He smothered Xander’s
further words with a hard kiss as he pulled him into position. “Fuck me, Xander, get on with it and fuck me.” Xander looked a little surprised at the terseness. He hoped this was Spike playing Big Bad, not
a sign of things to come. “You okay, sweetheart?” One endearment and Spike’s insecurity evaporated. He’d let Xander tell him he was good and
perfect, he’d even let himself believe it to keep Xander happy. He was a Master, he could make up his own
rules. He could be bad and still be
good. He smiled at Xander before
spinning them, leaving Xander gasping and laughing at the speed. “I seem to be okay, love.” He positioned himself as rapidly and sank down on Xander’s
cock, feeling his lover flinch at the indelicacy but not stopping until he was
full of Xander’s heat. He began an
immediate rise and fall, fast, breathtakingly fast, and Xander was too slow to
fuck him back so he pushed up and angled, giving Spike the best stimulation as
Spike gave him the best ride. It felt
like it was over before it started, both so desperate for this contact that
restraint was pointless and worthless.
Xander saw the merest hint of the demon’s face before Spike firmly
controlled his features and that was enough to send him bucking into his
release, seizing Spike’s cock as he did so, and with a couple of rough pumps
Spike was howling with pleasure and shooting over Xander’s chest. Xander bent his legs to give Spike something to lean on and
the vampire slumped back, closing his eyes for a few minutes before his
breathing stopped and he sat up and stretched, collapsing out of it with a
laugh when Xander prodded him in the ribs.
He dipped further to lick his semen from Xander’s skin, savouring the
combination of flavours. “Your face,” Xander said softly. “You can let me see your face.” “When I choose to.” “’Cause, y’know, it’s…”
Spike looked up curiously.
“Pretty sexy,” Xander concluded with a coy smile. “It’s pretty sexy.” “I’ll remember that.” “Show me.” Spike gave Xander the supremely arrogant smirk he hadn’t
seen in years. “How about I surprise you?” “Ah, shit, gimme some blood and move your ass.” Spike chuckled and flattened out over Xander’s body, kissing
the demanding mouth until Xander was completely distracted. They dozed for a while, and Spike woke to Xander quietly
humming as his fingers played the tune on the vampire’s back. It was one of the songs Xander had
successfully learnt to play. “I have to replace the piano,” Spike said drowsily. “Let me do it. I have
the money now, and I don’t want to wait.”
Spike agreed with an unconcerned nod.
“I missed it when you were away.
It doesn’t matter if I’m ever any good, that’s not what it’s about.” “That’s right.” “I want to get a new one before you go away again.” Spike stiffened; after a moment his head rose and he met
Xander’s eyes. “Maybe I won’t be going anywhere in future.” “Yeah, sure,” Xander chuckled. “I can see Angel going for that now he’s all
family man.” “I don’t need him and I don’t want him. Just you, Xander. Just us.” Xander liked that, and he greeted the sentiment with a broad
smile. “Us, Spike. Us
always. You think we can make up our
minds right now that nothing else is going to fuck us up?” “We ready to be strong?” “I think we’re ready,” Xander answered firmly. Then wavered.
“If you’re sure you can forgive me.” “Who am I?” Xander frowned. “Spike.” “Who am I?” Xander got it and answered surely. “William.” “Who did you fuck?” “William.” “Who is?” “Spike.” “Who is?” “You.” “You fucked me,
Xander, I distinctly remember you fucking me, and very nicely too. So, what’s the problem?” It was plain from Spike’s expression that he was completely
sincere. “No problem.” Xander
pulled Spike into a hug. “I love you so
much, Spike, and I’m really lucky, I know that.
Thank you for coming home, thank you for the sharing the play, thank you
for not giving me a hard time over the cuts, thank you for… Just…thank you. I love you.” Spike felt more than a pang of guilt. But telling Xander was out of the question,
it would only be about Spike making himself feel better by confession. Xander was to be protected. Oh,
fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck. “Xander, there’s something…
We need to talk.” Xander’s hands were moving over his skin, attempting to
triumph over his heatless body and warm everywhere at once. “This isn’t about the chip?
Because I’ll never agree to put you at risk and you know that.” Spike groaned into Xander’s chest and accepted the reprieve. “Okay. We don’t need
to talk.” “There’s other stuff we can do,” Xander suggested with
deceptive innocence “Less talking, more
action.” Spike leant up and kissed Xander, letting the taste of his
lover’s mouth wipe out memories of foreign flavours. “This time say the words, love.” “Whatever you want.” “Claim me. That’s
what I want. Claim me. Make me yours.” … The following night Xander was watching TV when Spike walked
into the room in his duster. “Spike?” “I’m going out for while, love.” “You’re…” Xander wasn’t sure he’d heard that right,
but… He got to his feet and went to the
vampire, hand automatically running over and down the leather collar,
straightening what didn’t need straightening.
“You’re going out.” “Going out,” Spike confirmed, and if he seemed a little
nervous at the prospect Xander tried not to notice. “You want company?” “No, I’ll be fine.” “You’ll be fine, sure, I just thought…” “I’ll be fine. Don’t
wait up.” Xander slid his arms around Spike’s neck, moving close… “Maybe I want to wait up.” …and kissing Spike gently, with promise. Spike’s hands travelled over the hard body, and it was almost
too tempting to leave, but he’d made his decision and was going to stick with
it. “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he murmured into Xander’s
neck. “Get some sleep.” “Am I allowed to ask where you’re going?” “You can try,” Spike teased. “What then? I have to
tie you down and fuck the answer out of you?”
A tremor went through the vampire; Xander pulled him closer and kissed
him a little more energetically before backing off. “Have a good night.” The words Xander always used in Sunnydale
when Spike set off on his nocturnal jaunts. “Cheers, mate, I’ll do my best.” The standard response. “Call me if you…”
Xander shrugged, fighting down the surge of protectiveness and knowing
his nonchalance wasn’t fooling Spike for a moment. “Want phone sex?” Spike enquired, a beautifully studied
picture of purity. “Yeah,” Xander laughed.
“That.” Another kiss and Spike swept out. Xander crossed to the doorway to watch him
leave, to the hall window to watch the Jag cruise past and along the
driveway. He watched until the rear
lights disappeared from view. Whole Spike. And
whole Spike was reverting to what a whole Spike did. Xander felt a rush of pride and excitement
that, for just a moment, managed to overwhelm the ingrained concern and panic
that hijacked his feelings whenever Spike was out of his sight. He slowly drifted back to the living room but
was unable to settle, mind constantly on Spike.
He flicked around TV channels for five minutes before switching off the
set and going to the kitchen to make coffee, deciding on hot chocolate instead
to help him sleep. Which was a joke,
because he wouldn’t sleep until Spike was back. He sat and stared at the phone, wondering if he’d irritate
the hell out of his partner with one call, one call of a few seconds. Nano-seconds.
Even ‘Sod off, Xander’ would be reassurance enough. He picked up the phone. He put down the phone. He picked up the phone. He put down the phone. He sighed.
It was going to be a long night. … Spike picked up the phone.
He put down the phone. A quick
call. Under the guise of reassuring
Xander. That wouldn’t screw too much
with the new image, the revived
image. Considerate vampire that he was,
a brief, concerned call would be appreciated, expected even. Spike picked up the phone. He put down the phone. He’d found himself a brightly lit street and was casually
studying a few drunken lads fooling around trying to impress their soberly
unimpressed girlfriends. People-watching
had long been a favourite pastime but it used to be about selecting a meal, not
desensitisation. Now… He had to start somewhere if he wanted to
return to a version of himself he wasn’t ashamed of, wasn’t afraid that Xander
was ashamed of. However scary and
difficult it was going to be to leave Xander every night, he would
persevere. He would be strong, and he
would be brave, he would make Xander proud of him. He would be worthy. Xander. A single
thought and Spike’s innards appeared to melt.
Ridiculous to be so besotted with a human, but this was…Xander. Spike laughed to himself. He picked up the phone. He put down the phone. He picked up the phone. “Spike?” Xander answered immediately. “Thought you might be worried,” Spike told him, quite
sincerely now it came to it. “Yeah. I mean, no, I
know you can look after yourself, but…yeah.
We’re not used to this, I’m
not used to it, maybe it’s as much about me not wanting to be left alone. I find that harder every time.” “Me too. I was going
to tell you that but I thought… I didn’t
want you to think…” “What? That you’re as
pathetically dependent as I am?” “Something like that.” “You think you’ll be long?
I won’t sleep until you’re back.” “Try.” “Spike…” “Do as you’re told.” “Yeah, right.” “Make this easier for me.” There was a strained pause. “Okay. I’ll…umm…I’ll
see you in the morning.” “I have to do this, Xander.” “I know. And I’m so
proud of you.” “Keep that for later, eh?
Wait till I do something worth being proud of.” “Doesn’t work like that,” Xander chuckled. “No?” “No. I can’t wait
when I’m already proud all the time.” Spike felt it, felt that pride, pointless denying it. “Give me an example.” “Of what makes me proud?” “Yeah.” “Other than the obvious?
‘Cause I’m out with you and people see us together and, okay, they don’t
know we’re together, as in together,
but just the fact that you’re with me in any sense… Y’know, I always felt like that, even when we
were just friends back in Sunnydale and we’d go play pool, I was always… Lost the point here, didn’t I?” “Still nice to hear.” “I’d be smug for me and proud for you because you were
extraordinary. You are extraordinary.” “Give me an example,” Spike repeated, and Xander laughed. “Pride or extraordinariness?” “Can’t you manage both in one breath, save the battery?” Xander thought for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I
can. This stuff with William…” “Done and dusted, love.” “Not beating myself up over it, it’s not that. It’s how you coped. How you let me, made me cope. I did
something that I still can’t reconcile myself with but you made it
forgivable. When I first figured it out
I didn’t think either of us would ever be able to forgive me, but you…” Xander paused, and when he carried on speaking,
Spike could hear the smile in his voice.
“You made it better. I’ve handed
that over, it’s what you do now. You
made it better.” Spike felt an almost physical pain, as if Xander had handed
over his phenomenal capacity for guilt at the same instant. “Hang on, pet, think I might be called upon to use my
licence to dust,” Spike lied glibly. “Just… Not going
there, not being wussy and telling Big Bad to be careful, I promise.” “Good.” “But be careful, okay?” “Okay. Get some
sleep. Night, love.” “Night, sweetheart.” So Xander lay staring at the ceiling, worrying about Spike
and wishing he were home. Spike sat
staring at the street, guilty and worrying about Xander worrying about him, and
wishing he were home. Two hours before Spike figured out where he could go to take
a small, painless step in the direction of his rehabilitation. He turned the car around and headed for
Preston Hill, a faithful M’lura, and a wealth of stories featuring commendable
demonic uses for humanity. … Five in the morning.
Home, and Spike was hard the second he got inside the door. He hurried over setting the alarm, persisting
with the habit despite knowing it was unnecessary due to the ward, switched the
hall lights on, and ran up the stairs in a blur. The faint scent of Spike wondered, insanely, if William still had his
soul. If a part of him had a part of a
soul that made him partly vulnerable.
Then again, Spike knew that it wasn’t the possession or lack of a soul
that made you good and thoughtful, or bad and…Initiative. Xander stirred: the ‘watched by Spike’ effect no doubt. Undressed in seconds, Spike crept into bed
and spent a few impatient minutes warming before moulding himself to Xander’s
body. Xander woke immediately at the
feel of the still-chilly flesh, barely having time to get his senses together
before finding himself rolled and the subject of some intense kissing. “Can we fuck?” “What’s the magic word?” Xander asked sleepily. “Orgasm?” A slow smile formed on Xander’s face. “Close enough.” … End of the week and it didn’t take much persuading on
Xander’s part to convince Spike to go out with him and Jake as opposed to
cruising around anticipating the arrival of one of Angel’s occasional demons. “You’ll be okay?” “Yes, Xander,” Spike assured for the hundredth time. “With the people.” “Yes, Xander.” “Crowds.” “Yes, Xander.” “Humans.” “Don’t you want me to come with you?” “Yes! I want!” “Then stop trying to put me off.” “I’m not, I just don’t want you to be…” “Finish that.” “I…umm…” “You don’t want me to be…scared?” “Uncomfortable.” “I won’t be scared.
I’m getting past scared, Xander.
I’ve been out by myself every night this week and I’ve been fine,” Spike
lied. Spike lied well but Xander was
going to be convinced because Xander wanted
to be convinced. “Besides, things get
dodgy and I can hide behind you and Jake like the proper Nancy-boy you think I
am. “I don’t think that!” “Just as well, love.
Big Bad might not be in the building, but he’s undoubtedly in the limo
on the way from the airport.” Spike smiled at Xander’s response to that: his pet was so
bloody predictable. The price of being irresistibly big and bad appeared to be
one long shag, and no-one could accuse Spike of being scared of that. They agreed to go from Cedar House, Jake turning up on their
doorstep at nine. Xander was running
late, still in the shower after spending most of the day in the garage
constructing a new desk. Okay, that, and
the time-consuming physical result of having Spike emerge from the bathroom
trimmed and sleek and so blond the reflected glare from his hair could blind a
man. Spike sent Jake into the living
room and went to fetch a couple of beers, Xander having lost the almost
entirely fair coin toss in his absence and been assigned driving duties. When Spike returned he found Jake gazing at the photographs
Cora had taken in the park, most of which Xander had printed out and propped up
on the fireplace. Spike could sense the
melancholy emanating from this unpredictable character, and he approached
cautiously in the face of such unguarded sorrow. “I wasn’t made to be alone, Will,” Jake whispered miserably
as Spike drew near. Spike was about to come back with a caustically dismissive
rejoinder when he felt what Jake was feeling, felt it because he knew it. The whole ‘empty room, nothing for the rest
of my life’ feeling. Empathy kicked in
strongly but it didn’t help Spike know how to handle this. Xander had spoken of Jake’s ten-minute dips,
as he called them, but Spike had never expected to face one or he’d have paid
more attention to what Xander had told him, and where the hell was Xander when
he was needed? Selfishly getting clean. Family of huggers,
Spike reminded himself grimly, putting down the beer and taking a deep
breath. A touch to Jake’s shoulder and
Spike felt the young man stiffen, sending Spike swinging from not wanting to
deal with this, to teetering on offence that his comforting overtures might be
rejected. He could do comfort, he’d
learnt comfort the hard way. If he
wanted to give comfort, Jake would sodding-well have to accept it. “Oi, git, c’mere,” Spike said…comfortingly. Jake chuckled to himself but Spike saw the familiarity in it
bring further pain to his eyes; the vampire ceded to the inner ouch, pulling
Jake around and into a very loose embrace, relieved when Jake’s head sank and
his brow hit Spike’s shoulder. Hand
automatically rising to stroke the silky hair, Spike made his all-purpose
consolatory noises. William the Bloody: familial counsellor. I fucking despair of myself. Time passed, Spike soothed, the shower
upstairs eventually switched off, and could Xander be any slower? “I hate this life,” Jake confided in the same empty
whisper. “This life is wrong.” Spike patted Jake down, found what he was looking for and
dipped into a pocket, withdrawing a foil and untwisting it, offering Jake his
own drugs. Jake looked, selected a
couple, swallowed dry as Spike retrieved the beer. “Does it help?” Spike wanted to know, disconcerted that Jake
wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I guess.” Jake took
his beer and drank half down. “Y’know,
Xander only ever took them to keep me company, I never meant for him…” “Leave it. He doesn’t
take them now, so that’s done with.”
Jake nodded, finished his beer, accepted Spike’s when it was
offered. “You going to be out of it tonight? Need me to keep an eye on you?” “You don’t have to worry about me.” “I don’t have to,” Spike considered. “Is there a choice? I don’t have
to give you – any of you – a second
thought but I can’t help it.” “Hard for you to ignore us,” Jake said quietly. “Alex,” by way of explanation. Jake sat, cradled his beer, picked at the label. Spike sat alongside him. “Why is this life wrong?” he asked, delicately
interrogative. “I…” Spike saw the
shutters come down. “I just feel wrong
sometimes. That’s what I meant. I should stay permanently stoned, that’d do
the trick,” Jake ineffectively joked. “Does Patrick know how…wrong you feel?” Jake looked at him with an unfathomable gaze, long enough
for Spike to begin feeling very uncomfortable. “Patrick does all he can,” came the ambiguous reply, then
Jake was clicking back into cheerful mode as Xander walked into the room. “Ready and willing!” Xander announced loudly, dancing his
squeaky clean and goatee-free form over to Spike and pulling him to his
feet. “Let’s hit the road.” “You’re driving.” “Ohhhh…fuck.” “You only need music to get high,” Jake reminded him
artlessly, and Xander borrowed the bowman’s salute from Spike and waggled it in
his friend’s direction. “’Kay, let’s go, I’m up for this.” Xander bounded back to the hall singing,
“Keys, keys, keys, keys,” to the tune of the Monty Python spam song. Jake and Spike exchanged a look. “He puts the garbage out to Nelly the Elephant,” Spike
confided sombrely, and they followed Xander out to the Merc to Spike’s
rendition of, “Nelly the elephant ties the bag, and takes it out to the trash
can…” … Xander was relieved to find that Spike was as unaffected by
the crowds of humans as he’d indicated.
The three of them manoeuvred their way to the bar – beer, coke, water –
and then shuffled to a slightly clearer area where they could catch their
breath, either needed or going through the motions of, before hitting the
floor. Spike was surprised that Jake, nondescript (the vampire
arrogantly thought) compared to himself or Xander, was immediately hit on and
drawn away by a scarcely clothed young woman.
Spike looked questioningly at Xander, who grinned back. “Always happens,” Xander explained. “Why?” “I don’t know. He
used to say they picked him because I gave off ‘unavailable’ vibes.” “Good,” Spike said very definitely, pulling Xander close and
giving him a possessive kiss. “It’s okay in here,” Xander said as Spike glanced around to
see if they’d been noticed. “That’s why
we picked this place. Girls, guys, girls
and girls, guys and guys, no-one gives a damn.” Spike nodded and linked their fingers together, tugging
Xander toward the dance floor. Xander
took a last gulp of coke and let himself be led, recalling past times and
preparing himself to be overshadowed by Spike yet again: the damn vampire even
danced well, and it wasn’t fair that he possessed a fluidity and grace in all
things while Xander couldn’t even spell fluidity without two attempts. In the middle of the heaving mass, Spike
turned to Xander, hands sliding over the cotton-clad chest, up and up until
fingers clenched in dark hair. The heat
in Spike’s eyes made Xander tremble in anticipation, and he was soon the
recipient of a savage kiss, as Spike’s body thrust against his in time to the
thudding beat of the music, and Xander was no longer quite so envious of the
vampire’s moves. Xander was positively dazed by the time Jake and a different
girl appeared dancing alongside them, Spike having almost brought him off just
by kissing him. He gave his friend a
stilted wave and shook himself out of his trance, watching now as Spike backed
off and relaxed into the music, confident enough to close his eyes and rely on
Xander keep him safe. Xander was amazed
by the transformation Spike’s integration with William had brought about, and
he couldn’t drag his attention away for a moment from this version of his
lover, finding himself calculating how long it would be until they were back
home and in bed. The girl with Jake was also taking an admiring look in
Spike’s direction, and Jake wisely danced them out of jealousy’s range. Spike turned and leant back against Xander, a
move he’d pulled frequently in Sunnydale’s clubs, leaving Xander helplessly
wondering where the hell he was supposed to put his hands if crawling all over
Spike’s body wasn’t an option. He let
out a laugh, no longer restricted by fear, insecurity or embarrassment, and
swept his palms over Spike’s sides and onto his chest and stomach, some fingers
finding their way inside the silk shirt to scratch over pebbled nipples, others
following the line of a slim hip, thumb teasingly close to a semi-hard
cock. Spike’s arm came up, hand grabbing
at Xander’s hair once again and pulling until Xander’s mouth was on his neck,
sucking; the material beneath Xander’s thumb became taut. “Want me to make you come?” Xander said as he pressed his
lips to Spike’s ear. “Not here,” or “Not yet,” he thought was the answer, drowned
out by the music, and he lightened his touch to soft strokes that calmed rather
than aroused. He felt Spike’s tension
disperse in tiny ripples, and he went back to calculating: home, bed, in hours,
then in minutes. Break for a drink and Jake joined them, alone now. “Any good?” Spike asked. Jake frowned for a moment before catching on. “Oh, yeah, she’s very nice.” “Nice as in…cab home?” Xander wanted to know. Another frown and Jake shook his head, turning away and
surveying the floor. “We want to know your secret. Why do the birds like you?” The young man turned back. “I’m nothing special.
They can pick me up and dump me without a second thought.” Jake saw the darkening of Xander’s expression
and jumped in. “Don’t try to defend
that, I know it’s true and I don’t care.” “It’s not true,” Xander protested. “Let it go, Lexy.”
Jake smiled into the crowd and another young woman sidled over. “See me complaining?” Jake asked over his
shoulder with a grin, disappearing from view in seconds with his latest
partner. “Is it true? You
think that’s true?” Xander asked Spike. Spike shrugged. “Could be. Doubt it.” “What then?” “D’know, and I don’t care anymore.” “Is that anything to do with your hand being down the back
of my pants?” Spike squeezed. “Thought so.
Dance? Before we end up fucking
against the wall.” Spike accepted the hand that Xander graciously returned,
reached back and picked up his beer glass, giving it to Xander. “Same again?”
Nod. “You going to be okay here
by yourself?” Xander asked, knowing he shouldn’t but how was he supposed to
shake off the last couple of years in a week? “Take your time, love.
Prove the point.” “I know I’m…” “To both of us.” Xander reluctantly pushed his way back to the bar, taking
swift glances at Spike while he was still able to see him. The crowd waiting for drinks was four
deep. He sighed. This was where you needed a vampire. Touch of game face and Spike’d be served
within a minute. Xander grinned to
himself, reminiscing over the last time that particular ploy had been
successfully used. Meanwhile Spike was feeling a little suspicious about the
girl wrapped around Jake and her connection to the visibly riled
six-foot-something wide-as-he-was-high guy approaching them with some
haste. Standing on his toes he tried to
see Xander, but if his partner was within the bar enclosure there wasn’t a
chance of spotting him, let alone securing his attention. No time to deliberate; Spike dove into the
crowd, weaving between gyrating bodies until he found the gyrating body of
choice, grabbing Jake by his waistband and yanking him away from the surprised
young woman, virtually out of the grasp of the angry male. There was a short and furious, highly animated exchange
between the disgruntled couple, transformed into a silent movie by the
combination of flickering lights and the drowning out of their words, and then
the man was turning angrily to Jake, who held up his hands in capitulation,
attempting to indicate that he hadn’t known what he was getting himself
into. One more threatening step was all
it took before the man was up against the nearest column, fist tightening
around his throat, sharp knee relocating his balls to a new home, possibly just
behind his ears. Grunting and wheezing
as he fought for air, body trying its best to collapse, he was held in place
for further reconfiguring, rapid blows accurately smashing his cheekbone, nose,
jaw. Only then was he allowed to slump to the floor, a viciously
precise stamp breaking several ribs before he heard, snarled through the
pounding of the music, “Get it, wanker? No-one messes with my family.”
|
|
|
|
|
| Site Updates Update List Home Fiction Gallery Links Feedback |
