|
|
|||
|
||||
|
|
|
Part 95 |
|
|
|
|||||||||||||
|
|
|
Xander was on the computer checking his e-mails the next day
when he spotted Spike out of the corner of his eye. “You think you can cut my hair for me later? I know you like it longer but…” “Won’t be here, love.” That took a second to sink in. Then Xander turned sharply to Spike and
finally noticed he was fully dressed, complete with duster. “But… When… You never said.” “I decided last night.” Xander drew breath to debate the decision but remembered
Spike suffering the effects of the chip the previous night and understood
perfectly why he wanted to head to LA and check on any progress toward its
removal. He rose and crossed to Spike,
noticing the vampire tense inexplicably. “It’s okay, I’m not going to try to stop you.” “Didn’t think you would,” Spike countered, quite
unbelievably. Xander slid his arms inside the duster and around Spike’s
waist. “You do whatever you have to. Within reason. No frying your brain.” “I’ll… Yes.” “Gonna miss you,” Xander whispered against Spike’s neck, sending
chills through the cool body as he proceeded to kiss and suck the skin. “Any chance I can miss you later rather than
sooner?” Spike began to loosen up with the attention, and as Xander
growled comically in his ear he started to chuckle. “Sooner. Has to be
sooner or it won’t happen at all.” “No!” Xander exclaimed maniacally, “You’re mine, all
mine!” And he shoved Spike back against
the hallway wall, lifting up his arms by the wrists and holding them tightly
against the surface. “Now, with my magic
invisible shackles…” He went through an
elaborate mime. “…I’ll keep you here and
have my wicked way with you!” “You’ve been watching that stupid sodding cartoon channel
again, haven’t you?” Spike laughed. “Henry likes it.” “Daft git.” “Don’t call Henry names like that.” Spike shook his head in bemusement and Xander took a couple
for seconds to catch up with his partner’s mouth and kiss it hard and
fast. He pulled back with a wide grin. “Couple of days, that’s all,” Spike assured him. “However long it takes.
Within reason. Try and get back
while I still have my own teeth.” “Will do, love.”
Spike gazed at Xander for a long moment, appreciating the happiness in
his expression, the utter devotion in his eyes.
He dropped his arms and pulled Xander close. “Give us a kiss.” “Yeah,” Xander agreed, and lightly touched his lips to
Spike’s. “Love you, Spike. Love you, sweetheart,” was assured before the
kiss deepened. “Need a favour,” Spike murmured. “That’s right, ask me while my brain’s in my pants.” “Want to borrow the Merc.
So Hamish has more room.” That stopped Xander; his brain sped back to his cranium and
he looked thoroughly shocked. Spike was
expecting some protestation over the Merc, but… “You can’t take Henry with you.” “He wants to see LA and I want him to meet Angel. I’m going to train him to bite him on
sight. Hamish biting Angel, that is,
not…” “But he’ll hate LA, where Angel is is all built up, air’s
full of pollution, there’s nowhere for him to run. And that journey isn’t fair on him.” “He can’t stay here.
You’ll be at work and he’ll be left alone.” “I’ll take him in with me, and he can come on site. I’ll be at Broadman’s Creek, he’ll like it
there.” “It’s a building site.” “Work’s barely started.
It’s a massive area, open…” Spike suddenly slapped a hand over Xander’s mouth. Xander’s eyebrows raised questioningly. “We’re fighting over custody,” Spike told him, serious face
cracking into a grin. Xander’s eyes
smiled and he nodded. Spike dropped his
hand when Xander began licking the palm, finding himself the subject of more
intense smooching. “I love this,” Xander admitted. “Having us, and caring about Henry, and
thinking about family. I love you so
much, Spike.” “And I love you.”
Kiss. “And I’m taking Hamish with
me.” Thanks to Xander’s buoyant mood saying goodbye was easier
this time, Spike being inspired to match the infectious good humour, though he
kept having to prise Xander away before he was thoroughly ravished. Xander handed over the keys to his car. “We’re off then,” Spike announced. “You take care of yourself, and try not to
snog any Scandinavians this time, eh?” “Scan…? How did you know...” “I
didn't,” Spike grinned. “But I do now.” “You're
not going to get all crazy and revengey, are you?” Xander asked, pinning Spike
against a whole new wall. “’Cause I
don't want to have to get all strict, with the tying down and...” “The
fucking me senseless to keep me passive?
Crazed and primed for revenge, that's me.” “Should we
start now with the tying and fucking?
Just in case you run into some defenceless Dane on your travels?” Spike
laughed and tried to break free. But he
didn't try very hard. “I'm never
going to get out of here, am I?” Xander
sighed and reluctantly loosened his grip. “Yes, you
are. Go.
Do. Come back with good news.” “Just a couple of days.” “I hope so. If not,
remember I finish this week and then I’m off work.” “I’ll definitely be back before the weekend.” Last hug and a kiss, and Spike was picking up
his holdall, clicking his fingers at Hamish, and heading for the garage door,
turning and walking backwards for a final look at Xander. “I’ll do your hair when I get back. Don’t let anyone else touch it.” “I won’t.” “I’ll call when I get there.” Xander nodded and watched Spike and Hamish disappear. Couple of seconds and he was chasing after
them, throwing open the door and catching Spike before he got into the Merc. “Spike!” “What’s wrong, love?” “I’ll do some work at the gallery. What would you like?” Spike thought, and what instantly sprang to mind was the
gorgeous result of Xander’s recent bout of carpentry. “A desk for the reception.
That too much?” Xander shook his head briskly, gave Spike a last last hug
and kiss, and this time stood aside to witness his partner, dog and car
departing. … The Durmans. Sunday
featured many, many sweetly apologetic messages on the answering machine, Josie
genuinely appalled and upset at what had occurred on Saturday evening. Monday morning saw flowers, delivered with
the most contrite of apologies, from Tuesday morning featured a short discussion with a still
irate Jake on the subject, and a text message to Spike: ‘J wants to know if S
wants to sue the fuckwit who hit him.’
And the reply: ‘V + legal system = bad idea. But make rumblings.’ With Xander’s blessing, Jake rumbled, and Patrick rumbled. This was clearly no longer about the fuckwit, who seemed to
have disappeared without trace, it was about John Durman. The thought of John Durman, with his
perfectly manicured reputation, sweating at the idea of not Spike, but the
MacDonald Partnership, dragging his extended family through the courts was a
source of great amusement and satisfaction for Xander. And if the legal process became, as it often
did, about wealth versus wealth, the Durmans would be crushed, and everyone
involved knew that. By Tuesday afternoon Xander was revelling in the power they
had over the man, simply from being generous enough to let the subject
drop. By the time Tuesday evening
arrived and Xander was at the gallery, sharing a beer with Beth, he was more
content to work with the oak for Spike’s desk, and forget the suddenly tiresome
excitement. “Will Spike be sorry he missed all this fuss?” Beth asked. “Y’know…I think if he were here, he’d be more concerned over
whether the desk has a leather inlay.
Which leads me to ask…” Beth chuckled and, with a flourish that shouted
magician/hat/rabbit, pulled a swatch of leather samples from her voluminous
purse. … ‘…what you think of me.
“Hi, sweetheart. When
did you get back? Why didn’t you wake
me?” “Mmm?” “You should’ve woken me.”
Spike shook his head against the pillow.
“Want to share breakfast?” “Tiredmightjust…” the blur of words trailed off as Spike
dozed. “Yeah, you crash.” Spike shifted, turning away from Xander. “I can get home at lunchtime. You want me to?” Another shake. “Nnnnn.” Although a little disappointed, Xander moved closer, smiling
at his dopey lover, nuzzling into his neck and kissing, squashing his
enthusiastic morning hard-on between them.
He ran his hand over Spike’s belly and lower, teasing the cock that
immediately started to harden. Spike
sighed and murmured something Xander didn’t quite catch, but it made him pause
warily. A second time and Xander heard
it plainly. “Sire…” Xander knew there was oxygen in the room so the
air-sucked-out-of-lungs feeling was evidently all down to him and the sure-fire
knowledge that it had finally happened.
He stiltedly pulled away from Spike, succumbing to the need to wipe his
mouth, knowing who had kissed that neck last, intimately enough for this to be
a reminder, knowing his touch had recalled thoughts of… Out of the bed, afraid to look back, Xander left the room. He stared blindly at himself as he shaved, trying to reason
this out, trying to make excuses for why…
Trying not to think about it and being unable to not think about
it. Sire. The no air sensation returned with a
vengeance and Xander collapsed onto the closed toilet seat, attempting to catch
his breath. Sire. “No,” Xander whispered into the silence, “please, no.” Not how it seemed, couldn’t be. Spike was half-asleep, maybe dreaming about
Angel… Okay, that didn’t help, Spike
dreaming of Angel. Sire. Xander went back to shaving, thinking, trying not to think,
eyes unaccountably sore, no air, hands trembling. Stopped shaving: he didn’t want to cut
himself. He washed the shaving gel away,
decided to use the electric razor in his briefcase. The one Spike had bought him for… His eyes were unaccountably sore despite
having slept well. No air. Sire. But he trusted Spike, loved him and trusted him. Loved him.
Trusted him. He trusted Angel. Sire. … Back to the bedroom to dress, and a quick glance at Spike
became Xander’s entire body by his side. “Sweetheart, wake up for me.
Just need to ask…” “Mmm?” “Have you…” Can’t
say it, can’t say the words, can’t say it.
Need to hear. Oh, God, need to. “Please, please be honest with me. Have you…been…with Angel?” Because this is just me misunderstanding,
just imagination, just fear, he’ll say… “Mmm…” Barely audible
but it screamed at Xander. No air. Heaving breaths, Xander scrambled into his clothes, leaving
as fast as he could, out and down the stairs, blindly ignoring Hamish who sat
up and wagged as he passed. Coat, briefcase, cell, keys.
Two sets of keys on the hall table.
Merc, Jag. Xander grabbed up the
Jag keys, because what if they’d…in his car? Trying not to think, trying not to feel, trying to catch his
breath, Xander left the house. Upstairs, Spike roused momentarily at the sound of the front
door closing. “Love,” he muttered before slipping back to sleep,
blissfully ignorant of the damage he had done. … “Alexander Harris.” “Hello, Alexander Harris, aren’t you supposed to be here?” His voice, Spike’s voice; Xander blinked hard, tried to
breathe. “Sorry?” “You said you’d be home at lunchtime. Neglected vampire says where’s Xander?” “And you said not to, so…” “When did I say that?” Xander blinked harder.
No air. “Look, this isn’t a good time.” “You’re not coming home then?” Spike clarified with
unmistakable disappointment. “No.” “You sound… You
okay?” Xander groped for a plausible lie. “Rough morning.
Finishing up at Preston Hill.
Just call me flashback-of-what-I-can’t-remember man.” “Come home, love.” Genuine concern.
Must feel guilty. Big of him. “Can’t.” “Ah. I get it. You’re not on your own, are you?” Xander glanced around the empty office. “No.” “Okay. What time will
you be home?” Xander looked down at the diary he’d emptied. “I’m not sure, there are a couple of meetings that might
drag on.” “Call me if you get a chance. If you need to talk about it.” “Yeah.” “I love you, Xander.” “Yeah.” “Bye.” Xander hung up as quickly as was humanly possible, sitting
back in his chair and staring at the phone.
He does love me, I know he loves me.
He came home. Had Angel – Angel
had him – whichever, whatever, nononoNO!, then he came home. Because he loves me. If I were Spike, if I had that thing in my head, if it
was ruining my life, wouldn’t I do whatever it took to get it removed? Wouldn’t I sleep with Angel? Wouldn’t I sleep with just about anybody? If I had the chip, and it could be removed by fucking
Angel, wouldn’t I fuck Angel? If my life had been reduced to… If it was in my head… If… Xander gave up. He
felt himself give up, knowing that Spike and Angel had been inevitable and he
had to accept and take his share, or lose everything of his lover. With Angel around he would always feel like second best. With Angel around. Expression settling into something quite grim, heart
hardening, Xander reminded himself of the stake in his briefcase, and turned to
the computer to check out flights to LA. … When Xander returned home late that evening he was struck by
the normality. This life he loves. This man.
Big waggly dog greeting him. As
he approached the living room he could hear Spike’s voice, laughing as he spoke
on the phone, and Xander knew it was Dawn just from the manner. The vampire was stretched out on the sofa and
glanced to the doorway as his partner walked in, eyes lighting with pleasure at
the sight of him. “Got to go, Nibblet, lord and master’s made his
entrance. … Okay.”
Spike held the handset out in Xander’s direction. “Hey, Dawnie, love ya,” Xander called, pushing himself to
make the effort, to sound normal amidst the normality. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.
… Blah, blah, blah, all the
slushy stuff, focus on your own bloke, you needy cow. … For
the last time, this one’s mine, no sharing.
… You think? … Take
my word for it, you haven’t got the stamina.”
Spike looked over to Xander with a smile, saw the unhappiness; his face
dropped. “Got to go, pet. Bye.”
Spike tossed the phone aside and hurried to Xander, surprise crossing
his features as Xander took a definite step back from his outstretched
arms. Spike took his own step back. “Talk to me, Xander.” “I don’t want to talk.
I think I’ll lie down for a while.” “With me?” Spike asked.
The reply was a hardening of Xander’s already brittle expression. “Not with me.” “Not right now.” Xander left and headed for the stairs. “Xander.” Xander
stopped. “Want to tell me what’s gone
arse-about-face this time?” “No.” “That’s going to help.” Xander swung back, hugely irritated by the sarcasm. “Think maybe now would be a good time for you to shut up.” Spike took a thorough look at Xander, and Xander saw the
sadness in his eyes. “Xan… You’re
radiating misery. You can’t do this
alone, you have to talk to me.” “I don’t want to.” “Don’t cut me out.
It’s not like I’m to blame.” “What?” “If you need to remember we’ll find the right help. And when you remember you can tell me who did
it, and I swear they will be dealt with, you’ll never have to feel threatened
by them again. Might have to get Angel
to help, but he’d be game.” Xander stifled the urge to laugh hysterically. “You think this is about me getting beaten.” Slightly confused pause. “Isn’t it?” Xander
got as far as the foot of the stairs before he was pulled to a halt by a hand
on his arm. “What then? Is it…because I went away?” Xander didn’t answer verbally but the
twitching muscle as he clenched his jaw was enough. “Because I went away. You don’t have a problem with Angel, so how
can the problem be Angel?” “The problem…” Xander
took a deep breath. And another. “The problem is you fucking around with
Angel.” Spike looked truly shocked. “I…fucking…I’m what?” “He’s always wanted you, he made it so plain. I should’ve…” “No. No, Xander,
nothing like that happened.” “How come someone with your propensity for evil is such a
bad liar?” “Nothing has…” “I should’ve known, some day, but…” “No, Xander.” “You told me.” Beat. “You’re saying I admitted something that didn’t happen?” “You told me. You
said you’d been with him.” “Well, I have, I’ve been with him in… Ah.
Been with him. As in…” “Been with him.” “I haven’t been with him in the biblical sense. More the locational variety.” An expression flitted over Spike’s face,
couldn’t be hidden, flitted back.
Hurt. “I’d never cheat on you,
Xander. I can’t believe you think I
would.” There was a long edgy pause as Xander tried that out. “Okay.” So obviously not okay. “You think I’m lying,” Spike observed coolly. “In fact, you want me to be lying, you want
it to happen. So you can be proved
right.” “Angel…” “This isn’t about him.
It’s about me. All right, I know
he gets hot for me – I can smell it on him – and it’s instinctive, he wants to
take his property back.” “You’re not property, don’t say that.” “You’re calling me a whore in one breath, defending me in
the next. Make up your sodding mind.” “I didn’t call you…” “By any other name.
But he doesn’t have a chance with me, and he knows it. I’ve told you, I’ve told him. I’ve told
you.” “I know,” Xander admitted quietly. “But you wanting to be with Angel would make
much more sense than you wanting me.” “That’s bollocks and you know it.” Spike very deliberately presented Xander’s
mark to him. “What does that say?” Xander declined to answer, but his face
showed suitable humility. “Says I’m
yours, Xander. Your property if
anybody’s. If Angel tried this I’d tear
his fangs out. And the laughable thing
is that you’re flavour of the month. The
year.” Xander frowned at him. “I promise you, ever since that first
showdown at Red’s it’s you he gets off on.
Some degree of satisfaction to be had there, I have to confess: lying in
bed, knowing that on the other side of the wall the old poof’s wanking over the
thought of fucking you.” “I don’t want to know.” Xander turned to go yet again and in an instant Spike was at
his back, voice low. “I’ll tell you something else, Xander. The reason you think I’m going to fuck Angel,
is because you’d do it like…” Spike
snapped his fingers “…if you had the
chance.” “No.” “You never think about it, eh?” Spike taunted in a seductive
tone. “When I’m with him and you’re all
alone at night with your fist wrapped around your cock? Think about him? Him and me?
The three of us?” Xander turned slowly, meeting Spike’s eyes without a qualm,
knowing he had nothing to hide. “I think about you.
You and me. You’re all I’ve
thought about for years.” “Come on, Xan, you can be honest with Spike. You and Angel. Want to take him? His mouth?
His arse? Rough maybe. Punish him for lusting after your property.” “No.” Spike could hear the tightly controlled anger and smiled. “I don’t believe you.”
Xander’s fists clenched and he pushed past Spike to get away from the
mocking expression. “Painful, isn’t it?”
Spike said coldly before he got more than a few paces away. “To be accused and condemned. When there’s not a grain of truth in it.” “You and him… I don’t
want it to be true,” Xander insisted, voice breaking under the weight of
emotion. “I just…” “Believe me now. Only
you, love, only you for me.” “I can’t…” “Xander?” Spike whispered, alarmed at the sight of his
lover’s rapid emotional disintegration. “I cut you open. You
know what that did to me?” Xander demanded, any remaining composure shattering. “You know how insane that made me feel? And I did it so that you could go fuck
Angel? Why didn’t you let him do it? He’d have fucking enjoyed it! But you let this stupid, sensitive,
gonna-be-traumatised-for-life human do it.
You know what that did to me?
Cutting you open?” The memory tore at Xander, every nightmare returning in a
rush and, arms wrapped around his head, he wailed in fear and agony and
loss. A perfunctory attempt to shrug off
Spike’s ensuing hug, then Xander let the vampire’s arms surround him and he
collapsed into the comfort he had needed since carrying out that barbaric act,
letting Spike rock him and mop up the tears that poured down his face. “My poor love,” Spike murmured compassionately, “poor
love. What saving me has cost you.” “Not saved.” “Yes, saved. My
saviour. You heard it from William,
you’ll hear it from me.” “Not…” “You cleaned me.” “I butchered you.” “You cleaned me.” “So you could…” “No. To be with
you. Only you.” “I don’t believe you,” Xander sobbed as he clung even harder
to Spike. “I know.” It was a long time before Spike could coax Xander into the
living room, longer still before the human seemed able to continue what Spike
felt was the crux of the conversation.
He knew it wouldn’t take much for Xander’s upset to be overwhelmed by
anger but he had to risk it and get this matter behind them. “You feel threatened, I understand that. But you have to trust me. I haven’t been with Angel. I haven’t been with anyone but you for a
decade. Voluntarily, that is. Or does…” “No, the other stuff doesn’t count, of course it doesn’t.” “No-one gets near me but you.” Xander’s head dropped into his hands; cold fingers stroked
the back of his neck and, once again, the contact he didn’t want but longed for
helped Xander feel a little less deserted. “Spike… We…” “It’s over.” Xander
froze; Spike kept petting. “LA is
over. I won’t be going back.” “You mean…?” “Angel said he’d try and get the chip removed. He’s tried.
No go. It’s over. No more LA, no more overnighters with
Grandpa. You’ll have to find a new focus
for your paranoia.” “That’s why you were distracted this morning?” “Was I? I was tired,
I know that, could barely keep my eyes open the last fifty miles. I didn’t sleep at all when I was away,
just…couldn’t settle. Wanted you.” The news sank in and, abruptly, it was all that
mattered. Xander turned and pulled Spike
to him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” “Don’t, love. This
may be better. I didn’t fancy being cut
about, anyway.” “But, Spike…” “Stop it. If you want
to make it easier for me you won’t mention it again. No breast-beating, no mourning. We’ve got a good life and it’s been on hold
for too long. Let’s get on with it, eh,
pet? After all, one of us isn’t getting
any younger.” “I’m…” “Why don’t you talk to Angel? He has the knack of making you feel better,
and when he says nothing happened between us you’ll know if he’s telling you
the truth. Like you said: how come
someone with a vampire’s propensity for evil is such a bad liar?” Xander looked horrified for a moment, and he eased himself
away from Spike. “I can’t,” he said, tone hollow. “He wouldn’t mind.” “I can’t,” Xander repeated.
“Today—” “Yes? Today…?” “It was…” Xander
stopped, panic-gasped a deep breath, stared at his hands as the fingers wound
together. “I’ve been so happy. Kind of happy I’ve never known before, didn’t
know it was possible to feel like that.
We were good and settled and…
Angel was family. I trusted
him. I felt doubly betrayed because I
trusted him.” “Nothing’s changed, you haven’t lost that.” “I have.” Spike watched Xander rise and move to the mantel; he picked
up a picture of Angel taken during Xander’s recuperation period the previous
year, one of the few where the vampire had been unaware of this invasion of his
privacy. It was a relaxed portrait,
Angel in t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, hair surprisingly anyhow, slouched across
an armchair and smiling at something he was reading in the newspaper on his
lap. Sire. Grandpa. “Tell me, Xander.” Spike’s voice was tinged with concern and Xander felt
obliged to answer, but his voice was flat and colourless. “So simple.” “What was?” “It’s just a hop in a plane, here to LA.” “So?” Spike frowned. “Simple. To go to LA,
straight to Angel, tell him we have to talk about you because I’m so
worried. Why would he suspect a thing?” Spike slowly came to Xander, took the picture and placed it
back on the mantel, before turning Xander to him. “Is this what you did today, love?” he enquired gently,
superficially calm as his mind raced. “Almost…Shakespearean.
See, I paid attention. To what
you taught me after we went to the show in the park.” “Xander… Tell me
about Angel.” “He’s been around a while, you think he’d know not to turn
his back on someone who greeted him with a hug.
Someone who just…wouldn’t do that.
Then the last thing he ever knows is that something sharp and wooden is burying itself in his back and piercing his
heart. He’s dust, he’s… Dust.”
Xander finally met Spike’s eyes.
“You’re hurting me.” Spike released the
pressure he’d unwittingly put on Xander’s hands. “Sorry. Sorry, love.
Caught me by surprise,” he understated.
“So…” Spike began, but nothing
more came. “So?” “You…you killed
Angel?” “I was wondering,”
Xander continued in that strange detached manner, “if I’d tell you. Or not.
I figured I’d want you to know, that he was gone and it was me, and then
I’d say that I warned you. That you fuck
around with him and he’s dust. Yeah,”
Xander said vaguely as he removed his hands from Spike’s and went to look out
of the window. “I warned you.” “Xander…” Spike pursued Xander to the window, hand
rising to his cheek to bring his face around.
Xander was blank, not a single emotion showed. “Xander, you killed Angel?” Xander stared
at Spike, challenging him to reveal his true feelings over that. Not a
chance. “Xander, you… Seriously now, did you think to empty out his
safe?” The cool gaze
finally switched away, back to the photograph of Angel. Xander numbly returned to it, taking it in a
trembling hand and studying it once more. “Have you ever
scared yourself? With what you’re
capable of?” “At times,” Spike
conceded, using every ounce of his self-control to stop himself from grabbing
Xander and shaking the facts out of him.
“Xander…” Spike lost what he’d
been about to say as Xander, very precisely, tore the picture, dissecting
Angel. That done, the pieces fell to the
ground. “Grandpa,” Xander
whispered. Spike started toward
Xander but Xander stopped him in his tracks with a look. “Xander… Love…
What have you done?” “Don’t. Leave me alone, okay? Just…” Xander was barely out of the room before Spike had his cell
in his hand, fumbling over Angel’s number.
He staunchly believed that Xander was capable of fulfilling this little
horror story, and he waited impatiently as Angel’s apartment phone rang and
rang. He tried the office next but, no, the drones hadn’t seen
their boss today, but that was quite usual, as Spike knew. Yes, Spike did know, but that didn’t make him
feel any better. Spike dialled Angel’s
cell, knowing that it was pointless, rapidly having the pointlessness confirmed
by being immediately directed to voicemail. He’d know, surely he’d know?
If Xander had dusted Angel, his grand-sire, surely he’d experience a
preternatural…something? But his senses
were so dull, maybe… The shock hit him; experiencing a sudden moment of complete
emotional and physical weakness, Spike crumpled to the floor. Hamish appeared out of nowhere and came to sit
beside him, almost toppling Spike over as he used him for a leaning post. “This it?” Spike said to neither of them in particular. “This the way of it? The mighty Angelus taken out by a jealous
boyfriend?” Spike dialled the apartment again and let the phone ring. Okay. Spike knew he
had to deal with this rationally. Or as
rationally as possible. Even if his
grandsire was now particulate swirling in draughty corners, even if Spike was
being torn all ways by a multitude of conflicting emotions, his foremost
concern had to be Xander’s precarious state of mind. He had to dismiss the intense fear that Angel’s potential
loss instigated, the abrupt reminder of his own vulnerability: it couldn’t be
his priority. Getting himself and Xander
through this with the pair of them undamaged was. However confused his human was at the moment,
however much he’d shocked himself with the real or fantasised destruction of
his grandpa, it wouldn’t be too long before he refocused on the cause of this
drama, and a miserable, believing-himself-cheated Xander was a man of mindless
fury and a swinging axe. Spike wasn’t
fooling himself: this was a long way from over. But for now, huddling closer to Hamish’s warmth and listening to the ceaseless drone of the ring tone, Spike did as he was asked and left Xander alone.
|
|
|
|
|
| Site Updates Update List Home Fiction Gallery Links Feedback |
