The Spander Christmas Cracker

Home for Christmas 1
by
Liz

 

 

Xander dug the crumpled list out of his jeans' pocket as he hopped down the last few steps to the recessed door of Willow's favorite magic shop du jour.  Normally, he wouldn't be the one sent out on spell ingredient gathering errands—who could have guessed that the legacy of one Valentine's Day spell going wrong would have that long of a shelf-life, and ,okay, so there was the whole summoning of a singing and dancing demon that didn't turn out exactly as advertised either.  But the holiday season had everyone else scrambling either to finish last minute holiday gift shopping or beating back the forces of evil enough to guarantee a quiet few days off for Christmas.  Having neither shopping nor slaying tasks, Xander got handed a list and pressed out into the rainy London evening with strict instructions not to deviate from the clearly numbered and alphabetized list of items.  

 

"Hail Moira, mistress of the magical mysteries!" Xander called out merrily over the chimes of the obligatory bell that announced his entry into the shop.  

 

"Xander, luv!" The short, stocky woman with long black hair shot through with subtle white streaks appeared from the back room, rubbing blue gunk off her hands with a dish towel.  "Ready to hop on board for the mystery tour today?"  

 

He snorted and gathered her into a quick, hard hug.  While he wasn't a regular customer, they had hit it off immediately when he tagged along with Willow, and having her help boost the warding spells around the myriad of slayer lairs placed around London had further endeared her to him and the rest of the restructured Council.  

 

"Nah, not sure I'd survive the ride!"  He laughed and released her.  "I'm in hunter-gatherer mode today."  He handed over the list with aplomb, watching her eyes narrow as she skimmed over the items with a slight frown.

 

"Not much more than flash and sparkles in this, lad. You sure this is what the little witch wants?"

 

"Yep, this is one time that less bang is better.  Willow and Dawn are making those crackly things for the big holiday ho-down. "

 

"Ah, Christmas crackers," Moira nodded fondly.  "Used to make those with my mum back in the day."  She gestured to the small seating area with a battered table and two padded chairs that had seen better days.  "Have a seat, and I'll get these things together for you."

 

"Need any help with the carrying?  I'll have you know I'm a great pack mule—trained by the best shoe shoppers in Southern California."

 

Moira waved away his offer to help before pausing in thought.  "Nothing here to strain my delicate constitution, but if you're inclined to help, I wouldn't say no to a spot of tea.  The tea things are laid out in the kitchen.  I was just about to indulge when a rather large American barged with his petty demands for service."

 

"Rather large?  I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered by that." Xander headed down around the counter to enter the personal part of the store, calling back over his shoulder, "Therefore, I choose to be...Spike?"

 

"Harris."

 

Xander stared at the gaunt vampire slumped over a glass of what looked to be whiskey at the kitchen counter next to the tea tins.  He blinked.  Yep, Spike was still there.  He had to be catching up with Buffy's record for returning from the grave.  And yes, maybe that thought was a bit on the hysterical side, but Spike...SPIKE...was standing not four feet away from him in a magic shop in London, not dusting the streets of Los Angeles as they had surmised.  

 

"What?  How?  Uh..."  

 

"Still the brilliant conversationalist."  

 

Xander watched Spike lift the glass and toss back the remainder of the whiskey.  In the background, the shop bell tinkled merrily, but Xander still heard the rough swallow as he watched Spike's throat work.  The slamming of glass on Formica brought his attention back to the larger situation.

 

"What are you doing here?"

 

"Getting pissed. What's it look like?" Spike reached for the bottle resting next to the tea tin.

 

Xander frowned at the shaking in Spike's hands.  Dark circles had taken up what looked like permanent residence under dull blue eyes.  Without realizing he had moved, Xander reached out and placed his hand over the cold, thin fingers that gripped the bottle.

 

"I'm supposed to make some tea for Moira.  What with you being British and all, you'd probably do a better job.  How ‘bout switching poisons for a while?  Not that tea is poison, but then we are in a magic shop, and my luck being what it is, I'd probably end up picking out the one that turns me into a newt.  Then there will be the harvesting of the eyes for spells because eye of newt?  So much better than the generic, according to Willow."  He trailed off at the incredulous expression that slowly gave way to a rusty chuckle as Spike shook his head, bemused.

 

"Get out, you buggering gits! "  Moira's angry shout had both men moving back to the shop, tea and whiskey forgotten.

 

The shopkeeper stood with hands on hips, facing off with four growling teenaged vampires, one of whom cradled a colorful box in his arms.  

 

"You'll pay for that or put it back."

 

The vampire with the box hissed and backed toward the door as Moira raised her hands, pulling blue sparks of power from the air.  The closest vamp lashed out and backhanded the witch, shattering the spell and allowing the thieves to dash out the front door.

 

As the bell jangled harshly, Xander slid to his knees next to Moira, checking for damage while Spike stood with clenching his fists and shooting glances between the downed woman and the retreating vampires.  

 

"Ruddy savages," Moira mumbled as she sat up, holding a hand to the bruise forming on her cheek.  She accepted Xander's help getting to her feet.  

 

"I'm fine, pet.  Not to worry." She patted Xander's hand.  He began to lead her to the table and chairs at the back of the shop.  The sharp jangling of the bell startled him into turning back toward the now empty front of the store.

 

Moira's grip dug into his arm, and she hissed, "Go after him!  The bloody fool has no business taking on four of ‘em at once."

 

"Huh?" Xander quickly did the math.  Four vampires.  One Spike.  As far as he could tell, the odds were stacked against the thieves.

 

"You've a stake or two on you?"  

 

He nodded and rummaged in his jacket pocket.

 

"Go!"  She shoved him toward the front door.  

 

The fear and concern in her eyes had him obeying without further thought.  He still had no clue exactly what the connection was between Moira and Spike, but her worry indicated more than a passing acquaintance.

 

To his surprise, Xander quickly came within a few running paces behind Spike, despite the vampire's head start and usually superior speed.  He followed as Spike ducked around a corner into an alley a few blocks up from the shop.  

 

In the darkness of the alley, a hand reached out and pulled Xander back against the wall.  The filtered light from the street lamps glimmered off Spike's hair, identifying Xander's assailant.  

 

"Hey!" Xander protested, rubbing the inevitable bruise that would be appearing in a few hours from the strength of Spike's hold.

 

"Quiet!" Spike hissed.

 

A sharp pop sounded.

 

"What'd'ya get?" Greed and excitement colored the voice of what Xander assumed was one of the vamps they were chasing.

 

"Fuck!  It's a sodding riddle!" Disgust permeated the answer.

 

"Maybe it's a clue? Do another one."

 

Two more sharp pops sounded.  Spike crept forward a few feet, peering around the corner of the dumpster that he had stationed them behind.

 

"I got a plastic crown."

 

"What the fuck is this?  A yo-yo?"

 

"I thought you said if we took ‘em from a witch they'd be like in Harry Potter!"

 

Before Xander could comment on the lameness that passed for vamp holiday hijinks, Spike shot out into the alley.  Xander scrambled to follow, stake poised even though he didn't expect to get much of a chance to use it.  Still, hurrying felt appropriate, if only to get to watch the deadly beauty of Spike's kills.

 

In the brief moment he had to decipher the scene, Xander praised Buffy for making sure that he had been trained to move quick and stake quicker.  Instead of skilled grace, Spike killed with clumsy yet pure aggression.  Rage distorted his features as Spike swung and kicked awkwardly at whatever opponents' body part was closest.

 

Suddenly the odds he had placed on Spike shifted, and Xander dashed forward to grab the vampire that approached his unaware friend from behind.  Unfortunately, the sudden dust flying from Spike's kill choked Xander on an inhaled breath, and the vamp heard him coming.  No longer stalking Spike, the vampire turned and slammed Xander back against the cold, wet bricks of the alley wall.

 

"Yer mum never warn ya that ya shouldn't be out after dark?"

 

Xander struggled to raise his stake as the vampire leaned closer.  He pressed his head back away from the foul breath and sharp teeth.

 

"No, but there might have been a word or two about carrying a sharp stick."  He plunged the stake toward the vamp's heart, only to have it deflected as the vampire latched onto his neck.

 

Pain lanced through him, forcing out an inarticulate yell that meant to be a call for help, but he could still hear Spike beating on the remaining two vampires further down the alley.  Gathering his strength, Xander lunged forward once more with the stake, and with more determination than skill slammed it home and breathed in yet another cloud of dust.

 

"I so hope Willow's right about vamp dust not causing cancer," he coughed as he staggered forward to find Spike.

 

Both of Spike's opponents looked much the worse for their encounters with fists and feet, and they appeared to be trying to escape rather than continue the fight.  Spike showed more interest in beating them than staking them, which turned Xander's concern to anger.

 

"Spike!  Stake the bastards, already!"  Xander moved to ram his stake into one of the vamps that crumpled to the ground after a particularly vicious kick.   This time he remembered to hold his breath through the resulting dust cloud.  A moment later, the last vampire disappeared, leaving Spike and Xander alone in the alley.

 

"What the hell was that?"  Xander advanced to where Spike stood, hands still clenching and unclenching as he stared at the settling dust.  "Hey!  I know you've been gone for a while, but the goal is still stake and move on, not spend the maximum time possible pummeling them into the ground."

 

"They hurt Moira."  Spike glanced around the alley, as if looking for further opponents.  His gaze came to rest on the ripped packaging.  Two bright blue and gold crackers remained in the torn box, and Xander watched, incredulous, as Spike gently picked up the package.  

 

"I got bit, and you're worried about a couple of Christmas trinkets?"

 

At that, Spike's head snapped around , and his eyes unerringly fell on the blood dripping down Xander's collar.  The sorrow and guilt that haunted the vampire's once again blue eyes tamped down Xander's anger and reminded him of Moira's concern.

 

He took a deep breath and lowered hi s voice.  "Hey, buddy, what d'ya say we take these back to Moira?  Maybe grab an ice pack for that black eye you're gonna have and get me a couple bandages?"

 

Spike glanced down at the box in his hands and nodded, worryingly subdued.  

 

Moira was up and across the room as soon as she heard the bell ring.  "Into the kitchen with the both of you."

 

Xander sat quietly under her ministrations, surreptitiously watching Spike, who seemed to huddle smaller into the kitchen chair that Moira had placed him on, ice pack pressed to his right eye.  More than once Xander caught Moira's concerned glances as well, and he found himself torn between telling her about Spike's out of control and uncoordinated attacks and keeping silent to spare Spike further scolding.

 

With a sigh, Moira placed the last of the tape in place and patted Xander's shoulder.  "I've got yer list of goodies all bagged up.  And now you're patched up, you should be getting home."

 

Xander nodded but bit his lip and couldn't prevent a questioning glance in Spike's direction.   He flicked his attention back to find Moira studying him before turning decisively to Spike.

 

"Let me see that eye."  

 

Wordlessly, Spike lowered the ice pack and turned his head to give her a better view.  

 

"Well, you'll not be winning any beauty contests this week, but you'll live."

 

Spike snorted, and Xander wasn't prepared to put money down on whether the sound communicated amusement or despair.  

 

Xander watched Moira take the ice pack and drop it in the sink, then he stood, unsure how to say goodnight and make a tactful exit after the evening's revelations.  Before he could speak, Moira leaned forward to stroke tender knuckles down Spike's unmarked cheek and bent to whisper in the vampire's ear.  Xander couldn't hear what she said, but it had Spike sitting backward quickly with a deep frown.  It felt like long tense moments passed as they stared at one another before Spike nodded in defeat and looked away.

 

"Um, I'll just be heading out now.  You know, to home, where the heart is and the juvenile delinquent vampires aren't."

 

"Take this one with you," Moira nodded toward Spike.

 

"Huh?" Xander figured at some point in his life that response would get old, but it had served him well for many years and tonight was clearly not the night to give it up.

 

Spike grimaced in pain and rose to his feet.  Xander could see him struggling to pull the Big Bad mantle around him.

 

"I know the rules. No touchin' the comic books and no bloody mugs left laying around."

 

"You forgot no wet towels on the bathroom—or any other—floor. And I didn't say you could stay, yet."  The guilty look on Spike's face had him quickly adding, "But mi casa is once again su casa."

 

Agreement reached, Moira bustled them out of the kitchen and back out into the shop, handing them bags filled with Willow's goodies.  

 

"Oh, since you managed to save the last two in the box, take these as well." Without waiting for agreement, Moira carefully placed the salvaged crackers into one of the bags that Xander carried.  She gave him a quick hug and whispered to him fondly, "Take care of the both of you, poppet."

 

 

To be continued...

 

 

 

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