It takes his brain a few too many seconds to go from hot-club-guy-in-platinum-blond-and-black-l
And by the time he makes it there in his mind and makes it there in the room, there’s nothing for Xander to do but throw his own body in front of the train.
And what a train it is.
In retrospect, it seems slightly insane to say that he’s never noticed before how hot Spike is. But then again fear for one’s life and the lives of one’s closest friends tends to be a bit of a distraction.
Of course, the hotness in question has not escaped anyone else’s notice, so when Xander puts himself between vamp and victim, victim is pissed. “Excuse me,” Victim says, “but if you don’t mind, we were about to go somewhere a little more private.”
“Sorry,” Xander says, ignoring Victim to look Vamp in eye, “but I think Spike here would rather step outside with me.”
Spike smirks. “That right, mate?”
“That’s right,” Xander says, pressing his fingernails into his palm to keep his body – and voice – from shaking.
To Xander’s surprise, Spike shrugs and nods toward the alley exit. “After you, then.”
Thus, with the-lucky-idiot-formerly-known-as-Victim glaring daggers at his back, the-foolish-idiot-formerly-known-as-Xand
He expects a flash of fangs and a killing lunge, but only gets a slow and thorough appraisal. He shivers.
Spike leers. “No place to hide a stake in a kit like that.”
A short, sharp laugh bursts from Xander’s throat. “You know, I’m really gonna have to figure something out for that. You have no idea how often this problem comes up.”
“Bit of a change,” Spike notes. “From before.”
Besides Angel, Spike’s the first person from Sunnydale Xander’s seen since L.A. Angel never notices these things.
“Newly gay,” Xander says.
Spike nods. “Suits you.”
“Thanks,” Xander says. “Are you going to kill me now?”
“You always trade your own life to save strangers?”
Xander shrugs. “Didn’t have time for a better plan.”
Spike eyes him, steps closer. “Got a death wish or something?’
Xander resists the urge to step back. “Not particularly.”
Spike leans in until Xander can feel the next words against his neck. “Could make you like it.”
Xander can hardly breathe around the heart in his throat. Suddenly, Spike’s tongue is slithering up the side of his neck and Xander shivers again as his eyes slip closed.
Then, just as suddenly, the tongue is gone.
When he opens his eyes again he’s looking into Spike’s.
“Don’t fancy a vengeful slayer nippin’ at my heels,” Spike says. “Got plans.”
Before Xander can answer, he’s gone.