Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: R right now, will be NC17 in later chapters, if they're written
Disclaimer: These boys belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and all companies associated with the series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They are not mine. I just have more fun with them.
Warnings/Squicks: None at the moment, but I haven't a clue where this will go.

Summary: Xander is kidnapped by a demon. Not influenced by the extraordinarily wonderful Stranger Things by Esmeralda [info]tolerik at all. Nuh-uh.

Beta: None, but [info]eyezrthewindows, [info]amejisuto and [info]suki_blue have said it doesn't completely suck. Blame them. *g*

Notes: Happy birthday, Darkhavens. You're dear to my heart and I don't tell you so often enough.

Losing It


Xander was scared. He'd been walking through the cemetery, minding his own business, when suddenly he'd been grabbed from behind, wrestled to the ground then slung over someone's shoulder. Someone ... something ... not human, judging by the scales chafing his left cheek as it rested against the creature's back. He squirmed and wriggled, trying to escape, but no luck. The damn thing was just too strong. He wriggled again, but a steely arm pressed down, preventing movement.

The demon broke into a jog and nausea threatened to overwhelm Xander. But damned if he was going to throw up down the thing's back. He had some pride, after all. Well ... maybe not so much.

He screamed for help at the top of his lungs. Nothing. No saviour on the horizon.

Patrolling had finished for the night and Xander had found himself alone and heading back to his basement. Possibly not a good idea. But the rest of the gang couldn't be too far away. Unless ... unless they'd all been caught as well.

Maybe he should have paid more attention to Giles' pre-patrol briefing.


"There are some new boys in town, I'm afraid. A race of empath demons." Blank eyes faced him.

"They suck the emotion from their victims in order to live," explained the Watcher patiently.

Buffy huffed. "That's dumb. How can anything live on emotion?" She stopped, confused. "I mean ... emotions are important ... but how can anything ... I don't get it!" she wailed.

"There, there," soothed Giles. "I understand your doubts but try to understand. Strong emotions emit a force, a radiation, if you will, upon which a few demon races thrive. The Garkles are one of them. They, however, prize human emotion amongst all others. We appear to be the most unrestrained race in our outpourings and they'll do almost anything to capture, imprison and feed from a human's innermost feelings until he or she is sucked dry."

He looked down and played with the arms of his glasses. "I would beg you all to be very careful tonight. Once captured, no human has ever been retrieved from a nest of Garkles."


The demon had picked up its pace and Xander lost track of their direction.

RIP. Ginny West. Much Loved Mother and Wife. 1952-1973. Whoa, thought Xander, she didn't get much from the stack.

Michael Henderson. Respected Grandfather and Father. 1907-2003. Much better. Old Michael had one hell of a long life. Xander was a bit disturbed by the word "respected", though. "Loved" was much better.

He wondered who would remember him with love. His parents; that was a given. They'd never been close but he figured they liked him well enough. And parents had to love their kids, didn't they?

Willow. Now, she definitely loved him. They'd been friends right through kindergarten and grade school and high school and ... she loved him. Just like he loved her.

Buffy. He'd spent the last four years trying to help Buffy. Okay, so it wasn't entirely disinterested. It'd made him feel good. Useful. Until Buffy had come to town he'd never known his place in the world. Now he did. His place was to be one of the Slayer's sidekicks. Not so bad at all. For all he knew, she might have been dead but for him. Hell, he knew she would have been dead but for him.

Giles. His good friend, mentor, teacher. Giles loved him, he was almost sure. In a fatherly, mentory way.

His heart swelled with affection. All these people cared about him and would miss him.

He felt the demon buck.

Spike ...

"You're an idiot, boy. There is no way in the wide world that American TV is better than English TV. Sorry, British TV. Gotta be with the old 'pc' now, don't we?" Spike snorted. "Yeah, fucking right. 'Friends' is so much better than 'Only Fools and Horses'. 'Frasier' beats 'Fawlty Towers' hands down. Idiot boy."

Xander sighed. "How many times are you going to call me an idiot, Spike?"

"How many days are there in a month? How many months are there in a year? A millennium, an aeon?!" Spike was beyond pissed off. "That's how many times," he shouted.

Xander cringed. "Look, just calm down. You can watch 'Dad's Army' if you really want to. I'm only paying for the cable." Xander retreated into the corner of the sofa for a good sulk.

Spike snuck over to Xander's corner of the sofa and put his hand on the boy's thigh. He was undeterred when it was shaken off and immediately replaced it. This time, Xander remained still.

"I'm sorry, Harris. Your cable; your call."

Xander turned to look at him consideringly.

"Really? You won't get antsy if I want to watch what I ... uh, want to watch? Even if it's that crazy Australian guy with the crocodiles?"

Spike laughed. "Especially if it's that crazy Australian guy. I wanna see him get eaten. Now!"

Spike and Xander settled down for a good night's viewing. Spike's hand was still on Xander's thigh.

Spike's head gradually dropped sleepily onto Xander's shoulder. Xander's arm snuck half-heartedly around the vampire's narrow shoulders. He pulled Spike against his body. Maybe Spike wasn't so bad, after all. He hadn't tried to hurt any of them for a while and he was chipped so ... maybe he deserved a break. Maybe he deserved a tiny, tiny bit of affection. Only when he was asleep and didn't know about it, of course.

Xander's head was suddenly too heavy for his neck to bear. His arms closed around Spike and he dropped into a heavy sleep.

Xander had given up trying to escape. The demon who had him in a vice-like grip was never going to let go. Xander had squirmed and punched and slapped until his hands were numb and he knew he was trapped. He'd better try to be quiet now and wait for a chance to escape, he silently decided.

The demon, Xander still slung over its shoulder, continued on its merry way until it found the entrance to its nest and dived inside.

After traversing several tunnels they reached a large cavern. Dropping its head, the demon paced towards a generously proportioned chair -- throne -- set in the middle of the chamber. A huge Garkle female was seated in the chair, overseeing the minions waiting to do its bidding.

Stepping forward to face its queen, the demon dropped Xander to the ground. It crossed its hands over its breast and spoke clearly. "I have one. I have a human leader." Its voice was strong and proud. "I have an alpha male of the human race. It will provide us with much sustenance."

Xander whimpered inside. He wasn't an alpha male. He was nothing. Why was the demon talking about him that way?

Why could he understand the demon's words? They weren't in English yet they were as clear as a bell to him. He tried to rouse himself from the stupor that had gripped him and rose shakily to his feet.

"Please, l don't understand any of this. Let me go home," he pleaded.


The End

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