|
Book 2 in the Second Verse series
Disclaimer: |
|
Musical Wars
by
Litgal
1
Real Life
Xander woke to the warmth of
the bed he now shared with Spike, his lover's arm still curled around his
naked waist. He had to admit that he felt more whole than he had in
recent memory. The voice—which he now could recognize as his own personal
demon—had withdrawn into a happy curl in the back of his brain. He
felt the demon purring at the feeling of *master's* arm wrapped around him,
but the feeling was distant enough that he didn't start an actual auditory
rumble himself.
"Mornin' pet. Bit early, yet," Spike murmured from behind him.
"Yeah, I just feel like I've slept for a week," he admitted as he squirmed
a little. For the time that he stayed with Cassidy, he had been half-asleep,
locked within his own mind as the demon ran the show, and now he itched to
get back to actually living. Speaking of which…
“So what comes next?” he asked Spike. The silence held for a
long time, and he wondered if Spike had gone back to sleep on him.
He turned all the way around so that he lay on his side facing Spike instead
of spooning with him. Blue eyes watched him before Spike turned onto
his back and turned his gaze at the ceiling.
“France maybe, haven’t been to China for a while, pet. Have some good
memories of that place,” Spike finally answered without moving from his place
on the bed, one arm under Xander and the other curled under his own head.
Xander relaxed into the loose embrace, draping one of his own arms over Spike’s
chest.
“Um, I was kinda thinking of things like how do I tell my mother I’ve suddenly
taken up with a man…although the whole vamp thing does seem to trump the
whole man thing—not that I'm planning to tell her about the vamp thing,"
he hurried to say, horrified at even the passing thought of having either
of those conversations with his mother.
“What? You plannin’ on staying here?” Spike turned his head and
cocked a single eyebrow.
“I sure hadn’t considered the option of picking up and moving to China.”
“Didn’t say move, luv. Could just travel through, see the sights.”
Spike’s eyes returned to the ceiling, but he could feel the sudden tension
in Spike’s muscles.
“And I’m suddenly feeling like this is a little more than just a passing
thought.” Xander studied Spike's face, the avoidance of eye contact
and the subtle tensing of Spike's chest beneath his own hand.
“Might be. Just don’t want to be round here too long, not good for
the health.” The nonchalant tone contrasted with the tense twitching
of various muscles.
“Angel?” When Spike looked over in alarm, Xander rushed to explain
his thinking. “I heard how that asshole talks to you. He’s probably
a decent person to Cordelia ‘cause she sure seems to be pretty loyal, but
that doesn’t mean that he isn’t a real jerk to us.” Xander didn’t miss
the narrowing of the eyes at the word ‘us.’
“Don’t like my sire, pet?”
“Don’t like that he doesn’t seem to like you,” Xander explained honestly.
“Yeah, these’s that. More interested in gettin’ you away before the
fireworks, luv.”
“Fireworks?” At his confusion, Spike rolled his eyes and let out a
sigh.
“Oi, you’re smarter than this, pet. You know full well there’s goin’
to be trouble.”
“I think you’re overestimating me, Spike,” he laughed, but the look in Spike’s
eye stopped his laugh in less than a second. The vampire’s eyes flashed
gold and his eyebrows had lowered in a classic look of annoyance bordering
on homicide. “Um, Spike?” he asked, suddenly unsure in the face
of such an unexpected response.
“I’ve heard how you’ve talked about yourself, pet, and it stops now,” Spike
ordered, his voice low and soft and indescribably commanding.
“I don’t kn—”
“Stop,” Spike cut him off mid-word. “You talk in your sleep, pet.
Night after…that,” here Spike waved absent-mindedly toward the far end of
the room where Xander remembered spending an evening chained to the wall
by an angry Spike, “Night after that you talked all night. Laughed
at first. You couldn’t shut up even in your sleep, pet.” Spike
stopped and tightened the arm around him, grabbing him in both arms and pulling
him into a tight embrace that left him resting on Spike’s chest, breathless.
“Then I heard what ya said, what ya thought of yourself--won’t have it.
No one insults my pet,” Spike ended with a declaration; his tone of voice
showed his willingness to enforce the proclamation.
“Spike, you don’t und—”
“I *do* understand, pet. You fought vampires at night, fought your
own demon every wakin’ minute, and you still kept it together.”
“Not very damn together, Spike. I barely graduated. I’ve never
held a job more than five weeks.” He could feel the tears start; he
never cried in front of people. Alone he turned into the mighty manly
water works, but he never cried in front of people and now he struggled to
hold it all in, to not show Spike how truly weak he was.
“Sh, pet. It’s all right.” Spike simply held on, a cool hand
now rubbing up and down his backbone in a gesture that suddenly set the tears
free.
“God, I’m pathetic,” he finally hiccupped out.
“Bloody hell, pet. You’ve survived ten times more than most people.
You survived what my Dru didn’t—you fought the demon inside your soul and
won.” Those words turned the tears off as quickly and the comforting
hand had released them.
“You believe that?” Xander asked, unable to believe that Spike had compared
him to the late Dru and found him better in any way, shape, or form.
He still remembered the night when Spike had told him that he would never
be more than a pet, a human companion who would be protected but always inferior.
“Just don’t ask me to say it again, pet. I’m evil; I’m not supposed
to do this supportive bollocks.”
“Deal. As long as you’re willing to ignore reality and believe it…”
He stopped at the growl that immediately erupted from the chest below his
cheek. “Right, not insulting the vampire’s pet.”
“Right. Now would ya like to try and tell me why there’s goin’ to be
fireworks? You already know the answer.” Spike loosened his grip,
and Xander returned to his place lying beside Spike.
“Not July yet, so I’m coming up clueless.”
“Think about minions, pet—minions and masters.” Xander furrowed his
brow for a moment before a possible theory began to form, and even the fuzzy
edges of the hypothesis he had formed caused his breath to catch in his throat,
panic causing the demon buried in his subconscious to suddenly growl its
way to life and stir.
“Oh shit, I killed Cassidy,” he whispered. He almost laughed when he
felt the joy and pride from the small piece of demon he had inherited from
Cassidy’s bite. Once the demon had howled for Cassidy and happily groveled
on the floor for the now-dead vampire. Now the demon belonged to Spike
so much that it roared with pleasure at the thought of killing Spike’s enemies.
However, he pushed the demon aside with practiced ease, and he felt the demon
yield to his prodding. “And because Cassidy is dead, a lot of minions
are running around without a master to control them.”
“Yeah, and Peaches sure didn’t accept any minions, leavin’ them to take shelter
on the streets,” Spike added.
“And without a master, they’ll hunt indiscriminately,” he finished, suddenly
getting a clear picture of just how dangerous the streets of L.A. would be
when the minions found enough courage or suffered enough hunger to return
to hunting.
“That’s part of it, pet. But many of those minions were older—some
were even childer of fallen masters. Ya need childer or other younger
masters if you want workers who can do more than eviscerate enemies.”
“How many is ‘some’?” Xander asked nervously, suddenly very afraid of the
picture that began to solidify in his imagination.
“From what I saw in his soddin’ little ‘court,’ I’d say at least fifteen
or twenty vamps had enough years under ‘em.” He didn’t even need to
ask Spike what ‘enough’ meant; he knew.
“Oh shit. Fifteen or twenty vamps are going to try and set up as masters,”
he whispered in horror.
“Yeah, pet, they are, and then they’ll fight over minions and territory.”
“Oh god, Gunn.” Spike suddenly growled, and for the first time, Xander
felt his demon urge him to yield to Spike, to show his neck and kneel at
his master’s feet. He had to gasp and grab the headboard to prevent
his demon from hijacking his body.
“Pet?” Spike had gone from angry at the mention of Xander’s friend to concerned
in 0.6 seconds flat.
“I’m fine,” he muttered while he pressed his eyes closed and fought for control.
Always before, the demon wanted something so different from what he wanted
so that he could fight the urges, that is until Cassidy captured him and
he just gave up and yielded total control to the demon. Now, the demon
wanted Spike and he wanted Spike and he struggled to divert the demon’s desire
to submit to his master. He loved Spike, but he had finally earned
the respect he had always wanted, and he wouldn’t give that up just to allow
the demon to sit at master’s feet.
“Luv, you’re not fine; you’re not talkin’.”
“Yeah, the demon just doesn’t like it when we fight,” he explained briefly
as he struggled to get his breathing and his heart rate to return to normal.
“You got control then?” Spike asked with his head cocked to one side.
“Yep. Just having a small psychotic moment—it’ll pass.” Spike
nodded slowly, head still cocked to one side in a concerned expression that
he was quickly loving to love on *his* vampire. Oh yeah, like the voice
in his head wasn’t enough, he now had to have delusions that Spike was his;
that’s not the way the power ran in this relationship, and he knew it.
It might take longer than he thought to get past this latest piece of psychosis.
He finally pulled himself together enough to continue. “We aren’t leaving
with a city-wide vampire disaster looming on the horizon.”
“Little melodramatic, pet.”
“Still not leaving, blondie.”
“And if I said we were?”
“Are you saying that?
“You’re mine, pet. You gave yourself to me.”
“I did, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll do everything you tell me,” Xander
responded after a long pause. He could hear his own demon grumbling
unhappily. Spike appeared equally unhappy if the pinched expression
were anything to go by.
“And what does it mean to ya then, mate?”
“Means when push comes to shove, I’ll always pick you,” he hurried to assure
both demons, the one muttering in his own chest as well as the gold-eyed
one lying on the bed next to him. “Means I’ll always fight on your
side and listen to your advice… and love the feeling of your hand on my skin.”
He added the last as he took Spike’s hand and laid it on his own stomach.
The cool fingers spread out and then began rubbing, and he could feel Xander
Jr. begin to take notice, his cock twitching slightly at the feeling.
“Means no one else in the world will ever touch me like this and I’ll never
depend on anyone else this much and I’ll never trust anyone else to know
who I really am and what I really feel.”
“But no blind obedience.”
“Nope, not really good at the obedience thing. Not even very good at
the following directions thing, so obedience is *way* out of my league.”
“So what do ya expect to do round here, pet? You want to go find your
Gunn, tell him what’s comin’? He’ll want to know how ya know, pet.”
“Yeah, I figured that one out already. How much time to we have before
all hell breaks lose?”
“A vampire war is not *all* hell, trust me. Got sent to hell for a
month once when one of Dru’s spells went wonky…at least a hell dimension…was
a mite bit messier than one little vampire war that most humans won’t even
notice. They’ll just pass it off as one more gang war.”
“Fine, how long until partial hell?”
“Right now, those that’re older are probably tryin’ to set up territory,
maybe trying to attract some minions. They’ll keep quiet for another
few days. May have more vamps hunting on the streets now since minions
hunt more without someone to control ‘em. Once the territories get
marked, the vamps’ll start fighting over who owns what. Could be a
day or a week, doubt any longer than that.” Xander fought to concentrate
as Spike hand continued its movement. "Unless some old master comes
in and fights them all into submission," Spike finished, and he could feel
himself tremble under Spike's talented hands.
"Hey, no fair. You've already had your chance at the naughty touching,
and I haven't," Xander pointed out as he captured the hand and brought it
up to his lips so that he could kiss the pads of the fingers before releasing
it. Slowly he raised himself and slipped one leg over Spike's body so that
he crouched over the vampire and looked down at the amused blue eyes.
The demon in his head shifted uncomfortably, and Xander shoved at it unmercifully
before returning his attention to Spike.
"I don't have to be fair, pet. I'm evil."
"Be quietly evil, please," he whispered into Spike's ear as he reached out
and took an earlobe between his teeth and nipped before moving down to suck
and lick at Spike's neck. He could feel Spike's erection begin growing
next to his own, the two cocks nestled together between their bodies.
He moved his mouth down to a collarbone, exploring it from the neck out to
the shoulder. Remembering how he felt when under Spike, he pulled back
slightly and blew across the still damp skin. He felt Spike tremble,
and he couldn't resist nipping again as the skin under him shivered.
From the movement he felt below, he guessed it was a good twitch.
Sliding down the slim body, he turned his attention to one nipple, the darker
skin already hardened and wrinkled into a point. He ran his tongue
around the edge of the nipple before closing his mouth over the skin and
sucking. The body under him bucked, and he simply transferred his mouth
to the second nipple while he used his fingers to alternately stroke and
pinch the first. When he raised his head, he found himself straddling
a demon in full game face.
He reached up, curious, and ran his thumb over the ridges on Spike's forehead.
He had expected the skin to be tougher or thicker, but it wasn't. The
soft skin followed the ridges that had formed under the skin, and he followed
these formations with his thumb, aware that Spike now squirmed beneath him.
A sudden image of Ferengi oo-max flashed through his mind and he felt a giggle
slip out.
"Oi, not proper to giggle when you're feelin' up your lover, pet."
"I just…" Xander laughed again, but at least this time it came out a snort
rather than a giggle, slightly more manly. "I had an image of a Ferengi
getting his ears stroked," he admitted. Spike simply rolled his eyes
as he slipped back into his human face.
"Bloody hell, why do I get all the loons?"
"Hey, you made the bumps go away!" he complained, frustrated that he
hadn't gotten to finish his exploration.
"You laughed at 'em, luv. That just evil, and *not* in a good way."
"Bring them back and I'll do something to make it up to them," he promised
in a low voice as he moved up and brought his tongue out to touch the bridge
of Spike's nose. Almost instantly, he could feel the skin wrinkle under
his tongue. He ran his tongue up the ridges, feeling it bounce over
every bump as he worked his way back to the brow ridges, which he now explored.
Again, after he had left each damp patch behind him, he would pull back and
blow over the skin, and each time, he could feel the resulting tremor in
the body under him.
When he had explored every inch, he moved down to the mouth, but he felt
strangely hesitant; he'd never before initiated a kiss with a man, he always
responded to what the other wanted. True, he could count the number
of kisses on one hand: the men at the club and Spike last night. However,
he didn't quite know how to approach such an intimate act, and he certainly
didn't know how to do with a partner whose fangs could easily damage him.
Spike must have felt the hesitation because he moved for the first time,
slipping a hand behind his head and pulling him into that mouth. He
felt their lips connect, and he instantly opened, giving Spike access to
his whole mouth even as he gingerly stretched out his tongue and explored
the new shapes: the sharp little front teeth, the long fangs on the top,
the still dull teeth on the bottom. Exploration over, he turned to truly
kissing his lover, his lips brushing over Spike's lips; using his teeth to
gently nip Spike's lower lip, his tongue wrapping around Spike's fang until
he could feel the prick of the point.
When he had teased until he though he would die, he started sliding down
Spike's body, kissing and nipping as he moved in on his target. However,
when faced with Spike's cock, he suddenly froze, completely unsure of how
to approach such an act. He could feel his own heartbeat speed up as
he considered the fact that here he was, with no practical experience at
all, in bed with a 120 demon who had probably had more lovers in his life
than Xander had ever known people. God, what if he screwed this up?
What if he just sucked at it? What if he couldn't suck at it?
What if he didn't like sucking at it? He tried hard to control his breathing,
but he knew he had failed when he felt Spike's hand at his head.
"It’s okay, pet. I don't expect anythin' here," Spike crooned with a soft
caress to his hair.
"It's not…” he didn't know how to finish.
"Not what?" Spike asked with infinite patience, not even complaining about
the hard cock with a single drop of milky-white pre-cum slowly sliding down
the shaft.
"I don't know what…" he stopped again. God, how pathetic of a lover
was he? Surely Spike could find someone who didn't hyperventilate at
the thought of being intimate. Could probably even find someone who
knew what the hell he was doing.
"'S'all right. Just touch it," Spike suggested. "Run your finger
up it." He reached out and did what Spike said, running through the
pre-cum drop as he trailed two fingers up and down the shaft. Remember
the older man from the bar, he slowly lifted two damp fingers to his mouth
and sucked off the fluid. From the way Spike gasped for breath, he
guessed that he had done right.
"Touch the head, pet." He did just that. He played with the folds
of skin that surrounded the head, pulling them up to play with the unfamiliar
foreskin. When he let go, the foreskin slipped back down, the head
barely poking out. He ran a finger around the slit of the head and
felt his own cock twitch in sympathetic joy as Spike threw back his head
and gasped for breath. "Go on, pet," Spike encouraged him in a shaky
voice, and he suddenly felt empowered—he could make a 120 year old demon
gasp for breath that he didn't need. With that encouragement, he lowered
his head and slipped his tongue along the slit. The pre-cum, salty
and slightly fishy, tasted much stronger now that he took it from its source,
licking along the head and shaft to recover the fluid. Taking a deep
breath, he slipped his mouth over the head and twirled his tongue around
the end as he began sucking.
"Bloody hell," gasped a voice under him, and he felt a hand grab his wrist,
pushing his hand to the base of Spike's penis. "Press here," Spike
ordered and he felt his fingers pressed into Spike's flesh. "Otherwise, we're
gonna be done right quick." He would have smiled at the thought of
making Spike lose control, but his mouth had other work. He slid his
mouth up and down the shaft, letting his tongue play, wiggling over the line
that ran down the underside of Spike's cock and to his balls. He pulled
back his head and worked his tongue under the edge of the foreskin, pulling
it gently to make room for his exploration. He slid down again and
sucked as hard as he could. It was almost like it didn't matter what
he did, Spike still gasped and squirmed.
Opening his mouth as wide as he could, he sucked in as much air as possible
through his mouth, causing the cold air to rush by Spike's damp skin, and
the vampire bucked so hard that he found himself gagging as the cock hit
the back of his throat. He knew that many people could relax enough
to deep throat, but either Spike was larger than normal or his own throat
was smaller than normal because there was no way he could get that down.
Instead he pulled back slightly as he tried to control his gagging.
Spike must not have noticed because he continued to rock his hips up, so
Xander simply closed his fist around the base of Spike's cock and squeezed
so that the entire length couldn't slip in too far and choke him.
Then he relaxed and let Spike thrust while he worked his tongue around whichever
part of Spike's anatomy he could reach at the time, careful to make sure
that he didn't get caught in the foreskin as Spike thrust up more and more
powerfully. He released the fingers Spike had positioned as he felt
the muscles tremble under him, and with one final thrust, he felt his mouth
fill with the strong taste of semen. He gasped, and then started coughing
wildly as he felt the fluid trickle into his lungs. Pulling his head
to the side and still coughing, he closed his hand around Spike's shaft tightly
as Spike continued to slam his hips up as one spurt followed another.
Soon, the movement stilled, and he released Spike to concentrate on his own
pathetic attempts to breath.
"Alright, pet?" Spike asked as he finally managed to catch his breath and
cough out the irritating fluid.
"Yeah, less than impressive end, there," he gestured toward the bed as he
felt embarrassment color his cheeks.
"Not complainin'," Spike commented mildly, "but doesn't seem like we're finished
yet." He suddenly felt himself flipped onto his back and his own cock
surrounded by a slightly warmer than room temperature mouth. He reached
down to grab Spike's head, to touch, to do something, but Spike caught his
hands in his own and pressed them into the mattress on either side of his
hips even while sliding all the way down on Xander's cock, Xander struggled
not to thrust up as a squeezing sensation milked his cock before Spike slowly
pulled back with a delicious suction.
He struggled to free himself and respond to the onslaught of pleasure, but
his hands remained pinned to the bed, and Spike lay on his legs, immobilizing
them completely. All he could do was squirm as Spike deliberately and
slowly alternated between sucking as a talented tongue explored the head
of his cock and deep throating as powerful muscles massaged the shaft.
He cried out and gave up on control, thrusting wildly, but Spike pinned him
to the bed and the little movement he managed simply caused the slender figure
to move up and down with him. Spike laughed, even with a cock in his
mouth, and remained in control as he slid up and down more quickly now.
Xander screamed as he felt his balls tighten and his leg muscles begin to
tremble; he arched off the bed and gasped for breath as he shot one spurt
after another, each neatly caught in Spike's mouth and swallowed without
choking, sputtering or gagging.
Wow. Just wow. He couldn't even form other words as Spike slid
up and pulled him into an embrace. Yep, wow covered it. He only
wished he could have offered Spike such a good time, but he could hardly
be expected to compete with 120 years of experience. Experience that
could leave a person with no words in the brain other than wow.
"Wow," he finally said out loud. Spike chuckled.
"Pet, you are a treat. Got half a mind to chain you here and keep ya
in my bed all the time." The two lay there, tangled in each other's
limbs until he felt his bladder begin to complain about the lack of attention.
“Well that was a nice diversion, but it still seems to me that we have to
get back to real life, starting with a pottie break."
“Real life’s overrated, pet.” Spike mumbled without moving.
“Yeah, but the longer I’m away, the more difficult it’s going to be to explain.”
“Not dark yet.”
“Not vampire yet. I mean,” he stumbled when he realized what he had
said, “not vampire ever, not going there, never, like not ever.”
“Know what ‘never’ means, pet. Demon got away from ya there?”
“Yeah, I think so. Either that or I just opened my mouth before consulting
with my brain. I do that,” he muttered.
“Noticed once or twice,” Spike agreed without rancor as he rolled over onto
his stomach, facing away. “Goin’ to Gunn’s then?” Xander heard
the tremor in Spike’s voice, and he wondered how much control it took for
Spike to say that without pinning him to the bed and chaining him to the
wall.
“Have to talk to my mother, Spike.” He didn’t miss the fact that Spike
suddenly relaxed, the contours of his body eased so that Spike’s back, which
had been a roadmap of muscles leading from bone to bone, smoothed out into
an expanse of pale skin. “I won’t talk to Gunn without you there,”
he promised.
“What ya going to tell your mum?”
“God, I figure I’ll figure that out when I get there.” Spike turned
his head and raised one eyebrow in amusement.
“So you’re just going to blither and hope she figures out the main points?”
Spike teased.
“Ha-ha, Mr. Evil Dead. Do you want me to meet you back here?”
“No, don’t come here alone.” Spike must have noticed the hurt and confusion
because a slim hand reached out and caressed brown curls. “You can't
watch out for critters followin' ya 'cause you don’t have vamp senses, least-wise
not most of the time. I don’t want some stray vamp followin’ ya back
here. I can meet you at your mum’s or you can get to the club before
dark and I’ll meet ya there.”
“Um, club. I don’t really feel up to a really long conversation with
my mom. I’m still trying to figure out how to break the whole gay thing,
so I’m thinking that I’m just going for the whole moving out thing.
I’ll get my stuff, so I’ll probably have two or three bags.”
“Bloody hell, you’d better not bring any of those god-awful clothes of yours.
If ya don’t have decent kit, I’ll buy ya more.”
“Is that an order, master?” Xander allowed his head to drop and he
looked at Spike from beneath his eyelids. He watched as the rim of
Spike's eyes glittered gold.
“Bloody hell yes, your clothes give me a headache,” Spike grumbled.
"If you show up with one flower, I'll shred your whole bleedin' wardrobe."
"Deal," he laughed. If giving up his wardrobe made Spike happy, he'd
do it. Besides, if he didn't fight about the clothes, he thought he
might have a better chance with the music because he was not going to listen
to punk music all the time, even if it was beginning to grow on him.
He slid off the bed and headed for the bathroom as he mentally reviewed the
contents of his room at home. Yep, Spike was about to meet his collection
of country music greats.
2
Coming Out
Xander slipped into the apartment
a good hour before his mother would come home and two hours before sunset.
The apartment felt strangely empty to him, as though he had never lived there,
but he pushed those thoughts aside as he grabbed a couple of bags and went
into the room that had been his since the night when he and his mother had
snuck out of their last apartment without paying the rent--two weeks after
his father had left them without a word or enough money to pay the monthly
bills.
The music collection and trinkets of his childhood went into the suitcase
first. If he ran out of room, he had no doubt that Spike really would
buy him new clothes, but the pictures and comics that had given him an escape
from life during his early years--those were irreplaceable. He packed
the comic book he won from Jesse, the pictures from his life in Sunnydale,
his country music CD's and cassettes. He used to have more, but his
father had once "punished" him by breaking every single one of his CD's one
at a time. He'd had to save a lot of allowances just to replace his
favorites.
He felt the demon's anger rise to the surface of his mind, and he struggled
to push it back. Four years he had fought with the demon, but now it
just seemed so much harder. He almost wished he had waited until Spike
could come because his demon seemed so much more controllable around Spike;
without Spike he was back to the constant struggle that had become such a
part of his life that he didn't even realized how much effort it took.
Obviously he wasn't strong enough to dominate the demon in any permanent
or meaningful sense, so what did that have to say about his long-term mental
health, he wondered as he sorted his clothes. Wearable jeans, underwear,
and plain shirts in one small pile in a knapsack. Rummage sale rejects,
Hawaiian prints, and just plain ugly went into the large pile on the bed.
When Spike got tired of him, would he even be able to control the demon anymore?
Would he become prey to whatever vampire discovered his secret? His
own mind formed an image, and the horror caused him to actually drop the
load of underwear in his arms. The demon's answer seemed pretty clear:
Angel. If Spike didn’t want him, the other master from Spike's line
would claim him. The demon started pushing, bringing forward thoughts
of Angel's broad shoulders in that sleeveless t-shirt at the theater, the
sight of the large vampire forcing Spike to submit in the dark, the knowledge
that Angel was so much older than Spike. Yeah, the demon didn't have
a problem with the thought of Angel, but Xander fought back. Angel
had rejected Spike; Angel had hurt and abandoned Spike. Angel wasn't
worthy. Angel couldn't always control himself if the stories of Angelus
in Sunnydale were anything to go by. That made him weak. He focused
on the thought of Angel torn between the demon and the soul until his own
demon finally relented and retreated. He bent over to pick up the dropped
underwear as he felt a shiver run through his body-either the demon's desire
or his own revulsion, he wasn't sure which.
Luckily, his mother interrupted his internal conflict with a happy shout.
"Xander!" his mom shouted happily before standing frozen in the doorway to
his room. He could see her eyes harden as she took in his activity.
"Alexander," she began again, far more cautiously, "it's so nice to have
you home. I expected you to come home a few days ago."
"Yeah, I didn't mean to worry you," he sheepishly offered as he tried to
mentally add up the number of days. Let's see—two days sleeping in
Spike's lair, two or three days captured by Cassidy, the night demon-bar
hopping. So not of the good. Okay, he could bluff his way though
this. "Things were so messed up in…" he totally blanked on his cover
story for a moment before it came back to him. "San Diego that I had
to stay there a few extra days to straighten things up because they were
really screwed up…with inventory." He just shut up the minute he realized
that he had blown his chance to get away without drama. His mother
had her stony look that made it clear that short of physical violence he
wasn't getting out without a lecture.
"Really? I thought you said you were going to San Francisco."
The fists on the hips, squared off don't-challenge-mother posture told him
how absolutely screwed he was.
"Okay, I was in town," he admitted before she could trick the truth out of
him. "There was a problem with a competitor and I had to check out
a few places. I just didn't want to have to drag myself back here."
"And you were staying with…"
"A friend," he offered, but he flinched at the uncertainty in his own voice.
"Right, a friend who has invited you to stay a few extra days, perhaps?"
He watched as his mother gestured toward the bed, the open duffle bag, the
suitcase waiting on the floor.
"Um, a friend who asked me to move in?" he responded warily, just waiting
for the maternal eruption.
"A week!" his mother screeched, her voice stabbing into his brain.
"You're moving in with someone after a week!" The fists left the hips
now so that the arms could get in a good swing as she paced, partially in
the room and partially in the hallway. Finally she stopped and glared
at him. "I thought I raised you better than to fall for this big-city
shit about free love and moving in with each other. God, is she pregnant,
Xander?"
"What? Ah, no. Just…no,"
"And you're using protection? God, please tell me you're using protection
every time because you do not want your life ruined by getting some girl
pregnant."
"Geez, Mom, I *so* don't think there's ever going to be risk of that," Xander
snorted and then froze at his mother suddenly shocked expression.
"Xander?" she asked, her voice suddenly cautious, as though afraid he would
bolt for the door, which was actually pretty perceptive of her since he really
was eyeing the space between her body and the door frame and estimating whether
or not he could run for it. "Xander, is there something you want to
talk about?"
"I, um…well…uh….no?"
"Oh god, you're gay," he mother suddenly stepped into the room and sat heavily
on the edge of the bed. "I should have known considering some of the
girls you brought home. That Gretta girl had more testosterone in her
than your father."
"Gabi," he correctly quietly. He couldn't exactly deny it, but he sure
hadn't planned on this conversation tonight.
"God, please tell me he's not that pushy,” his mother asked, her hand running
absent-mindedly through her graying hair.
"Surprisingly, no."
"Surprisingly?" his mother snapped back, picking up on the word and brandishing
it like a weapon. "Why 'surprisingly'? What kind of man are you
seeing?" she demanded.
"He's nice," he quickly declared. "He's a very kind man." Oh
god, please don't ever let Spike find out about *that* comment or he would
never live it down; however, he didn't think proclaiming Spike's evilness
would win points with his mother. "He has his own place downtown, a
nice one bedroom with its own laundry. You'd like him."
"And you're using protection, right?"
"Mom, I'm not having the 'safe-sex' talk with you," he squirmed as he tried
hard to keep any thought of sex as far away from any thought of his mother
as possible. The two just did not ever need to exist in the same place
at the same time.
"Oh good lord, you're blushing to even think about it. Did you have
the guts to talk to your boyfriend about this or are you just trusting luck
to protect you from your own stupidity? If you can't be responsible
enough to talk about this like an adult, you have no business doing anything
with another man until you grow up. So, did you use protection or not?"
Xander stood beside his dresser, pressing himself into the wall as he tried
to remind himself that his mother was speaking out of fear and shock.
Tried to remind the growling demon in his head of that too.
"I can take care of myself, Mom," he chided gently. "He's a good man,
and I'm fine." Of course, he actually doubted each of the three statements
to varying degrees, but he really didn't need to worry his mother with details.
"Then tell me you weren't stupid enough to risk dying just so you could get
your rocks off." Xander almost choked at the crass expression coming
out of his mother's mouth.
"Mom," he began a little louder this time. "I'm not talking to you
about my sex life. Please trust me when I say I know what I’m doing."
He tried hard not to look guilty or sheepish or confused despite the fact
that he felt all three. He watched as the anger drained out of his
mother as though some psychic plug had been pulled.
"Tell me that he's good to you," she whispered, tears clear in her eyes as
she looked up at him. He went over and sat next to her on the bed.
"He is. He makes me happier than I've been since we moved here."
"Please, Xander, please tell me he makes you happier than you've ever been
because you've had too damn little happiness in your life." He could hear
his mother's voice crack as the tears started now. He couldn't remember
the last time he had seen his mother cry; she didn't even cry when his father,
in a rare mood for a physical fight, had backhanded her into the coffee pot.
Brown stains had decorated the wall of the kitchen until they had moved out
of that house in Sunnydale looking for a better life.
"He does, Mom; he honestly does," he promised her as he put an arm around
her shoulders. "Maybe we can come over for my birthday on Thursday,"
he found himself offering.
"Right," his mother snapped out of it as if they had been discussing nothing
more emotional than the weather. She quickly swiped the back of her
hand across her face as she stood up. "Thursday will be the big birthday
bash. I'm getting off work an hour or two early, so the three of us
can order pizza and get some movies."
"Um, I can't make it until dark," he objected. At his mother's
curious look, he continued. "I still have work, Mom. I just started,
so I can't just take off early like some people. In fact, I have to
finish packing and get my butt to work before dark," he finished as he look
at the sun hovering just above nearby roofs. "I wanted to talk with
you, but I didn't think you'd be home this late."
"So you're leaving?" she asked, and he tried not to hear how small her voice
was.
"I have to get to work," he explained. "I'll call; this time I won't
forget," he promised.
"Don't let him forget how special you are," she whispered as she smoothed
his hair away from his face before turning to leave the room. "And
if you want your father to know, you'll just have to tell him yourself because
I am not going to talk to that asshole about this. If I do, you'll
be bailing me out of jail for homicide. Your father is a closed-minded
Neanderthal," she announced briskly as she walked out of his room and into
the bathroom.
He heard the door shut and the lock turn before the water started.
Recognizing the dismissal, he decided to head to the club and see if he still
had a job. Oh god, he had forgotten to even ask Spike if he could keep
his job. The demon mewled in distress as Xander stamped down on it
and decided that he was going to keep his damn job whether the pushy vampire
liked it or not. Unless of course he had already lost the job.
He picked up his two bags and headed for the door. When he stood at
the apartment's front door, he looked down at the key in his hand.
With a sigh, he turned the lock on the doorknob, put the key on the counter,
and then closed the door behind him. No going back he decided.
Xander arrived at Safari mere minutes before opening. Half-dressed
men rushed by him as he slipped in the back door by the freezer and slipped
into the kitchen, hoping to find T. Instead a large man with long hair
pulled up under a fishnet cap worked in the kitchen.
"Um, have you seen T?" he asked as he pressed himself up against the prep
table so that he didn't get in the way of the stream of people rushing back
and forth and put the bags on the floor before carefully maneuvering them
so they were half under the prep table and not in anyone's way.
"Out front," the man snapped before he grabbed a sheet from the oven and
began loading trays.
"Move it sweetcheeks," ordered a familiar voice, and he turned to see a short
Hispanic stripper sneering at him. "You back to get your final check
after walking out?" Xander finally put a name with the face:
Luis. He was about to respond when a deep, familiar voice interrupted
him before he could begin.
"Hey, hey! It's the much-missed food runner," Charlie quipped as he
stole a potato skin out from under the cook's nose. When the cook glared,
Charlie gave a small laugh and winked at the man. "You know you love
me, Ross." Charlie turned back to him. "So, you running away
from home, then?" Xander nervously shifted the two bags with his feet.
"Um, meeting someone here," he admitted.
"Well you go, boy. Shy little virgin one night, moving in with the
beau a week later. Knew you had it in you," Charlie used a shoulder
to push into him. "Course this means that I don't get my shot at you,
but I can wait. When you get tired of this new man in your life, you
come on back to your first crush, deal?" Charlie asked with a wink, and Xander
found himself blushing and choking on air as he tried to come back with a
response to that. Charlie just laughed as he started for the
floor in the Tarzan outfit. "Drop the bags in my dressing room."
He called as he walked out the kitchen.
"Suck up," Luis snarled as he grabbed a tray of food and headed for the floor.
Xander picked up the bags and headed for the back so that he could put them
away before facing the rest of the club. It wasn't until he had reached Charlie's
dressing room and stowed the bags in the small bathroom that he realized
that Xander Jr. hadn't even reacted. He could still look at Charlie
and recognize a near-god of a man, but he wasn't the man Xander Jr. wanted.
Nope, Xander Jr. was more into lithe and blonde. Shaking his head at
how much life could change in a week, Xander went out onto the quickly filling
floor and looked for T.
"My god, darlin', it's about time you got your ass back here," sang out a
voice as soon as he stepped into the hallway. Charlie had obviously
snitched on him.
"T," he responded happily and then realized that he really didn't know what
else to say.
"Oh, you're not getting out of it that easy, you start spilling before I
call Gunn and the guys and have them sit on you till you fess up," T threatened
while opening a door and gesturing for him to follow. Inside he found
T already perched on the edge of a well-worn desk with various stacks of
paperwork waiting patiently.
"Um, I don't know where to start," he finally admitted as he dropped into
one of the two metal folding chairs.
"This vamp hunting thing, was this just cover so you could run off with your
boy?" T asked in a more serious tone than he had ever heard the man use.
Serious with just a hint of anger.
"No!"
"Well then?" T asked after a long silence.
"Spike and I didn't…I mean, we obviously did, but not until after.
Oh shit." Xander couldn't even get his thoughts together enough to
figure out how to tell the story without revealing too much. He closed
his eyes, took a breath, and shoved his demon as far back as he could before
he started again. "Spike wanted to kill a vamp named Cassidy--the same
vamp who was in charge of the nest where Frederick got killed. We've
been hunting him. Spike knows how to hunt vamps better than anyone
I've ever seen, and I helped him find places, including the place Frederick
died. We got attacked, I got hurt, Cassidy got dead, Spike got me somewhere
safe, and now I'm back." Yep, enough truth to sound true, but not so
much truth to get himself kicked out or Spike staked.
"And the bags?" T asked, this time in a far more mild tone.
"Well after the whole killing thing, we sorta, ya know." He blushed
and then looked up when T started laughing.
"Shit, darlin', I always thought that once you found someone you'd lose that
innocent charm, but you've still got the stuff to make a man's heart beat
faster." T stood and clapped him on the shoulder before heading for
the door. "I'm glad you came back; some of the regulars been askin'
about you. In that outfit you'll clean up in tips again tonight."
Huh? Xander looked down and realized that he had dressed in club-wear
with a deep sapphire blue shirt tucked into tight black jeans. He hadn't
even paid attention to what he had pulled out when Spike had opened the armoire
and pointed to a shelf with clothes that would fit him.
"I don't know if Spike…" he stopped at T's suddenly suspicious expression.
"T?"
"Oh cutie, please don't tell me you've fallen in with some man who'll tell
you what to do every minute of the day."
"No," he quickly responded; he didn't need to have T's sympathy. "I
told Spike I'd meet him here and I don't know when he'll show up," he finished
weakly. T's expression remained suspicious, but the man slowly nodded.
"That's okay, you can work until he shows up. When you leave, just
give me a head's up, okay? So, *are* you going to keep working?"
"Don't really know yet, might be too busy," Xander added the last when he
saw the worry and disappointment in T's eyes. Shit, he'd only met the
man a week ago, his disapproval shouldn't matter so damn much, but it did.
He never wanted T to know just how much he needed Spike and Spike's approval.
"Well, you let me know. Going to be some mighty disappointed folks
around here if you don't." T quietly pointed out while opening the
office door for Xander to leave first. He didn't have any
idea what to say to T that would be both true and stop the look of pity and
worry.
"I'm happy," he finally settled on.
"Good for you sweetie," T said as he closed the office door and ushered him
back to the kitchen. "You just make sure that you do what's right for
you." Xander only wished he knew what that would be; it was hard to
tell with both his own thoughts and his demon rattling around. How
could he have assumed the demon was simply his own dark thoughts for all
those years?
"Ross, this is Xander; he'll be running food when he isn't dropping it on
the floor," T introduced him with a wink.
"Um, hi Ross," he smiled to the heavily tattooed white man who looked him
up and down appraisingly.
"He the one who got the front stirred up last week?" Ross asked T without
interrupting his visual inspection. Xander shifted uncomfortably under
the gaze.
"Yep, one and the same."
"Well try not to drop so much of my food," Ross commented as he turned his
back to them in order to work with something in the sink. T simply
laughed.
"From Ross that's the seal of approval," T whispered as he picked up a tray
of chip-bowls and handed it to Xander. "He's a little like your Luther,
except *he* isn't an asshole," T confided. Xander had to laugh at the
thought of the tall, well-muscled scarred Luther being anything like the
short, heavy, tattooed Ross. Then he felt himself pushed back out onto
the floor of Safari, the food islands lit by colored lights and Charlie slinking
down the raised runway as hands reached through the bars and caressed legs
and thighs and even occasionally grope under the loin-cloth when the customer's
arms were long enough. He stood mesmerized by the sight of Charlie's
dance for a moment until he felt a warm hand on his arm.
"Oh, I have missed you," a man with salt and pepper hair commented as he
moved in. He could feel his face growing warm as he recognized the
man who had fed him his own semen less than a week earlier. "Such a
lovely boy," the man commented as his hand moved down to the waist and began
to pull the shirt out from jeans.
"I, ah, have to get this food out," Xander stuttered. The man laughed
and then slid a bill down the front of Xander's jeans before quickly sliding
a hand across his bare stomach under the shirt.
"Just a welcome back," the man assured him before laughing again and then
returning to a small group standing a few feet away. Xander
slipped away toward one of the far food islands.
"Yell if you need me," a deep voice behind him offered, and he nearly dropped
his tray in surprise. He turned to see the black-vested Carlos standing
there.
"Carlos, hey," he said as he braced the tray on one hip so he could straighten
up the bowls.
"Some things never change," Carlos laughed as he walked a few feet away and
turned to watch. Yep, some things never changed; here he was straight
off killing one master vampire and bedding another and people still assumed
he couldn't take care of himself. He sighed. Oh well, at least
they cared enough to watch out for him even if it was annoying.
The next two hours passed with a minimum of trouble. Xander ran food,
customers felt Xander up, Xander watched for Spike. Yep, he didn't
figure the trouble would start until Spike actually showed up, which he had
expected much earlier. Part of him wanted to retreat to the back room
and wait for Spike in privacy, but another part of him reveled in the fact
that he was acting without permission. Yeah, where were all the psychiatrists
when you needed them?
Xander had been caught by a man sitting at a table when he felt the tingle
down his backbone. Spike? Vampire? He turned his head,
trying to spot the source of the tingle, but he had limited mobility at the
time. In trying to get to a far food station, he had walked near a
booth, and hand had slipped between his legs, and the occupant of the booth
now sat hugging one leg as he smiled up. Xander sighed tried again
to pull free, but the man had a good hold. He might be able to pull
the man out of his seat, but he couldn't pull loose without his hands, which
just now balanced a tray half-full of the dreaded potato skins.
"I do have work to do," he pointed out reasonably, but the man held on and
exchanged a knowing look with his friend at the table.
"You shoulda seen him lasht week," the man slightly slurred to his friend.
"Hottest thing ever."
"Please, let go,” Xander asked as he started looking around; he caught Carlos'
eye and the bouncer started moving in. The drunk must have seen the
cavalry arriving because his second hand held up a bill, proving that he
was a tipping customer in addition to being a grabby jerk. The second
hand slipped up under the loose front hem of Xander's shirt and then he felt
fingers pushing down into his jeans. The drunk smiled and shifted his
arm up so that it circled the thigh just below Xander's crotch. Xander
had to shift his legs apart to keep his balance, feeling annoyed with the
liberties the man was talking. The other customers had settled for
quick grabs at the ass, caresses of the silk shirt, and darting thrusts into
the jeans with money in hand. Xander had enjoyed the attention even
if Xander Jr. had been less than enthused. But now, he just waited
until the hand withdrew from his jeans and then he tried to step back again.
The arm around his leg simply tightened as the drunk leered up salaciously.
"Oi, hands off," came a familiar voice. Xander jumped, his leg still
trapped, and managed to lose two bowls off the edge of the tray before righting
it. The bowls landed with a thunk on the floor as grease and
potato bit splattered. He groaned and turned his head to see Spike
directly behind him, a cool arm quickly sliding his waist
"Spike," he whispered, unsure whether he was happy for the rescue or terrified
of the vampire finding him with a drunk attached to his pants. He really
didn't want to get every grabby man in the place killed, and he suddenly
realized that Spike was quite capable of doing just that. His heart
sped up as the panic set in.
"Okay, time to let the server get back to work," Carlos' voice interrupted.
"Back off, git," Spike snarled, and the arm around his leg disappeared as
the drunk and his friend slipped away, not wanting to get in the middle.
Xander put the tray down on the table so that his hands would be free--not
that he could do much if Spike started anything.
"Let go or I'll toss you out on your ass."
"Like to see ya try, mate."
"Spike, don't. He's just trying to look out for me," Xander interrupted
when he felt the body behind him tense and start to bounce slightly.
Oh yeah, bouncy Spike equals trouble. "Carlos, head bouncer on Xander-protectage
duty, meet Spike." He felt Spike step forward, and then he found himself
suddenly thrust behind Spike, watching while Carlos and Spike tried to glare
each other down.
"You the one who gave Xander a hard time last week?" Carlos asked with a
growl in his voice that came impressively near to the real thing.
"You the git who walked off and left him alone?" Xander could feel
the hostility getting quickly out of hand.
"Spike, he's the one who got me out of the crowd after you left. Carlos,
Spike's the one who protected me from the guy who killed Frederick."
As he watched the two consider each other, he just wished Cordelia would
walk in. That woman managed to make Spike and Angel play nice, or at
least fairly nice, and he really needed to discover her secret weapon.
"Didn't seem to be protectin' Xander from that wanker," Spike snarled.
"I was coming to stop the guy when I spotted you. Last time you were
more trouble than a friendly drunk," Carlos snapped back. The
two stood, unmoving.
"Reckon I was," Spike suddenly turned amiable, and he held out a hand.
After a brief look of confusion that Xander could identify with, Carlos took
the hand.
"Nice to meet you," Carlos managed even while looking to him with a confused
expression. Xander shrugged; he couldn't explain the vampire's mood
swings any more than Carlos.
"Right, need to talk to my pet, here," Spike announced, turning a back to
Carlos. He shrugged again as Carlos looked to him before moving off a distance
to watch. He simply he knelt down to recover the lost food.
"Well this seems familiar," Spike commented as he crouched down to bounce
in front of him, one arm leaning on the table. Xander bent his head,
his heart still pounding with the fear that Spike would be angry, angry with
him and with the various men who had touched him. Stupid. How
could have risked so many lives just to prove something to himself.
And T, he suddenly realized. He didn't want T to think of him as some
weak thing that did whatever his boyfriend told him. Boyfriend?
No, master really was closer to the truth. "Pet?"
"Yeah?" he answered without lifting his head. He pulled the last potato
skin into the bowl and knelt there, cleaning his hands on his towel.
"You alright, pet?" He risked a quick look up and saw the head cocked
to one side and the eyebrows lowered in clear confusion.
"Fine."
"Right," Spike snarked sarcastically. "Anytime you can give one word
answers, ya aren't fine. Can't read minds, luv, so you better start
talkin'."
"Don't get mad at them," he asked in a small voice, continuing to rub his
hands on the towel even though he had already gotten them clean.
"Who’s that, luv? The wanker who grabbed at ya?"
"Yeah," he whispered.
"You thought I'd eat them for doing that, didn't ya?" The bouncing
stopped, and he felt Spike's hand close around his arm. "That's it,
innit?"
"Well, yeah," he admitted, looking up at Spike in the low light of the club.
"If he'd hurt ya, he'd have died a slow and painful death," Spike admitted.
"But he didn’t."
"I thought, with the touching…" Xander felt his heart begin to truly race
as his demon squirmed, wanting to throw itself at master's feet and beg forgiveness.
Spike looked at him for a long time, a strangely neutral expression on his
face. Spike finally pulled him close and whispered in his ear.
"If you want to work here, it’s all right with me. Like people seein'
what they can't have. Like showin' you off and then watchin' people
lust after ya, knowin' that you only lust after me." Spike added a lick from
the collar to the ear, and he felt himself shiver as Xander Jr. suddenly
came to life. "Cassidy showed ya off, making ya go starkers so they'd
all see what they couldn't have." A second lick and he closed his eyes
and shifted so that he could press himself into Spike's firm body.
Now Spike pulled him up so that they stood next to the booth. Spike
positioned him so that he faced the club with Spike standing behind him.
He watched out of half-closed eyes with his head tilted so that Spike could
continue exploring his neck. The vampire obliged by sliding a hand
under his shirt and closing his lips over the place where neck and shoulder
met; he felt the suction and squirmed under the attention, barely registering
the customers who had turned to watch. "But don't ya think we should
take care of the vamp feedin' on the customers before we continue this?"
Xander continued to writhe against the hard body behind him until the words
finally penetrated the lust.
"Vamp?" he squeaked. Spike laughed.
3
Demon's Deal
"Yeah, business first, then?
Need to drive this wanker off since I don't really want vamps hangin' out
round ya." Spike commented as he continued nipping at Xander's neck.
Xander scanned the crowd; he didn't see anyone suspicious, but if Spike said
a vamp was out there feeding on the crowd, he didn't doubt it for a minute.
"I've gotta…" he gasped as Spike nipped particularly hard at his shoulder.
Xander Jr. gave a simultaneous twitch of his own. "I've gotta tell
T," he finally gasped out.
"Right, I'll wait here then." Spike let go so suddenly that he found himself
struggling to keep his balance. He turned to glare. "What?" Spike
asked innocently although the corner of the mouth twitched twice.
"Evil vampire," he hissed as he tried to rearrange his jeans so he could
walk. Now Spike openly smirked. He gathered up his food and made
for the bar as fast as he could with Xander Jr. pressing against the zipper.
He felt hands reaching for him, but he side-stepped and spun out of reach
all the way to the bar where T worked one end. When he dropped the
tray on the bar and leaned over to get T's attention, he felt hands slip
inside his shirt. He looked back to see an older man in a plaid shirt
smiling, but in the background he could also see Spike leaning against a
wall, watching. He had an evil thought, and his demon whole-heartedly
approved of the game.
He slowly wiggled his butt as the hand under the shirt slid down to the jeans.
Spike's eyebrow shot up, but otherwise he remained motionless. Xander
could see that T would still be another minute, so he deliberately smiled
at Mr. Plaid and pushed back. The hand now slid all the way in the
jeans, and he could feel fingers exploring down the crack. He kept
his eyes on Spike, and now he could see the lights of the club reflecting
softly in eyes that probably had gold in them now. As fingers reached
the puckered goal, he shivered and then reached up to touch Mr. Plaid's cheek.
"No more," he whispered, and he could see the disappointment as the man sadly
smiled his acceptance. The hand withdrew for a moment and then returned
with the dry feel of paper against skin as the man slid a tip in equally
far. Xander had a sudden image of getting a paper cut and having to
explain it to the doctor, and he had to stifle a laugh just as T came up.
"You leaving us then?" T asked with a nod toward Spike.
"Actually, you have a vamp hunting in here." T's eyes suddenly narrowed
as he inspected the crowd. "Spike and I are going to go see if we can't
get it out and stake it," he quickly added. When T shot him a disapproving
look, he amended it. "Fine, Spike will get it outside and stake it
while I watch from a safe distance."
"Darling, you watch your back."
"Hard to do that what with the eyes being in the front an all," he quipped,
but the worried expression in T's face made him stop. "I'll watch Spike's
back, and I trust Spike to watch mine."
"More than you trust Gunn?" T asked sadly. He had to really think
about that. A week ago he would have followed Gunn to hell, but how
would Gunn take the knowledge that he wasn't entirely human? How would
Gunn react to his coming out of the closet. Hell, how would Gunn take him
sleeping with *any* vampire, male or female?
"Spike can protect me better than Gunn can," he finally told T before returning
to Spike's side. The trip back across the club proved a little easier
without his hands full, but he still had to sidestep several interested customers.
"Not nice, pet." Spike said when he arrived. For a minute he thought
Spike was talking about his comment regarding Gunn, but then he remembered
Mr. Plaid. Spike took his arm and started walking him toward the far
end of the dance floor.
"Yeah, well it's your fault for getting everyone worked up with a floor show
before sending me through the crowd alone."
"Nearly came over, threw you on the bar, and claimed you right and proper
for everyone to see." Xander Jr. jerked to life so suddenly and painfully
in the confines of the jeans that he physically tripped, but Spike simply
reached out and pulled him close before he could hit anything. "Like
that thought, do ya?" Xander wished he could come back with some witty
comment, but even his babble abandoned him in the face of the mental image
Spike had created. Spike laughed.
"There's the wanker now," Spike said as he nodded toward a tall thin black
man with actual red hair who had his limbs tangled around a hunky line-backer
type. He watched at the vamp laughed at something and then kissed the
man on the lips before nuzzling into the man's neck. He would have
cried out a warning right there, except Spike held him back. Caught between
wanting to save the man and following Spike, he physically swayed, and Spike's
arm tightened around his waist.
"Ya don't want to interrupt him right now, luv. Dinner might not survive
it." Before he could ask what Spike meant, the vampire raised his head,
still showing human features and planted another kiss on the man's lips.
The man had a dazed, happy expression, and the vamp backed him toward a wall,
where he left him leaning. With a glance in their direction, the vamp
started for the door. He felt himself pushed along as Spike followed.
Once out in the night, he couldn't see the vamp anywhere, but Spike didn't
hesitate as he moved north up the street and toward a closed and boarded
up gas station.
"He's there," Spike commented as they came to a halt outside the station.
They stood there for several minutes.
"Aren't we going in, I mean, it's a little hard to stake a vamp if you don’t
actually go in."
"Who said anythin' about staking?" Spike turned to him with a confused
expression-the eyebrows drawn down so that the wrinkled form an upside-down
V on his forehead.
"You said we were going to get rid of him, that's how you get rid of a vampire."
Spike simply snorted at that, but then the conversation stopped when a tall,
red-haired vampire stepped out from behind the station. Spike grew
suddenly still, and he felt himself for the second time thrust behind his
lover. The vampire's hair curled in tight coils and he walked with
a gangly stride that suggested youth.
"Wha' ya want den?" called the other vamp, and he could see each of the vampires
subtly shifting their bodies. Spike took a step forward and raised
his head as if he was sniffing the air. The other vamp shifted to the
side, closer to the gas station, and showed his demon features.
"Want ya' away from what's mine," Spike finally announced.
"He be yers?" the vamp asked, and Xander found himself trying not to laugh
at the competing accents.
"Yeah, mate, he is."
"Yer a master, can smell ya. Knew I's run into one'a ya's sometime
or ruther. If ya want, I's fittin' to move on. 'Bout time to
anyways."
"Just don't want ya near my pet. You got control enough to feed without
killin', so I don't mind ya in the area or even in the club, but ya smell
my pet, and you'd better clear out, mate. Got it?" The other
vamp suddenly lost his demon features and dropped his head.
"Raht, Ah won’t go neah him,” the vampire agreed. Spike stood there
glaring for a few seconds and before turning and sweeping Xander away down
the street.
"That's it?" he asked, indignant. "You want to go vamp hunting and
we end up nicely asking the vamp not to kill anyone. At least I think
that's what you asked. I swear, I thought I had trouble with English
what with the constant D's and all, but I'm not entirely sure you guys know
how to actually speak English."
"Pet…"
"Don't 'Pet' me," he groaned softly when he realized his mistake, “I mean,
don't go saying 'Pet' at me, AND don't actually pet me right now; I'm mad.
That vamp was hunting in T's club, and you didn't do anything." He
felt himself pulled toward a parked car. Spike jumped up on the hood
and pulled him into an embrace between his legs before covering his mouth
with a cool hand.
"Pet, do ya want T and the customers in there safe?" Spike asked seriously
before removing the hand.
"Of course I do."
"And do ya trust me to keep you happy and safe?" Spike asked as strong arms
settled in at the small of his back, pulling him in closer.
"Well, yeah." He had to admit that he actually did trust Spike, he
just sometimes wondered how much of that trust came from the demon in his
head and how much came from his own thoughts, not that he had always picked
the best people to love or trust.
"So do ya trust me to keep your soddin' club safe?"
"Okay, we have a problem there, because that club is just a buffet for you,
and you can't convince me of anything else, blondie," he pointed out.
"Bloody right, they could all get eaten tomorrow and I wouldn't care, but
you would, so I'll keep those gits alive just to avoid the emotional scene
you'd throw if ya found them all dead."
"You'd actually protect them? They're like walking meals on wheels
to you, without the wheels part, but still. Why would you do that?"
Spike simply snorted.
"Not sayin' more emotionally supportive crap tonight, don't want my reputation
to be completely buggered, but that vamp is old, older than most and old
enough to have control. If he's huntin' in there, it'll keep most of
the others out."
"He's a master?"
"Bleedin' hell no, a master would’ve fought for his territory. He's
old enough to be, has to be at least fifty, but without someone to teach
him, he'll just be a really old minion." Spike fell silent for a long
time. "Surprised he can feed without killin', that's usually a master's
trick."
"So with him draining a few pints here and there…"
"It takes the club off the huntin' list for other vamps," Spike finished.
"My hero," he purred agreeably as he pushed into the embrace, pushing his
own hip into Spike's groin.
"Bloody hell, don't go spreadin' that bollocks around or I really won't have
a reputation. And if you keep up with the teasin', you're goin' to
get tied to the bed and ravaged." Xander Jr. had his oh-so-predictable
response to that threat, and Spike laughed, his eyes ringed in gold.
"Oh, yeah. You're mine."
"Yep," he agreed amiably. Times like this when Spike acted like one
of the good guys, it was just so easy to say.
"Well, let's grab some dinner before we have to go and see Peaches," Spike
announced and the mood evaporated.
"Dinner as in Italian?" he asked hopefully, even though he knew the answer.
"Wouldn't mind a Luigi or a Leonardo," Spike agreed and Xander groaned.
"I was thinking pizza," he argued as Spike jumped off the car and started
back toward the club.
"Let's get your kit and drop it off first, right?" It didn't escape
him that Spike totally avoided the conversation, but he couldn't ask a lion
to go vegetarian, and he couldn't ask a vampire to give up blood. He
did wonder why Spike so adamantly refused to do what the other vamp did and
drink just a little.
Xander followed and made the right noises at Ross, the only person he ran
into as he dashed through the kitchen to grab his bags before meeting Spike
out back with the motorcycle. Once the bags were stowed, Spike turned
the bike toward a part of town full of junkies and whores, and within minutes
of parking the bike, he had pinpointed a small man who robbed two different
street-people while they watched.
"He bad enough for ya?" Spike asked with a nod.
"You can't think I'm going to give you permission to kill someone.
Oh, no. So not going there, Spike."
"That’s all right pet. I know he's bad enough. Can smell the
blood on him from here, even with all the soap he used to wash it off.
Probably forgot to clean his boots, most of 'em miss them."
"You mean he killed someone?" Xander turned in horror to watch the young
man laugh as he grabbed a bottle of alcohol from some older man and then
chased the older man down the street.
"Evil don't just come with the demon package, luv," Spike announced before
he started walking toward the mugger. Xander followed at some distance,
trying to ignore it when Spike maneuvered his prey into an alley and slid
his dagger into the man's neck before drinking deeply and making
little happy sucking noises. Ew. When had he started thinking
of sucking noises as happy? He severely chastised his demon before
returning to ignoring the whole scene.
"Right then, suppose it's time to face Peaches, pet." Xander watched
as Spike calmly licked the blood off the knife as they walked down the street.
"Aren't you afraid of someone seeing that and assuming you're some sort of
serial killer?" he asked as he glanced nervously around at the pedestrians.
"First rule of the night: people ignore anythin' they can't explain
away. A hundred years ago, I'd of worried. Now, people see what
they want. Long as they don't have hard proof, they make up all sorts
of excuses." Spike finished the cleaning job and replaced the knife,
tucking it into a duster pocket. "S'why I use a knife, don't pay to
leave proof laying around with teeth marks in them."
"Is that why you won't leave people alive…because they'd see proof?"
"Don't go there, pet." Spike reached the motorcycle and quickly mounted.
"Don't go where, Spike? Don't talk about why you kill?" He stood
on the sidewalk, determined to have the conversation. If the minion
in the club could feed without killing, he didn't understand why Spike couldn't
as well.
"Xander," Spike's voice drew the name out into a clear warning.
"Spike," he returned in the same tone of voice.
"Enough," Spike bellowed in a deep, loud tone, and Xander felt his knees
go out from under him. A couple on the street turned to look in shock
as he neatly collapsed to the ground in a heap. The echoes of Spike's
cry chased each other through his brain, and he struggled to clear his ears
enough to even hear the distant voices. The demon struggled against
his control, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he silently hummed Rubber Duckie.
Thank god for his arsenal of Sesame Street songs because he had worked through
four or five before he trusted himself to open his eyes.
"Spike?" he called softly before he realized that he lay in the vampire's
lap with a cool hand smoothing the hair away from his face.
"You’re all right, pet. Be just fine in a bit. Just had a spill,
that's all." He could hear the slight panic in Spike's voice, and he
looked around for what might have caused the fear, but he only saw the faces
of curious bystanders who whispered to each other and watched with meaningful
expressions.
"Spike?" he called again, confused.
"Are you sure you don’t want an ambulance?" a man with a cell phone asked,
and Xander waited for the guy to get told off, but it didn’t happen.
"Thanks mate, but he'll be fine. Goin' to hospital won't help epilepsy."
He reached out and took one of Spike's hands so that the vampire looked down
at him.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Just a spell, that's all. We'll get you back on your feet and you'll
be right as rain." Xander felt himself pulled up as Spike stood so
that he now leaned back against Spike. He tentatively put some weight
on his legs and felt a wave of relief when his legs held without buckling.
"Let's go sit," Spike said, and he felt himself guided toward a nearby bench.
Now that the invalid had gotten scraped off the sidewalk, the crowd slowly
dispersed and they were left on the bench without any observers.
"What the hell was that, Spike?"
"Bloody hell, I don't know. That shouldn't have happened." Spike watched
him silently for several seconds. "Tell me exactly what it felt like
from your side."
"You yelled," he began, and he could see Spike flinch at the words.
"I felt this moment of pure panic so strong that my knees just sort of stopped
working and I started going down. I wanted to get back up, but I could
feel the demon struggling, struggling harder than it has since the day I
took control back and killed Cassidy. Eventually the demon stopped
struggling, and I that's when I opened my eyes.
"Bloody hell," Spike repeated.
"Why? What did it look like from out here?"
"You just soddin' collapsed without a sound."
"Oh god, maybe the demon has done some sort of damage to my brain.
Shit, I don't have so many spare brain cells that I can afford to have a
demon randomly frying them."
"Shhh. That's not it, pet."
"If ya have a theory, I'd love to hear it because I've left freaked out behind
days ago and I'm quickly approaching the land of blind panic."
"It shouldn't have happened, didn't mean to cause that."
"Whoa, what did you cause it and how do we make sure you never cause it again
because that was just plain unpleasant."
"Used sire's voice," Spike began softly, as though he were admitting some
great sin.
"I missed out on vampire anatomy and psychology in school, you know.
Kept trying to get the principal to add it as an elective, but they insisted
that I should take physics instead. Vampire anatomy would have been
more useful." When Spike only looked at him with a guilty expression,
he abandoned jokes for the direct route. "I have no idea what that
means, Spike."
"Sire's voice keeps fledges in line. When they hear it, they soddin'
well stop whatever nonsense they're doin' and follow their sire's commands."
"And your sire's voice dropped me to the ground? Can I vote for you
never using that again? Shit, that's just totally not fair."
Xander leaned back against the building feeling the cool bricks through the
thin shirt material. He had never felt so entirely helpless; Spike
could control him with a single word, leave him twitching on the ground with
the demon raging in his mind. Shit. Why hadn't he staked Spike
when he had the chance? Oh yeah, he'd never had a chance. And
he'd fallen for the bastard. Life would be much simpler if he hadn't
fallen for the bastard, but he'd fallen so hard that he didn't think he could
get back up even if he wanted to.
"But it shouldn't have worked," Spike objected. "Wouldn't have used
it on you on purpose."
"Um, if that's not working, I really don't want to know what sire's voice
does when it does work. I felt like a kitten grabbed by the back of
the neck. Not that I'm kittenish because I'm a man, so I'm more like
a manly thing, a bear or a lion or something: a completely helpless bear
all curled up and quivering, but a bear nonetheless." He opened one
eye to glare at Spike, but the vampire simply watched the traffic.
"That's just it luv, that's exactly what happens to a fledge. But pets
don't have enough of the demon in them to react like that. Pets just
get uncomfortable. Occasionally I've seen pets lose control of their
bladder, but I've never seen one react like a fledge."
"You thought I might pee myself?" Xander opened both eyes and looked
over toward Spike in horror. "And ya know what? I'm starting to get
a real inferiority complex about this whole pet thing. If either you
or Angel point out one more way that I'm doing this pet thing wrong, someone
is not getting any more sex…unless it's Angel, him I'll just stake."
Spike laughed.
"I like the way you do things, so I'm not complainin'."
"Good, so can we go home?" Xander had regained control of all his limbs,
but he still felt shaken up by the revelation that someone had that much
power over him. Of course his demon was stupidly happy, damn thing
would be happy to lay on the floor under Spike's feet.
"Sorry, luv. Have to go see Peaches, don't we?"
"Um, no?" That earned another one of Spike's laughs.
"Well that's the condition he put on us hangin' around. This is his
turf, and I won't fight him over it. Means we either have to go make
nice with the pouf or get out of L.A."
"Shit, I thought when I took up with a vampire that I didn't have to deal
with the in-laws."
"Yeah, well wouldn't mind skipping town and leavin' the nancy-boy wonderin'
where we went."
"Um, so not okay with the leaving town part, Spike. At least not now."
"So, we see Peaches."
"No chance you could drop me off at home?" he asked hopefully as he pushed
himself up onto his feet.
"Bloody well wish I could, but the wanker wants to see that I haven't been
torturin' you. Has it in his mind he has to save every bleedin' soul
that crosses his path, even the ones that don't need him." Xander grumbled,
but he followed Spike to the bike and got on, shoving the helmet over his
head before leaning into the strong body in front of him.
When they stopped at a normal-looking office, Xander had to smile.
He expected some grand mansion with gargoyles or maybe an abandoned building
with heavy velvet curtains lined with dust. Instead they got a perfectly
normal little office with "Angel Investigation" painted on a sign at the
front.
"A vampire detective agency?" he asked skeptically.
"Yeah, Peaches does do his own thing," Spike agreed as the two of them went
into the office.
"Man, where the hell have you been hiding your ass?" demanded an angry voice
as soon as the door came open. He could feel Spike shifting into game
face behind him before he could even react. He watched as the speaker's
eyes snapped open and the man reached for a stake.
"Gunn, I can explain," he insisted as he stepped between his friend and his
vampire.
| Index | Next |
| Feed the Author |
| Home | Categories | New Stories | Non Spander |