NOTHING IS FOREVER 6
by
flaming muse

 

 

 

It had been an unquestionably bad idea for Spike to go to Xander's apartment. Spike had been fairly certain of that fact when he had offered to help Xander's secretary with her problem, but the restaurant was slow in the middle of a rainy weekday afternoon, and the idea of wandering the streets of Boston in the daytime had been too appealing to ignore. Besides, despite his better judgment, he was curious.

So he had gone, and he had been sure that he would be able to get in and out in a matter of minutes. The papers would be signed, his mild curiosity about Xander's life would be assuaged, and he could go back to his job and his professional persona. It would be just a quick decent into madness.

It had been anything but; the madness was still upon him a week later, and he couldn’t quite seem to put his experience behind him.

Amazingly enough, he and Xander had had an almost pleasant conversation, and Spike had actually enjoyed the banter without the hidden barbs that had been so prevalent in the past. He had relaxed enough that he had nearly been comfortable… at least before he had heard Willow's voice on Xander's phone. It had been far too easy to let his guard down in the anonymous apartment well away from California, but hearing Willow had reminded him sharply of everything that Xander was still tied to, everything that Spike had firmly put behind him.

In a way, Spike was glad of the reminder, because it was a warning for him to be more on his guard before he had gone too far. As easy as Xander might be to talk to, there was no way that Spike could spend any time with him and not get involved with the Scoobies again. Having a casual beer was too much contact; they couldn't be more than business associates. He had to remember.

The problem was that he was remembering too much. He couldn't forget how nice it felt just to spend some time with a friend, drinking beer and taking cracks at the delivery guys. He couldn't forget how readily Xander had treated him as an equal. He couldn't forget how toned and tempting that slice of Xander's stomach had looked while he had wiped his face with his form-fitting shirt. And if Xander was actually attracted to men, then that enticing piece of golden skin wasn't necessarily off limits.

Except of course it was, because it was a part of Xander's body, which housed Xander's mind, which was attached to Xander's friends. The body was definitely appealing, the mind was at times amusing, but the friends were an absolute deal-breaker.

The shock of finding himself even somewhat at ease with someone was hard for Spike to overcome; he couldn’t recall when he was last that comfortable. He hadn’t felt threatened, he hadn’t felt pressured, he hadn’t felt out of control, and he also for once hadn’t felt lonely. It had been years since he hadn’t been lonely, probably since before Dru had gotten so sick. It was that feeling of companionship without obligation - as casual as it had been - that he was having trouble shaking off.

The thought of having a friend, as unlikely as friendship would be with a Scooby, was too tempting to be safe, and Spike ruthlessly sank himself into his job. There was always something to do at the restaurant, and he was usually able to find some demons causing trouble after Cold Comfort closed each night. Boston's demon community was old and generally quite peaceful, but he gleefully dusted vamps by moonlight in Harvard Yard and threw the corpses of the demons he killed on Boston Common into the Public Garden Lagoon. As he was trying to be a constructive member of the community, he made certain that he dumped the corpses well away from the Swan Boats.

Spike also kept up his campaign of avoidance; he even ordered his employees to alert him if Xander came in. On Friday night, when Anne called back to let him know that Xander and Cassie had arrived to have dinner, Spike closed himself in his office to avoid temptation. He had suffered years of torment with Angelus and Darla and had never given in, but he knew that his willpower wasn't great enough to stand up to kindness. It was best to stay away entirely.

Not hiding. Just keeping myself out of danger. Spike snorted at the thought. Don't remember the last time that danger came in the form of anything as weak as a twenty-something man with one eye, no magic, and only marginal fighting skills. He leaned back in his chair and smoothed his hands through his hair. This is a whole new sort of battle, mate. Trying to keep my sanity intact, not my skin.

Some hours after Xander had come in, Spike ventured out to the bar. He looked around and saw Xander's assistant sitting alone at her cleared table. She was pulling out her credit card and slipping it in the leather folder that held the check. Xander was nowhere to be seen.

"Has he gone?" Spike asked Anne.

"He got his coat and headed outside five minutes ago," she replied. "I was about to come back and tell you."

"Ta." He took a deep breath and released some of his tension as he exhaled.

"You know, boss, when you asked me to keep an eye out for him I expected it was because you wanted to see him, not to avoid him." Spike gave her a quelling look, but the reason that Anne was such a good assistant manager was that she was never daunted by anything or anyone, including him. She grinned and continued. "Chris said that you two knew each other. You seemed kind of friendly. Now you're hiding in your office whenever he's around. What gives?"

When Spike gave her his best glower, she just laughed.

"Chris thinks you owe the guy money. He says that he must've lost the eye in a fight and that he's really tough behind the nice-guy act.
I think that he's an old friend who reminds you of times that you want to forget... which would be like all of them, since you never talk about your past."

"And I think that you lot need to work more and talk less," Spike said.

"And I think that we're underpaid as it is and should walk out until we get a raise and some answers."

"You get paid better than at any other restaurant of this size in town."

"Doesn't mean I don't want a new car." Anne grinned.

"Is that the bill for forty-six?" Spike asked as Becca, the server for that section, swiped a credit card through the machine.

"Yep."

"I'll take it back to her," Spike said and reached over the counter for the folder and the slip.

"Thanks," Becca said. "Fifty-two's being a nightmare."

"Want me to stop by?" Anne asked.

"Nah. Jason's on it. They just want extra everything, including all of my time." Becca rolled her eyes and stepped out from behind the bar.

As Spike began to turn away, Anne laid a hand on his arm.

"So who was right? Me or Chris?" she asked.

"Both of you," Spike replied with a cocky smirk designed to disguise that he was actually telling a bit of the truth.

Cassie smiled as soon as she saw him walking toward her; they had met two or three times so far to plan the Hallowe'en event and had developed an instant camaraderie. Spike was a bit surprised that Xander had selected her, since she was at least in her forties, married, moderately plump, and comely but probably never pretty. She was definitely intelligent and efficient, but most young men would have chosen looks over aptitude; perhaps Xander really had lost his taste for women. Or maybe his remaining eye wasn't that good.

"The boss stuck you with the bill, eh?" Spike asked, placing the folder in front of her and sliding into the chair to her right.

"It was a business meeting, so it was a business expense," she said, signing the slip and tucking her copy and her card into her wallet. "I just got a corporate card, so he let me use it. Of course, he didn't tell me 'til afterwards that the company was paying, so I didn't order the lobster."

They both grinned.

"Next time," Spike said. "And don't forget dessert, too."

"And maybe an appetizer. I'd love to try the crab cakes."

"Next time you're here I'll send some over. On the house, unless the company's paying."

Cassie blushed and smiled.

"Thank you. You're too kind."

"What's the point of having a restaurant if I can't use my power to flirt with the ladies?" Spike asked.

"I can see why Cold Comfort is so popular, then. You must have women throwing themselves at you."

"If I do, I haven't caught any yet. Maybe I'm waiting for the right person." He gave her his most enticing smile, which got him a wide grin in return.

"Or maybe you need to pay more attention to your game. You always seem to be busy. Do you even have time for a relationship?"

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"You'd ask me that question when you've been out to dinner with your boss instead of spending Friday night with your husband? Or maybe there's something going on with you two..."

Cassie laughed.

"I won't even dignify that suggestion with a response," she said. "But, as you have reminded me, I should get home."

"Would you like us to call you a cab? It's getting late."

"No, thank you. I only live a couple of blocks away, and Xander has offered to walk me home. He's out making a quick call before we go."

Ice formed in the pit of Spike's stomach. Xander was still there.

With his mouth frozen in what he hoped was a friendly smile, Spike rose to his feet.

"I'll just let you -"

"Hey, Cassie, is this guy bothering you?" Xander said jovially from behind Spike's shoulder.

"He was just offering to get me a cab. Would that be easier for you?" Cassie asked.

"Nope. You're on my way home."

"Great. Let me just powder my nose, as it were, and I'll be ready to go." Cassie smiled at them both and walked toward the rear of the restaurant.

"How's it going?" Xander asked as Spike turned to face him.

Spike shrugged. "Business is doing well."

"I meant with you," Xander said more seriously. His dark hair was rumpled and the sleeves of his blue dress shirt were rolled up his forearms, making him look every inch like the young businessman he was. If he also looked damned gorgeous, Spike made sure not to notice.

"I'm fine."

"You didn't seem fine when you ran out of my apartment the other week."

"Bollocks! I didn't run, I..." Spike collected himself and continued more calmly. "I had what I had come for; I simply left you to your phone call. It's called being polite. You might try it."

"You knew it was Willow on the phone."

"So? Did you think to put me on and scare her half to death?"

"I'm sure she'd be thrilled to hear from you," said Xander.

The thought sent chills down Spike's spine.

"You gave me your word. If you're going to go back on it, you'd best tell me now," Spike said with a hint of a growl.

Xander paled slightly and shook his head.

"No, no. But if you ever want I could -"

"No."

"But -"

"So you're going to walk Cassie home?" Spike asked blandly.

"Yeah. She lives about five blocks from me, and I didn't want her wandering around the city at night."

"But you reckon you're safe?"

"I haven't seen a single vampire besides you the entire time I've been in Boston," Xander said.

"Just 'cause you don't see them doesn't mean they're not there. Boston's an old city; there are plenty of demons here. A few of 'em probably came over on the Mayflower."

"Yeah, I've actually been meaning to ask you about -"

"Are you even carrying a stake?" Spike asked.

Xander shook his head, and Spike rolled his eyes.

"Did the preacher remove some of your brains when he got your eye?"

"This isn't Sunnydale, Spike."

"That doesn't mean there aren't beasties out there."

"You'd know," Xander said.

"Yes, I would. You're going to walk Cassie home and then go wandering around the streets in the middle of the night? If a demon doesn't get you, a mugger might. Are you completely daft?"

"Come on, Spike. We're in a safe part of town, and I'm not exactly a small guy."

"No, but you're well dressed, have an obvious handicap, and are wearing a cell phone on your belt that's probably worth more than a week's pay even in this part of the city."

Xander looked unconvinced.

"Only if you average in the incomes of all of the starving college students. Not that I don't appreciate the concern, but -"

"Concern, my ass. It's common sense. We'll call you both a cab," Spike said.

"I'm not taking a cab."

"You know I can force you into it."

"With the cab driver, Cassie, and the entire restaurant watching?" Xander crossed his arms over his chest and grinned.

"Fine. Then I'll walk you both home."

The smug grin disappeared.

"That's stupid. You don't have to -"

"If you won't take a taxi, I'll walk with you, and you can't bloody well stop me."

That seemed to be that. Xander wasn't happy about the situation, but he stopped arguing when Cassie returned.

"It's a nice night, and I could use a break," Spike said after he explained that he was joining them.

"I'm sure I could find something to break," Xander muttered under his breath. Spike ignored him.

As they walked Spike and Cassie carried on an innocuous conversation about the latest exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts while Xander sulked behind them, and then both men were silent as they walked from her apartment to Xander's. The streets were largely empty as they got further away from Harvard Square, and Spike kept alert to the noises in the shadows. There were a couple of suspicious smells and sounds, but no one bothered the two of them as they stalked through the streets.

"Do you need to walk me to my door or do you trust me to get up the stairs by myself?" Xander asked sourly when they reached the steps of the brick building that housed his apartment.

"I expect that even you can manage the..." Spike trailed off as he noticed that the front door was ajar. "Isn't that supposed to be locked?"

"One of my neighbors probably forgot to close it. It happens all the time."

"I'm going up with you."

"It was just one of my neighbors…"

"Then it'll only take two minutes. The more you complain the longer I'll be here."

Xander glared at Spike for a long moment and then led the way inside.

Get him inside safely and then leave, Spike reminded himself as he followed Xander through the door.

PART 7

Index

Fiction

Gallery

Links

Site Feedback

Story Feedback