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| 6: Comfort |
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It was the sound of bare
feet pacing, floorboards, rug, floorboards, rug that woke Spike. The low muttering should have done the trick
but Spike guessed that it had been a continual murmur for so long his sleeping
self had become used to it. “Xander?” “It’s okay, go to sleep,
go back to sleep, I’m…I’m…” Xander’s
voice cracked and the pacing took on a new urgency. “Go to sleep, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay…” “What’s happening?” “I don’t know. “C’mere.” “No.” “Xander…” “No. No.
I… No.” Spike leaned up and watch
the fraught man pace some more. Xander’s
arms came up and wound around his head, as if somehow he could protect himself,
block out the constant barrage. The
distress on the young man’s face screamed of how unsuccessful that approach
was. “Xander, c’mere, I’ll
help you.” “Don’t do that.” “No hidden agenda, Pet,
just want to…” “Makes me weak. Don’t make me weak, I can’t… Fucking hell, I can’t do this, I’m not good
enough, I can’t do this.” The voice broke apart
again and Spike could see how hard Xander was shaking. “Can’t do it alone, perhaps?”
Spike suggested, lowering his tone to sound inoffensive, appealing even. “Let me help you?” “Getting the job done?”
Xander asked with a bitter laugh that threatened to turn into a sob.
“Can’t do it, can’t focus, no focus…” “Xander…” “Fuck off, fuck off, fuck
off.” Pacing. “It’s not “Shh. Want to wake up Chrissie? That brat of hers?” “I don’t care. No, I do care. I do. If
it would stop, for a minute, one minute, if I could…I could…” The pacing had become
fast and erratic, bringing Xander close enough to Spike that, when he stumbled
over the edge of the rug and almost crashed to the floor, Spike was able to
grab his wrist and pull him onto the mattress, overcoming the automatic struggle
for freedom and tugging Xander close, forcing him still for as long as it took
him to notice that the voices had been silenced by the demon. The effort to escape
abruptly became the effort to be closer, Xander mindlessly seeking the peace
that Spike brought him, wanting rather than resenting the gentle, calming
strokes that ran over his neck and shoulders, down the twitching muscles of his
gradually unclenching back, needing the shushing and wordless noises of comfort
that took the place of the racket that had seemed quite determined to send him
insane. The result was
inevitable, Spike supposed; hot body squirming against him in the darkness,
reminiscent of so many moments – memories
– he’d attempted, sometimes pretended, to shun, and there didn’t seem so much
difference between squirming to be close and squirming to get away, not when a
vampire who is multiple times stronger has his arms around a human who is
really not going anywhere. The thin
cotton sheet and equally thin cotton boxers that separated them may as well
have not been there; Spike’s body responded to the stimulus and he was hard in
seconds: vampire hard, vampire fast. Spike didn’t care, he was
actually enjoying the contact, but he knew Xander would feel betrayed and
repulsed, certainly wouldn’t react favourably in any shape or form and… Fuck
me, yes! …the man was getting hard
in response, still pressing closer, hands wriggling out to grab and hold,
pushing past the sheet and onto cool, bare flesh that was kneaded and clawed
at. Too dark for Xander to
see who he was clinging to, the man was driven to distraction and very possibly
not in control of his actions; it was up to Spike to put a stop to this. No stopping then. The medium’s nonsensical
rambling stuttered to a halt, but the shuddering breaths continued as Spike
moved for the first time, rubbing his erection against Xander’s. “Steal you back from the
ghosts, shall I?” Spike crooned, nuzzling Xander’s cheek and grinning against
the skin as he waited for Xander to freak out at his mindless participation in
anything other than the quest for peace and comfort. Spike felt the change as
he dragged his cock over Xander’s, the good in him relishing being able to turn
the man’s anguish to pleasure, the wicked streak simply wallowing in the
eroticism of a fresh and unlikely fuck.
There were probably several hundred comments he wanted to make, from
teasing to downright pornographic, but Spike reluctantly kept quiet: there was
always the chance that this encounter might come to an abrupt end – and not of
the satisfactory variety – if he reminded Xander who was methodically working
their bodies together. Even so, Xander
leaned back, turning his face away, and for a split second Spike was enraged to
think it was over, but the rest of the still-trembling body stayed put, and
Spike ran a hand down to the human’s hip and tightened his grip, determined
that neither of them was going anywhere until this was done. But Xander was apparently
working to the same game plan. The
fingers that had been carving nail marks in Spike’s back made a hurried move to
cup the most convenient buttock and grasped far more clumsily and harshly than
Spike’s more controlled touch. The
vampire groaned at the show of urgency, delighting in the thought of bruises
being left on his body, however fleetingly: physical proof of being
desired. Undeniable proof should Xander
suffer a lapse in memory when this was over and start an unequal apportioning
of blame. Spike felt his features
change, the rarely seen demon coming to the fore and thankfully concealed by
the night; despite the presence of the soul, the urge to bite wasn’t easily
suppressed, but the inner struggle added its own piquancy. An absolute flurry of movement, relentless
pursuit of release, and Spike abandoned the habits of a century and just let
himself go, doubting that Xander would want more than this and therefore… Trained. I’m fucking trained. Fucking women. …not needing to make it last for hours. This was more than a half-decent fuck, it
was…liberation. With a hearty moan Spike
soared into his orgasm, aware of Xander joining him, the man stiffening and
gasping, yet astonishingly silent except for the rigidly suppressed creak that
very nearly escaped his throat. … Repercussions. Spike knew there had to be
repercussions. For a moment he even
considered the possibility of Xander coming to his senses and getting away from
the situation – the vampire – as fast as possible. Up, dressed, packed, into the car and on his
way home without listening to a word of Spike’s…apologies. Okay, he would apologise if Xander thought
he’d taken advantage but he’d be damned if he apologised for the rest because –
Spike smiled to himself quite genuinely – he had bruises. Xander shifted, and Spike
reluctantly removed his hand from the hip that fitted so nicely into it. Surprisingly, no running away, just a turn
and a fidget as Xander got comfortable, pushing himself back against Spike and
finally relaxing when he felt a strong arm encircle his waist. “Quiet,” Xander observed
flatly, sounding quite exhausted.
“Quiet.” “What happened? You said it wasn’t normal.” A quiet groan at the
thought before Xander forced himself to answer. “It was…everything I
usually have, but… More. Amplified.
It’s…it’s the mental equivalent of standing beside a jackhammer. Inside a ring of jackhammers.” “Another way for that
nasty to get at you, you think?” “I don’t know. Could just be me feeling out of control. Panicking ‘cause I don’t have the usual
people around me. If I was panicking
maybe it wasn’t as bad as…” “It was bad, I could see
that.” “Don’t make excuses for
me, I have to figure this out.” “In the morning.” “Yeah. In the morning.” Another subdued grumble
as Xander leaned up, Spike barely resisting the urge to grab him and bring him
back: surely he wouldn’t be daft enough to try spending the rest of the night
alone? Evidently not. The leaning up was about reaching over to
grab the blankets that Spike had discarded soon after getting into bed. Xander covered their bodies and tucked them
in before once more shuffling as close as possible to Spike. Spike returned to
stroking and fussing, whispering reassurances as Xander began to doze, the
caresses to the dark hair giving way to fingertips being drawn over brow, nose,
cheek, to the smooth, recently shaved jaw.
Lips. Spike tickled Xander’s
bottom lip and grinned when the tip of his tongue poked out to lick the
irritation away. A few more
acclimatising touches and Xander was more asleep than awake, ignoring the fingers,
even the one that gradually slid between his lips, scraping past teeth that
parted for the intrusion, in, out of the sleek, moist heat, slowly and
rhythmically. Spike closed his eyes and
simply…imagined. … More muttering. Spike woke to the, by now, familiar sound of
it, opening his eyes fractionally to see Xander pulling clothes onto a freshly
showered body. “I’ll do that,” Xander
was saying as the words became discernable.
“I will do that, I just need to let Spike know, and… … Again. … No,
I… Help him. … Ah,
okay. Thank you, Saul. … I
can find that. … No, that’s okay, I’m happy to.” “Happy to what?” Spike
asked suspiciously, making Xander jump. The human turned to him
and held up a quieting hand as he brought his conversation to a close. “You rest now. … I’ll
be there.” As Xander listened his gaze
travelled idly over Spike’s body, and the vampire went though the motions of a
leisurely stretch, kicking back most of the covers and making a display of it. “Okay.
Rest now. Rest now.” Seemingly impervious to
Spike’s attempts at garnering a little interest, Xander sat on the end of the
bed and started tugging on socks and boots. “Where are you going?” “I, um…” Xander glanced over at Spike and shocked him
with a friendly smile. “ “No.” “It won’t take long, the
pool…” “No. Not if I can’t go with you to keep you safe.” “I don’t need keeping
safe. This will just be a quick look
around, and… Anything feels wrong, or
the uber-nasty shows up I’ll be back fast, that’s a promise.” As Xander rose and headed
for the door, Spike was up too, barring the way before the vampire was seen to move. Now Xander refused to let his sight line drop
below Spike’s chin. “Don’t you ever feel the
cold?” “My job, we agreed, was
to keep you safe.” “And
my job, my…vocation,
isn’t about being safe, it’s about helping people, and I can’t do that if you
smother me.” “Don’t give me ideas,
that pillow is perfect for it.” Xander chuckled. “I’ll be careful. I may not be the person you expected when you
showed up, but I haven’t forgotten what Sunnydale taught me.” “There’s a killer out
there somewhere, and if he gets the merest inkling of what you’re up to,
knowing how to stake a vamp isn’t going to cut it.” “Can we be totally honest
here? You want me for your job because
I’m a convenience, I’m not fooling myself I’m anything more. If something happens to me before the big day
you can find another medium, however awkward some of the job description may
be. Something else I learned in
Sunnydale? I’m expendable. How about neither of us try to pretend any
different?” With a sincere smile,
Xander moved an unresisting Spike aside and left the room. Amazing how those words stung: one expendable
to another, Spike supposed. If they’d
been delivered in anything other than that reasonable tone they may have been
easier to brush off or argue against, but Xander knew exactly what he was
talking about. And, amazingly, he didn’t
seem to mind. It made Spike twice as determined
to get the man through this in one piece, and he rather liked that there were
aspects of Xander that brought out the best in him. Liked and
resented, naturally. To make up for his
admiration of Xander he did his best to find and steal the stereo, but he’d
apparently been outsmarted there. He
picked up the puzzle book from the floor and studied the page it fell open
at. He’d been expecting…he wasn’t sure
what – join the dots, he uncharitably
smirked – but this was complicated stuff, and he could see from the amount of
scribbled notes and calculations around the edges of the page that Xander
wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t find it easy, But Xander had persisted and was halfway
through the book, discounting the few unfinished puzzles that had been
scribbled into oblivion, evidently in frustration when Xander gave up on ever
finding the solution. Spike turned to
the front page. MENSA. Spike sighed and shook his head, pissed off
to discover yet another way in which he’d underestimated his companion, and
this was something – someone – he
should have remembered: the Xander Harris that accepted tackling the impossible
as a reasonable option. “‘To keep my dear Padawan
occupied’,” Spike sneeringly read aloud.
“‘With great affection, Obi-Doug.’” Spike was beginning to hate … Xander had returned after
a couple of hours, quite safely, and they’d found a note from Chrissie under a
fridge magnet telling them that she had changed to day shifts, they should help
themselves, and she’d see them later.
Spike rolled his eyes at the ridiculously trusting nature of the woman,
lecturing her in her absence while Xander made them sandwiches for lunch, deep
in thought over what he had and hadn’t discovered. Toby, Spike confirmed
after a moment’s listening for an extra heartbeat, was in the house, which left
Xander reluctant to talk about the circumstances surrounding Wayne’s death, not
wanting them to be interrupted and the boy’s brother to be alarmed or upset by
anything he overheard. “The front of the house
is in the shadow of the trees. I’ll move
the car into the shade and we can go sit in there and talk about it,” Xander
told Spike firmly when the vampire tried to extract some details. “Very unsuspicious. It’ll look like we’re staking the place out.” “No-one’s going to
notice, the road outside doesn’t really go anywhere, I doubt anyone much passes
by in the winter.” “Doesn’t really?” “It just goes up to a
picnic area and lake. We need to check
that out ‘cause someone could have got to the pool from there. I want to feel if there are any
emanations.” Xander noticed Spike’s
smile. “What?” “You. Emanations.”
Xander looked a question. “The
new edition Xander Harris takes some getting used to.” “We don’t have to talk
about any of this if it makes you uncomfortable.” “Not uncomfortable,
almost…excited. You talk emanations and
I get a bit of a tingle. Least…I think
that’s the emanations,” he said leadingly. The blush that swept over
Xander’s face confirmed that Spike had hit the intended target, and there was a
tense moment of expectation that was far more than almost exciting. But no
anger from Xander, despite the blush no coyness, apparently not even regret. “Spike, what
happened… Was that okay? I didn’t mean it to happen, I don’t know how
it did, and you didn’t say to stop, but I wouldn’t want to assume…” “It was okay,” Spike
assured, baffled by the fact that Xander obviously thought he had started it,
but quite willing to let that version stand.
“Really okay.” “I think I know why I was
so troubled last night,” Xander told him, ignoring the insinuation. “I have a routine that prepares me for a reading
or a meeting. I always give myself time,
if not to fully meditate, then to be quiet and focus properly, attune myself to
the energy around me. I came into this
not calm, not ready, completely stressed by everything that’s happened over the
last few days. So, my fault. Not the uber-nasty, my own shoddy
preparation.” “No more jackhammering
voices of a night then?” “I can’t promise
anything, that’s part of my problem.
Y’know…” “If you tell me one more
time to find someone else…” Spike pause,
stumped for a suitable threat.
“Actually, I don’t know what I’d do because you’re right what you said
earlier: you are convenient. That
severely cuts down my scope for intimidation.” Xander snickered. “I’m going to spend some
time alone this afternoon before Chrissie gets home, do what I should have done
yesterday before the reading. You can
spend the time figuring out tortures for me that won’t offend the soul or screw
with my efficiency.” “Or…” Spike began in a
sultry voice as he sidled a little closer.
“We could go to bed and carry on where we left off.” Xander looked mortified, and Spike sat back,
rubbing his hands gleefully. “No
objection from the soul, even to that agonised look on your face.” “Wait, wait, wait. Sexual innuendo as torture? After Anya – undisputed queen of verbal blunt
force trauma – you’re an amateur.” At Xander’s dismissive
snort, Spike quickly slid into the vacant chair beside him, arm around the
broad shoulders before Xander could get away.
The seductive voice returned, and it brought a set of fingertips with it
that trailed down Xander’s neck, barely touching but raising goosebumps
nevertheless. “Think you misunderstood,
Pet. Not just innuendo.” A single
fingertip rested on the pulse point.
“Now, tell me…” The accent
snapped to coarse, overemphasised cockney.
“She ever strap one on and give it to you?” Xander slapped a hand
over Spike’s mouth. “Fuck. Off.” “That a yes or a no?”
came the mumbled response. As the giggles started
Spike’s tongue squirmed wetly against Xander’s palm and he snatched his hand
back, ewwing and wiping it on Spike’s t-shirted chest. “Does my mom know about
you two?” came a disgusted voice from the doorway. “Us two?” Xander replied
blankly as Toby took the long way around the kitchen to the fridge, simply to
avoid passing closely by them. “Course she does,” Spike
smiled, catching on at once, rising and stalking the boy. “She thought while we were here we could
initiate you, introduce you to the joys of unrestrained arse banditry. We’re just waiting for her cheque to clear,
then we’ll toss a coin, and the loser will get to pop your painfully uptight
cherry.” “Don’t pay any attention
to him,” Xander chuckled as he watched Spike intimidate the hulking thing that
passed for a boy in these parts. “We’re
just… Damn, what are we, Spike? Friends would be an exaggeration.” “Kin. Care of Sunnydale.” Toby was now reversing
around the table, having become suddenly convinced that Xander was a safe bet
if he needed protection from the man who was pursuing him with slow but
frightening intensity, the last few minutes having taught him more about
watching what he said than years of reprimands from his mother ever had. Spike finally herded Toby to where he wanted
him, and the boy squeaked as he fell back into the chair Spike had recently
vacated. “Leave him alone, Spike.” Spike took a few more
intimidating steps, bowing and almost nose-to-nose with Toby before giving an
intimidatingly depraved grin. “Okay, Love, anything for you,” he told Xander
in a very sexy voice, then spun
quickly away. “Word of advice,” Xander
told Toby with faux gravity. “Never taunt the animals.” … Trudging through the cold
and dark, they checked out the picnic area that was on the other side of the
trees that bordered Chrissie’s house, then started to walk the shore of the
lake. “Picking up anything?”
Spike called to Xander who was twenty yards ahead of him. “Nothing so far, nothing
that matters,” Xander called back. “I
think we should turn around. Going
through to the pool would be a better idea.
Did you pick up the flashlight from the car? The path is hard enough to walk when the
sun’s up, moonlight won’t be enough. Not
for me, anyway.” “Yeah, I’ve…” Spike growled disapprovingly. “We’re going like this? All the way?” “We can get closer, you
know that, but this is good. And it can’t
be helped, not if I want to be receptive.
I can go by myself if…” “This’ll do.” Xander skirted around Spike,
maintaining the excessive distance, and headed for the overgrown pathway he’d
found earlier that day, the one that connected what should have been perfectly
safe land where the boys played, to this public ground. “Chrissie seemed a bit
better tonight,” Spike observed as he narrowed the gap a little. “Not so overwrought.” “It happens that way
sometimes. She’s found out that she hasn’t
lost her son entirely, and every contact makes her stronger. I barely told her anything new today, nothing
about his death, he just wanted to talk about his favourite toys, but that was
enough. It’s often the little details
that makes a person…makes a person…” “Xander?” “Uh… Stay there.” Spike watched as Xander
came to a halt and concentrated, increasingly fascinated by the twitching
fingers that beckoned the spirits closer. “Is it to do with “No, wait. Wait, Spike.”
Xander listened a while longer before literally bouncing on the spot in
satisfaction at a firm and deliberate connection. “Okay.
… Again? Edward?
No. Again? …
Ed…mund. Edmund. Edmund. …
Okay. Armit…Armitage, got
that. Edmund Armitage. … Yes,
I can… Who? … Oh,
I… Oh.”
Xander slowly rotated to face Spike, seeing the vampire’s shell-shocked
expression and wishing he’d listened to more of the message before speaking
aloud. “William Armitage?” he asked
apologetically, and Spike swallowed hard, nodded unsteadily when he finally
remembered how to. “You want to hear any
of this?” A more immediate reaction now
as Spike firmly shook his head. “Okay. I’ll get Saul and Jesse to help him move on.” “He’s here?” Spike’s voice was
disturbingly weak, and for a moment Xander considered lying but he knew Spike
would see straight though any attempt to convince him that his otherworldly
helpers had somehow acted in super-quick time to rid him of the contact. “He is.” “I’d love to see him,”
Spike said shakily. “See him, have him
here, real, get my hands around his fucking neck…” Xander twitched uncomfortably and Spike took
a few steps forward. “What? What did he say?” “He didn’t say. But… I
saw…” Xander refused to reveal
more but Spike waited a full minute before accepting that sentence was at an
end. “What did you see?” “You. Then. Through
his eyes. In life he wasn’t…” Xander fought down the sympathy, not wanting
Spike to misinterpret it as pity. “A
kind man.” Spike hated the idea of
Xander being one more person to be intimidated by his git of a father; he began
to march toward the medium, strong now, back in control. “Don’t look so worried,
I’m not about to take it out on you.” The spirits fled as the
demon approached, Edmund slow to disappear but gone by the time Spike reached
out and put his hands on Xander’s shoulders.
Squeezed. “It was his neck you wanted to get your hands
around, wasn’t it?” Spike laughed lightly and
shook his head in belated disbelief. “What a shock,” he stated
rather obviously, running his hands over Xander’s upper arms. “I must be about the last
person you’d want to know any of this. I
don’t have a choice, but I…” “I don’t mind you
knowing,” Spike said too brightly, a glaringly false show of not being
bothered. “What then? What did he show you?” “You don’t need me to
tell you.” “I do.” And here came the honesty, the pain. “I’ll always be wondering if you don’t. Every time you look at me I’ll be wondering
what you’re thinking.” “I look at you and think
Spike. This, here, you, Spike.” Spike’s hands dropped to
Xander’s; he entwined their fingers and brought the knot of digits up between
them. “Strong hands you
have. Always a worker’s hands.” “Yeah. I still do some carpentry. Raise a few extra dollars for the chapel.” “Strong. You’d—
Never lift them to a kid, would you?” Xander’s fingers
tightened around Spike’s. “No.” “Saw him trying to beat
the child out of me, didn’t you?” “Belt. He had a belt.” “Doubt he knew any
better. Just wanted to be rid of his
namby-pamby milksop of a son, wanted someone to be proud of, another barrister
in the family. Papa’s footsteps, and I
couldn’t follow. Fine, upstanding
gentleman he was, no-one would dream to question why his boy could barely walk
some days, brutality being the prerogative of the working classes, not… He just wanted rid of the weakness, and
thought if he hit William that bit harder, beat William, beat…me…” Spike finally looked directly at Xander, eyes
glittering wetly in the moonlight. “Why
does it still hurt?” “Because he betrayed
you.” “No.” “Yes. What he did was wrong, it was cruel, it was a
betrayal of you, and of everything a good father should be. You had the right to expect not to be hurt by
him.” “He really wouldn’t have
known any better.” “Don’t make excuses for
him.” “Am I?” “Kids do.” “I’m not a kid anymore.” “Yes, you are. You’re his kid.” “I’m a vampire.” “Okay, you’re his scary,
blood-sucking kid.” “You’re not scared of me,
are you?” Spike frowned, suddenly acutely aware that he was still clutching
Xander’s fingers. “I, um… A little.” “I don’t want that.” “It’s just the tiniest
bit of precautionary fear. I think it’s
healthy.” Spike looked down at
their hands; Xander’s gaze followed. “What did he want to
say?” “We didn’t get that far.” “He just wanted to show
you his technique with a buckle, did he?” Spike demanded with a humourless
laugh. “Spike… That may have been his way of showing me what
he had to apologise for. A lot of
spirits come through to acknowledge that what they did in life was wrong, they
come to say sorry.” “You said he wasn’t a
kind man.” “The man he was showing
me.” “But you don’t know.” Xander thought back,
trying to pin down the exact impression he’d received from Edmund. “I was shocked too,
but… I don’t remember hostility.” “I’ll be kicking myself
later for not taking the opportunity to tell him what I think of him.” “He knows.” “He does?” “I betcha.” The thought of that alone was quite
therapeutic; Spike’s hands relaxed and Xander was able to wriggle his fingers
loose, but made a split-second decision not to pull them free. “You okay to go to the pool?” Spike released Xander and dipped into his
pocket for the flashlight. “It may have
been your mom that told him to come and put things right.” “He shouldn’t be anywhere
near her. He should be in hell.” “It’s not as simple as
that.” “I don’t want to hear
that he’s been… What? Rehabilitated?”
Spike ground out the word in disgust, and Xander thought it was time to drop
the subject. He took the offered
flashlight and started toward the path.
“Xander?” “Yeah?” “You think she’ll come
back? My mum?” Xander stopped and
turned, an encouraging smile at the ready.
It faded at the sight of a master vampire’s tear-filled eyes. “I do. I can still feel the love she had for you,
Spike. William. It isn’t always easy for them to get through,
but if she finds the strength she’ll come back.” Spike sniffed, nodded,
waved Xander on. Glad for the distance and
the privacy that picking his way through the undergrowth allowed him, Xander
thought about what he’d heard, seen, felt, and his heart ached for the child
that Spike had been. His own parents had
been difficult to live with at times, but their constant arguments and
sometimes neglect of him were nothing compared to knowing your father held you
in enough contempt to want to eradicate the person you were, trying to mould
your nature with a sharp leather belt. He’d been left feeling
quite nauseas by the contact and its consequences, and it was with great relief
that he felt Wayne join him, excited by Xander’s presence and brimming with
happiness despite the tragic end to his mortal life. Ten minutes later the boy
zipped ahead to the pool and Xander was left in relative quiet; his mind made
up, Xander spoke to Saul and made an unprecedented request. Find William Armitage’s mother. … Nothing remotely sinister
during the walk through to the pool, words and images from Pausing beside the
driver’s door, Xander stared into the murky distance as he thought about what
next, startled out of his deliberations when Spike pressed up against his back,
hands running up and down his arms once again, but slowly now; face nuzzling
into windswept hair. “Um…Spike?” “You’re…comfort.” “I’m Xander,” he
grinned. “And you’ll really regret this
when you get over the emotions that have been raked up tonight.” “Why will I regret this?” “’Cause…I’m Xander,” was repeated with a laugh. “And we’re in public, and you’re…snuggling.” The explosion of denial
Xander was expecting never happened. “So? I like snuggling. Rarely get the chance.” “Yeah, I guess vampires
aren’t renowned for it. Bloodshed and
mutilation, yes, canoodling in picnic areas…not in the Watcher diaries.” “Mmm.” “You stopping now? Or do I call Giles and tell him to start a
new chapter?” “You mind then?” “It’s not that I mind,
I’m used to bereaved people acting out, but I think you’ll…” Spike was away and around to the passenger
side of the car so fast that Xander turned in a complete circle looking for him
before their eyes met over the car’s roof.
“You mad at me for saying that?” “No. Don’t want to be reminded is all.” “Okay. I won’t do it again.” Xander popped the car’s
locks, and they climbed inside. “Anywhere else you want
to go?” Spike asked. Xander glanced at the
dashboard clock. “Bar’s gonna be closed.” “I was thinking more his
school, or his friends’ houses.” “I think all the answers
are with Wayne. He’s the only one who
can tell us what we need to know.” “Is it likely? That he’ll tell us?” “Possibly more than
likely right now.” “Back to Chrissie’s
then? I’ll stand back and you can have
another crack at the ghost.” “Or we could go back to
Chrissie’s and grunt and groan outside Toby’s door,” Xander suggested with a
wicked grin. “Now you mention it… You surprised me. In fact…
I think I’m a bit disappointed.” “Disappointed by…?” “You. I expected you to be loud.” “You expected me to
be…” Mischievousness adroitly masked by
an expression of mild interest, Spike watched Xander’s consternation as the
penny dropped. “You expected? You…?
Since when have you been expecting?” “Since you made your
move. Don’t worry, I haven’t been concealing
a hankering for your arse since Sunnydale.” “I didn’t make a
move! And…and…we’re in a stranger’s
house, she’s in the next bedroom, her homophobic, us-hating son is across the
hall, of course I’m going to be quiet.
And can anyone tell me why I’m explaining myself?” “Well, yeah, there’s all
that, but when I considered…” “No, don’t consider,
don’t go there at all.” “Isn’t it a little late
to be squeamish?” “I don’t want to talk
about this. And I don’t want you considering anything.” “You started it.” “I did not! Yes! I
did! And I swear I don’t know how it
happened. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,
and I’d be eternally grateful if a bolt from the heavens would strike me down
right now.” “Waste of energy: a car’s
the best place to survive a lightning strike.” “I know. But I’m prepared to step outside if you keep
saying…” “That I couldn’t resist
you?” “Stuff like that.” “You were all…warm
and…wriggling, I couldn’t help getting—” “I was – I was…stressed
out, badly stressed out. I think…I tripped and fell onto the mattress
with you, I wasn’t making a move, I was…” “Joking aside, I do know
that. Made you all the more
appealing. If it’d been a move I’d’ve…” “Let me get this
straight. You were turned on because I
was suffering?” “I was turned on because
you were warm and wriggling.” “But you said…” “What I said was… It wasn’t me being conned, it was you being
honest. That matters.” “Yes. Yes, I was being honest, but I still don’t
know…” Xander took a deep breath. “I didn’t thank you. For helping me, letting me sleep, not— Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” “I promise you I won’t…” “Don’t tell me you won’t
do it again.” “You think I’d lie about
that?” “No, I like to live in
hope.” “You’re not serious?” “It was nice. Wasn’t it nice?” “It was… Oh, fuck, I can’t believe we’re having this
conversation, just because…because…” “Because I’d expected you
to be noisy. Maybe another time…” “No. No other time.” “There’s a challenge:
make a screamer of you.” “I am not—” Xander took another deep breath. And yet more.
“Conversation’s finished. We’ll
go to back to the house, you’ll leave me in peace for a while, and I’ll meditate,
and what happened last night won’t happen again.” “You don’t want to share
your emanations?” Spike teased. “I don’t want to give in
to the need to repeatedly punch you and then get very drunk.” “Any chance there’s demon
blood in you? Shag, fight, bottle, it’s
a classic.” “We didn’t…!” Xander lowered his voice. “Shag.
We. Did. Not.” “That’s right,” Spike
agreed. “Nothing to get worked up over.” “I’m not getting worked
up.” “It barely even counted
as sex, it was more about…relief.” “Yes.” “Frottage as stress
management.” Xander dropped his face
into his hands. “I wonder if I could
still whittle a stake.” “Do we need a bad joke
containing a stake metaphor here?” “We really, really don’t.” Seeing Xander having to
hide from him, Spike felt a little guilty; he used a single finger to prise the
nearest of Xander’s hands away from his face. “I’m only playing.” Both hands dropped into
Xander’s lap. “I should know that,
shouldn’t I? You’ve changed but you
haven’t changed.” “It’s not meant cruelly.” “I get that.” “You do?” “Sure, you’ve…” Xander chuckled wearily. “Changed.” As the Mustang pulled out
of the picnic area Spike turned in his seat to study Xander’s profile as he
drove. It was a rare way to view the man
and not be reminded of being too slow in a vineyard. By the end of Sunnydale his ensouled self
hadn’t minded Xander, and now… It astonished
him to realise quite how much he admired this version. “Xander… I didn’t like you being upset enough for it
to happen, but… It was nice.” No reaction for a moment, then Xander gave what might have been the slightest, highly ambiguous nod.
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