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Part 100 |
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Late on Wednesday
night they boarded their flight to The hotel Xander
had booked was certainly not what Spike had expected; Xander had taken the
recommendation from Max, and they found themselves in the company of humans,
other vampires, an assortment of demons that Xander had come across during his
years of face-to-face encounters or butt-numbing research, and more still that
defied both description and his imagination.
Comments from Spike such as, ‘Not a problem, love, they only feed on
carrion,’ would once have made Xander heave or run, but his position as consort
to William the Bloody – and yes, he dropped that name exceedingly
quickly – gave him an unquestionable right to keep this company, and keep it
safely. He loved seeing
Spike in these surroundings. Not so much
enjoying the unlikely genteel sophistication of the hotel itself, but wallowing
in the fawning respect of staff and patrons alike. It certainly scuppered the idea that Spike
had lost his status as a master. Xander
had never fully understood the exalted position of the Scourge of Europe in
demonic history until now, and he contentedly basked in reflected glory as
Spike met admirers and answered questions about previous exploits, unabashedly
laying claim to the most gruesome urban legends that were presented for
verification, regardless of whether they had any basis in truth or not. Choosing this hotel
also ensured that Spike had fresh human blood available twenty-four/seven,
without a single, double, or triple eyebrow being raised at the prospect of a
demon not actively killing for food: apparently in this establishment they
encouraged demons to sightsee rather than carry out murderous rampages. Xander decided they’d spend the remainder of the night in
the hotel’s bar, playing pool and cards with the other guests, simply so he
could watch and listen to Spike’s interaction with the almost entirely amiable
fellow demons, happy to see him comfortable with the company, appreciating and
making the most of a long-lost camaraderie that involved references and in-jokes
that meant nothing to his human. What
did mean a lot to Xander, however, was the way he was accepted as Spike’s
consort; the fact he was a human incited some good-humoured curiosity and
badinage, but not the fact he was male. They went to bed just before dawn, shagged themselves into a
stupor, and slept the daylight away. … A noise elsewhere in the hotel and Xander woke abruptly,
thoroughly disorientated and distressed by the unfamiliarity of his
surroundings. He automatically reached
for Spike and found a much colder than usual version due to the lack of a
heated blanket, and in his confused state that sent him into an immediate if
illogical panic, frantically shaking Spike for the seconds it took for the
vampire to wake and protectively grab Xander to him even if he didn’t have a
clue as to what was going on. “What’s wrong?” he demanded urgently. “Wha…where…where are we?” Xander asked shakily, clinging to
his partner. “ “No. I don’t
know. This is…this…” “What is it?” Xander shrugged against Spike’s hold. “I don’t… Wrong. This is wrong, we shouldn’t be here, we should
be home. I want to go home, I want to be
safe.” “Think this is as safe as anywhere, Xan.” “We shouldn’t be here.” “Tell you what,” Spike suggested with an ease he didn’t
feel. “You lay here with me a while and
wake up properly and we’ll talk about it again.” Spike settled them back down and kept up the reassuring
touches and murmurings; Xander didn’t relax, tension making his body too rigid
to get comfortable. After thirty minutes
Spike conceded defeat and he and Xander were up and showering, Xander gradually
coming to his senses and sharing Spike’s bemusement over his reactions. “I don’t have a problem with this place,” Xander insisted as
Spike washed his hair for him, strong fingers sliding down and massaging away
any remaining tension in the muscles of Xander’s neck and shoulders. “I like it here.” “I know.” “So what was that all about?” “Bad dream maybe, you didn’t wake up fully…” “It doesn’t take me a half-hour to wake up, and… I was scared, Spike, I was really
scared. Awake scared not still asleep
scared.” “You think it could be because of all the demons here? You don’t feel safe.” “I’m married to a vampire, for God’s sake! A few demons are not going to freak me
out. Least not these demons. They’re more…Clemmy than…Draccy.” No answer and Xander glanced around. “What’s the smile for?” “What you said.” “They are Clemmy. And
I liked Clem.” “Married to a vampire.” A little of the tension returned and Xander’s head dropped
as he blushed. “Yeah, well…” “Don’t get all embarrassed, love. I don’t mind.
Opposite, in fact.” “With the claiming…” Xander began shyly, but had nowhere to
go beyond that. “Call it whatever you want.
Feel it however you want to feel it.
Whatever makes sense and makes you feel good.” “I do, I… You and me
for always, that’s what it is.” “Yes. That’s what it
is.” Always. For as long as you live, Spike thought
as he kissed soapy shoulders. Then I finally get my moment in the
sunshine. “But, like I said.
Not scared of the demons here. I
like this place,” Xander reiterated. A thought nagged at Spike, but he refused to suggest that
this reaction was influenced by something on the inside as opposed to the
outside of Xander. As far as possible,
his partner’s peculiarities and vulnerabilities were to be ignored rather than
exposed, in the hope that they would wither from lack of attention. “Then… I don’t know,”
Spike lied with a defeated sigh. “I won’t let it ruin our plans.” “Good.” Spike’s hands had massaged the length of
Xander’s back and were now kneading his buttocks. “Think a nice fuck would help take your mind
off it?” “Nice, nasty,
anywhere in between.” But as Spike touched
Xander more intimately he felt him start to tense up yet again. “You want to go
home?” “No. Yes.
No.” Adding a final, pointed,
“No,” for good measure. “We don’t have
time for this, we have to meet Ryan Kell soon.” “Who is?” “The guy who
designed the waterfall wall.” Despite not having
time for this, Xander responded with his usual magnanimity when the words… “Please, love, get
me off, eh?” …were whispered
hoarsely into his ear. In all fairness,
they were only a little late for
their appointment. … Waterfall wall and
dinner with the designer, discussing projects and studying the photos and
schematics of other work he’d brought along to share, then Xander and Spike
were free for the rest of the night. “I’ve made plans,”
Spike told Xander with a mile-wide grin. “They include me?” “I think you can
safely assume they include you.” Spike tugged Xander
into a dark corner and kissed him.
Hard. But for just long enough to
raise his interest before backing off and… “You sure you’re
okay?” “I’m much better now
we’re out, I’m sure I’m okay.” …pulling a piece of
paper from his pocket, handing it over and waiting while Xander scanned the
printed webpage. “It’s a bar.” “Yeah.” “Specialist?” Xander
asked warily. “Just a bar.” “Booth number six,”
was written at the top of the page.
“What about it?” “That’s where you’re
going. I’ll meet you soon.” Before Xander could
protest Spike was gone. Xander made a quick
check of the street map he’d bought, finding the bar’s location fairly easily
thanks to the directions on the printout, and he slowly made his way to his
destination, pausing to take a few photographs here and there, forcing himself
to be as unhurried as possible despite the nervous excitement building inside
him. Once inside the bar
he bought himself a beer and counted his way around to booth six; it was tucked
away, and Xander had to let his eyes adjust to the gloom before he noticed a
reserved sign on the empty table. Xander
checked with the bartender and yes, the reservation was for a Mr Harris. So Xander tipped and sat. Looked around. And it began to sink in. Spike had found somewhere as close as
possible to the setting Xander had described in a few dozen fantasies. From the dingy light and soft background
music to the privacy of the booth with its unimpeded view of the door. Xander’s heart leapt in his chest and he was
getting hard at the mere suggestion of what was about to occur. He sipped his beer,
pretended to read the tourist information about the city he’d picked up along
the way, unable to keep from glancing in the direction of the entrance every
few seconds. Through the window he
finally spotted an approaching flash of white-blond, and his heart progressed
from occasional leaping to full production number. Spike strolled in, as supremely confident as
Xander had ever known him, breathtakingly gorgeous in an outfit Xander had
never seen before: black suit, the bespoke jacket almost to his knees; plain
white shirt, studiedly casual with its open neck; deep red waistcoat. The DMs were gone in favour of sleek black
shoes, and Xander stared in fascination at that single remarkable, unremarkable
difference. The gaze travelled upwards,
greedily absorbing every inch of Spike’s appearance, and it was a shock when he
got to the face and found piercing blue eyes fixed on him. Xander held then broke the stare, flustered
and already believing in this fantasy a little too much. Back to unseeingly
scanning the leaflets, taking periodic glances in Spike’s direction, watching
him order a beer and drink it at the bar, fascinated by the occasional glint of
a garnet cufflink as Spike reached up and tilted the glass to his lips,
transfixed by the undulation of his throat as he swallowed, jealous of every
word he exchanged with the bartender, furious at the single burst of laughter
between them. Xander finished his beer and
went for a refill, deliberately not getting too close to Spike, but giving him
the casual nod of acknowledgment he’d direct to any other guy at the bar. Xander felt Spike’s scrutiny, hair to boots,
and Xander abruptly wondered how he looked, if he looked okay, if he was a
disappointment. Stupid, he knew, to be
so loved and desired yet unsure. But
this Spike… This was not his Spike. This was a new Spike that he wasn’t sure of
but already wanted like crazy, that he was already desperately hard for beneath
the cover of his coat. A new Spike he
needed to possess. He retook his seat
in the booth, unable to resist yet another look in Spike’s direction, only to
find the vampire watching him with a ravenous expression that turned to casual
interest once he knew he had Xander’s attention. Picking up his drink he sauntered over. Xander’s all-singing, all-dancing heart
almost stopped. “May I join you?” Even the voice, the
oh-so familiar voice felt like a shock. “Sure,” Xander
barely managed to say, gesturing with a suddenly graceless hand. The slim body
distractingly took up residence across from Xander, and he returned to his
non-reading. “New here?” Spike
asked, moving a little closer to see what Xander was studying so diligently. “Er…yeah, just
visiting for a couple of days.” “Business? Or pleasure?” Xander swallowed a
swallow they must have been able to hear back home. “Both.” “What do you do?”
Spike enquired with a provocative smirk.
“For business,” he clarified. “I’m a Contract’s
Manager for a building firm.” “Sounds…” “Boring,” Xander
finished for him with the first smile he’d felt able to muster. “How about you?” Spike ignored that
and slid a little closer, picking up one of the leaflets Xander had been
pretending to read. “That why you’re
interested in the City’s architecture?” “I was here to see
the waterfall wall…” “Yes, I know
it. I was there earlier myself. I’m sorry I missed you.” And Spike gave Xander such a heated look he
was struck dumb again. Spike smiled
amiably. “I could show you around. What else…”
Spike leant across to pick up the furthest away of the scattered
promotional flyers. His hand fell onto
Xander’s thigh, seemingly for support, but it remained where it was when Spike
sat back in his seat. “Space
Needle. Every Tom, Dick and Harry does
the Space Needle. Thought you might be
looking for something a little more…unique.” Xander put his hand
over Spike’s, reminding himself constantly that this was his lover, that it was
okay, only a fantasy, but he felt extraordinarily guilty. Spike saw the troubled expression and
squeezed Xander’s thigh; when their eyes met this time, it was unmistakeably
Xander’s Spike. “Okay?” he asked
quietly. Xander’s fingers
tightened around Spike’s, and he gave him a quick nod. Xander saw the new persona slide back into
place and let Spike reclaim his hand to reach for his beer, one fingertip
gliding through the condensation on the outside of his glass, leaving a
vertical row of X’s. “What were you
thinking of?” Xander asked awkwardly.
Spike looked at him questioningly.
“If not the Space Needle.” “I was thinking of
somewhere a little less crowded.” “How less?” “Somewhere for…two?” “Two. That’s…” The look Spike gave
Xander was back to downright sultry, and this time it travelled from his face,
down his torso, and came to rest in his groin.
Xander shifted and pulled his coat across his lap. Spike closed in again, slipping an arm along
the back of the booth seat until it was virtually around Xander’s
shoulders. His free hand began to tease
the coat away. “Don’t hide it,”
Spike encouraged, lips tickling the edge of Xander’s ear. “I enjoy being desired.” “Oh, God,” Xander
murmured shakily. “And I’m always
fascinated by the evidence of that desire.” Coat gone, Spike’s
fingers brushed over the bulge in Xander’s pants. The human jumped and squirmed, only to find
himself held in place by strong hands, and once he was still the vampire’s
attention returned to his erection. “Not here,” Xander
gasped. “No?” Spike asked
innocently, nail running along the teeth of Xander’s unopened zipper. “Do you have somewhere we can go?” Xander nodded hastily and Spike
chuckled. “I wasn’t in any rush but I
think you might be.” “You could
just…stop,” Xander suggested, sounding less than convincing. “Where would be the
fun in that?” Spike purred, and Xander groaned.
“This somewhere of yours…
Cab? Or close enough to walk?” “We can walk.” “Not going to
attempt an escape, are you?” Spike teased.
“Because you’re the only person I’ve seen that I want and I have no
intention of letting you get away.” “I… No.” With a satisfied
smile, Spike elegantly extracted himself from Xander and the booth, unconcerned
about the evidence of his own arousal, leaving Xander to shuffle out in an
ungainly, lap-disguising manoeuvre. Once
outside, Spike slipped his arm through Xander’s, enjoying the human’s
surprise. They walked in silence for a
few minutes, sharing the occasional glance. “You
look…different…in this light,” Xander said after a while. Spike looked up into
the moon’s glow and his skin gleamed with preternatural beauty. “Do I? Well, I suppose I am different.” “Should I be
worried?” Spike looked back to
Xander. As if he could ever hurt this
man. He wouldn’t even pretend to in a
fantasy. “No,” he promised
gently. “You’re perfectly safe.” Xander warmed to
that, and picked up speed. … The somewhat
perturbing know-you-but-don’t-know-you small talk had dried up by the time they
entered their hotel room, Xander feeling absurdly nervous, and Spike mentally
debating whether to carry on with a charade that didn’t appear to be bringing
Xander any amusement at all. Xander was
bloody good at these games, completely convincing, whether it was on the phone,
messenger, or in person; he’d enjoyed playing similarly reluctant characters
before now to humour Spike’s sexually predatory moods, but this time something felt
wrong. And there was Xander’s earlier
reaction to where they were to consider.
Door closed behind them, they turned to face one another. Shallow
maybe, but the blatant longing in Xander’s eyes as he
studied Spike swept aside the vampire’s concerns and temporarily postponed the
cancellation of activities. “This is it,” Xander
said redundantly. “Very nice,” Spike
replied, pointedly checking out the man rather than the room. “I… This isn’t something I usually do.” “I can tell.” “So. You want…anything? There’s room service for…” “You. I want you.
That’s all I’m here for.” Xander nervously
licked his lips; Spike wanted to lick Xander’s lips too. “Good.” Xander’s response was almost lost, his throat
too dry for volume. But Spike heard, was
encouraged, and he stepped in, bringing them nose-to-nose, his hands finding
their way inside Xander’s coat and around his waist, smoothing over his sides
and back. With those touches Xander was
virtually thrumming with excitement and anxiety and lust, but Spike could also
scent fear, and he needed no special abilities to sense Xander’s too real
unease. This was nothing like any
fantasy Xander had ever created for him. “Xander…” As if Xander had
known Spike was about to put an end to this, he touched his lips to Spike’s,
successfully redirecting his thoughts.
The vampire moaned with pleasure at this minor intimacy, deepening the
kiss as Xander’s hands slipped to cup the back of his head, fingers raking
through the short blond locks. Instantly
recognizable contact, and Spike felt Xander start to relax for a few seconds
before his body was stiffening in a wholly different way. “How d’you wanna do
this?” Xander asked between kisses, a simple question that made Spike fully
hard in a second. Spike smiled at this
progress, relieved that Xander was at last showing some enthusiasm. “What’s your
hurry?” Xander returned the smile and
tapped Spike on the chest. “Point
taken,” Spike preened, “I wouldn’t be able to resist me either.” Xander chuckled. “So…
What’s your preference? Top or
bottom?” “I think you’re
pretty much a top.” “And that’s…?” “Fine for me.” Spike’s hands slid
over Xander’s ass and tightened. “You want me to fuck
you?” he purred, wanting to hear the words from Xander’s mouth. “Yeah,” Xander
admitted softly, punctuating the agreement with another kiss. “I want you to fuck me.” The kisses grew more
heated; bodies rubbed and thrust. “Tell me you want my
cock inside you.” “God, yes, soon,
fuck me, please, I want you, I want your cock in me, I want you, Spike.” Spike’s tongue left a damp
trail over Xander’s neck before he began to suck, choosing to mark Xander as
his immediately. The sensation made Xander
extremely uncomfortable, and it was all he could do not to wriggle away to
prevent Spike’s property being defiled. “Xan, love, taste so
good,” Spike growled, and yes, that was Spike, and they were playing, and this
was okay. Okay? Playing, playing, play for real, this
is… Real. Playing real.
Practicalities. If this were… I’d… “You have something
with you?” Xander dragged in a breath to ask, because he knew he would if this
were real. “Mmm?” “Y’know? Condoms?” He felt Spike
hesitate at that and smiled to himself. Playing for real and you don’t score, mister. Spike’s head came up and the supremely
confident expression was back. “I think…” He nipped Xander’s bottom lip. “…you’ll take a chance for me.” “I don’t take
chances.” “Can’t I tempt
you? Just this once?” Spike
cajoled. “Think how it’ll be with
nothing between us. Skin on skin.” Xander’s level of discomfort rose. Because of his physiology Spike had never had
to consider such a thing as unsafe sex and its potentially fatal consequences,
but if circumstances had been different he would never have risked Xander in
any way, unlike this…this stranger.
Xander began to withdraw. “I don’t think I
want to…” “C’mon, pet. You don’t want me to tie you down and force
you to have a good time, do you?” Xander had heard
that suggestion dozens of times before, and on all of those occasions he’d
known it was harmless teasing; right now, as unsettled as he was, the shock of
Spike coming out with such a disturbing proposition made Xander abruptly shove
him away. “Get out of here.” “Love?” Spike
frowned as Xander avoided his attempts to re-establish contact. “What’s wrong?” “This is.” “No.” “Yes. This is wrong.” Spike wasn’t sure
what to think: Xander often played hard-to-get in their little scenarios
because he knew Spike liked the chase.
But… Yes, there was a definite but involved here. “I promise you,
love. There’s nothing wrong.” Once again he reached out for Xander. “Let’s sit down and sort this out.” “Don’t touch me,”
Xander warned, steering clear of the vampire’s hands.
Very
nearly caught – touched – and the intense feeling that he was cheating on Spike returned in an
overwhelming rush. He fled
to the far side of the room, and when he looked back his eyes were brimming with tears. “Can’t do this.” Spike swore inwardly
for letting this go on for so long; outwardly his words were calm and gentle. “Xander, love, it’s
okay, no more playing, this is just us now.” “I won’t cheat on
Spike. Never. I would never.” Xander began to swipe at his neck where Spike
had been sucking. “You marked me, you –
you – how fucking dare you? He’ll see
and…” “Xander, Spike,
here, now.” He gestured to the two of
them. “Stupid idea comes to a halt and
it’s us, just us.” Xander pointed at
the new clothes. “That’s not Spike.” Spike solved that
problem by stripping to his bare skin in seconds. “This is. This is your Spike.” Xander saw Spike, recognised him, and the
expression on his face veered from angry to frightened; he dropped his head
into his shaking hands, now allowing Spike to come and hold him. “Fucking hell,” came
the muffled words. “What’s going
on? This is all wrong. We’re wrong.
This place… I have to go home.” Spike eased the
hands away so he could see Xander’s unhappy face, witness the genuine fear and
upset. “Xander, it’s all
right, we’re safe here, you’re with me and…” “I can’t be here, I
need to go home.” “Try to explain
why.” “I… I…”
Xander shrugged. “It’s… This place.
Somehow this place, it has to be.
Fucking hell, what is wrong with this place? Don’t you feel it?” Spike slowly shook
his head. “It’s not this
place, there’s nothing wrong here. I
think…I think it’s you.” Xander fell
completely still. “Me?” he asked in a
whisper. “You think there’s something
wrong with me?” “Not wrong
exactly. At all, even. I think there’s something inside of you that
knows you don’t belong here. Remember I
told you about it? The something that
came out before, when you were ill.” “Wouldn’t I
know? I’d be conscious of that.” “I’m not sure you
would,” Spike admitted ruefully, pulling Xander back into a close hug, feeling
the panic beginning to build in the confused human. “If it’s there, in
me, if it’s right… We can’t be safe
here, if… I need to go home. And I…I can’t… I can’t figure out how to get home. Help me, please, help me, Spike.” Spike spent some
time calming Xander down, unable to understand the cause but able to pander to
the effect. Eventually he had Xander
relatively in control of himself again. “You start to pack,
and I’ll make a couple of calls,” he told him as he pulled on black t-shirt and
jeans, becoming Xander’s very recognisable Spike. “We’re going home?” Spike took another
look, troubled by the confusion on Xander’s face as he tried to grasp what was
happening. “One way or
another. Even if we have to buy a car and drive.” Xander nodded and
turned to packing, looking as baffled by that as everything else at this point
in time. Spike called the airport with
little hope of a flight in the next few hours; he was soon proved right about that. Biting back seething
resentment, he called Patrick. … It seemed an
unbelievably short space of time before the pair were climbing from a
helicopter onto their own lawn, watching their transport fade into the dark sky before
Xander sank to the ground. Spike dropped
their luggage and knelt beside him, gently stroking his back as he took huge
gulps of air. “Want to go inside?” “I’m okay. Now I’m here I’m okay.” Yes, he was already
well on the way to okay, the difference was marked: the colourless, shaky,
clingy Xander of Seattle was quickly returning to normal in these
surroundings. Spike leant over and
buried several kisses in the dark hair before Xander turned and manhandled him
flat, laying his head on Spike’s chest and giving a creak of satisfaction as
strong arms securely enfolded him. “You wouldn’t prefer
to do this indoors?” “What happened,
Spike?” “I don’t know what
happened, love. We’ll try to sort that
out when we’ve had some sleep and are thinking straight. I don’t know what happened.” But I
bloody-well intend to find out. They looked up as
they heard noises from the woods; within minutes, Hamish – whose idea of
lodging with the Sinclairs appeared to be hanging about in his own back yard –
was bounding over to them, throwing himself down beside them and ecstatically
lolling over their recumbent forms. … Within the hour
Spike was climbing out of the Jag and storming up to the MacDonald’s front
door, hammering on the wood with a fist.
He guessed he’d been expected – the gates had automatically opened at
his approach – and he hoped Patrick had prepared some good answers for him
because he only wanted to beat the man… Or whatever he is. …senseless if absolutely necessary. Patrick opened the
front door and stood back to let Spike barge inside, understanding the mood his
visitor was in and not bothering with a greeting. He crossed to the living room and Spike
followed, waiting until the door was closed before turning on the man. “I want to know
exactly what is going on.” Patrick nodded
thoughtfully. “No.” Spike’s nails cut
into the palms on his hands as his fists clenched in anger. “What happened
tonight?” “Is Alex all right?” “Now, yes. On
his own territory, passed out in his own bed, bloody great mutt guarding him. Couple of hours ago he was a wreck,
he was lost, terrified, and it was painful to see.” “It must have been
very difficult.” “You told us to take
a vacation, you set us up for this.” “No!” “You let Xander be
damaged and…” “I had no idea this
would happen, Spike,” Patrick protested.
“Sometimes… You expect too much
of me.” “Because you’re
behind all the weird, you’re the one in control here.” “That isn’t exactly
true.” “What then? You’re going to try and tell me this is all a
misunderstanding? That what happened
with Xander was just a quirk of fate?
I’m warning you,” Spike furiously challenged, “don’t go there.” So Patrick said
nothing. He wandered to the far side of
the room, body language adamantly stating how much he wanted to avoid this
confrontation, but Spike couldn’t settle for that. Not now, not after seeing Xander hurt one
time too many. “Start at the top,
shall we? What are you, Patrick?” Patrick slowly
turned back. “I’m not going to
answer your questions, Spike, and it’s for your own good. Yours and…”
Patrick sighed sadly. Closed his
eyes. “Xander’s.” That name from
Patrick and Spike felt a chill. Anxiety
flickered through him, rapidly transmuting to fury at the thought of yet
another unanswered question. “What is Xander to
you?” Spike demanded. Patrick smiled then,
a private smile that Spike resented and longed to rip from his face. “He’s my very dear
friend.” “What else?” “Isn’t that enough?” “It’s not all, is
it?” “Spike, I
can’t. You have to…” “Trust you?” Spike
spat. “You expect me to trust you? What have you done to earn it? You lie to us, you manipulate us, you try to buy us. You let me and Xander go away, knowing…” “I promise you, I
had no idea of what would happen.” “You lying piece of
shit. If you’d seen him…” “I don’t know everything.” “If you had any suspicion…” “Suspicion?” Patrick gave a shallow laugh. “You think I’d talk about my suspicions to
you? When I want you and Alex to have as normal a life as possible. I’m suspicious of everything, Spike, and I'll be damned if I let that...infect you.” “This time was different,” Spike insisted stubbornly, “you should have…” “You already think I interfere too much.” “That isn’t a good enough excuse!” Spike shouted
him down. Patrick met Spike's livid gaze unflinchingly. “You’re right. It’s not.” That was apparent by the discomfort on Patrick’s face. The sorrow. It didn’t make sense to Spike, this man loved Xander, there was no question of that, but he was unwilling to be honest to keep him safe. “Pointless
me asking what’s happening here, the big picture.” “Yes. Pointless, I'm afraid.” “When will it be over?” “Not long now.” “How long is not long?” Spike demanded with barely
suppressed rage, stalking toward Patrick and prepared to out his demon to get a
little of what he wanted. “I can’t tell you. I’m trying to protect you, Spike, you have to believe that.” “Protect me from what?” “I can’t tell you.” “Want me to make you tell me?” “Threats won’t
help, just believe me, please believe
me, I’m trying to protect you.” “And I’m
trying to protect Xander.” “You’re
endangering him.” It was all the provocation Spike needed, the suggestion that
he would ever be careless with Xander’s safety, and he hurled himself at
Patrick, slamming him up against the wall by his throat. Spike’s eyes shimmered gold and he saw
Patrick’s alarm, but somehow it didn’t feel like the man feared for himself. “Don’t, Spike,” he choked, “Will, don’t show…” “This?” Spike’s true face emerged, and before Patrick could catch
him to save him, there was a deafening crack of energy and Spike was within
it’s grip, crushed and burned, thrown across the room at an incalculable
velocity, bouncing off the far wall and landing in a twisted heap on the
carpet. Spike knew instantly how badly
damaged he was, and as he felt his very being start to disintegrate there came
another sensation, the rolling power that he associated with Patrick, winding
around him in unyielding support, binding him and forcing cohesion upon a body
that was ready to turn to dust. Gratitude, better understanding that came too late, regret filled Spike’s last seconds. He
clung to the memory of Xander’s face as his world faded to hated darkness. “Beth,” Patrick mouthed, still flat against the wall, sweat
streaking down his face, body shaking with the strain of defying the natural
way. “Bethia.” The sound of running and she burst into the room, taking in
the sight of her husband and of Spike’s broken body with wide, frightened eyes. “What do I do?” “Blood,” gasped Patrick. Beth’s disappearance and return was rapid, and she fell to
her knees beside Spike, stabbing into her wrist with the knife she’d gone to
fetch, immediately pressing the wound to Spike’s mouth. Dropping the knife, her free hand stroked
across Spike’s once again human features, fingers coming away from grey skin
with a fine layer of ash clinging to them. “Come on, my sweet boy, for me, drink for me.” She rubbed his throat, collecting more ash,
glancing at Patrick and seeing the strain taking its toll as he slid down the
wall in a state of near-collapse. Their
gaze met and she willed her strength to him, desperate for him to keep Spike
with them for all their sakes. Patrick’s
eyes clenched shut and the swell of power increased, to the accompaniment of a
veritable chant of thanks. Attention
back to Spike, and Beth’s tears were falling onto his face now as she huddled
over him, begging him to drink, to save his life. He swallowed once and she sang his praises,
offered more encouragement, talked of Xander needing him and loving him. He began to drink, gulp after gulp, instincts
roused and attending to what the demon required to keep himself whole. Beth weakly gathered him into her lap, never
disturbing the contact between mouth and wrist, letting the vampire drain her
without a moment’s hesitation. With an electric snap Patrick’s energy dissipated; the moment hung in the air as two frightened people waited to see if Spike would shatter into dust. Breathless seconds passed. Spike remained whole. With a
choked sob of relief Patrick tried to rise but stumbled back to his hands and
knees, having no choice but to feebly crawl across the floor to his wife. “Stop now. Stop,” he
urged. Allowing Spike one more swallow, Beth eased her wrist away,
cuddling the still form to her and rocking. Patrick took Spike’s hand and cradled it,
desperately grateful that he was able to hold more than dust. They sat in silence for a while, recovering from exertion,
shock, blood loss, each making contact with Spike in their own way. “I tried to stop him,” Patrick said after some time, voice
still reflecting the trauma. “He wouldn’t listen?” “There wasn’t really a chance for him to. It happened so fast, I could do nothing to
help him.” “You saved his life.” “I couldn’t protect him.
My greatest fear. I couldn’t
protect him. It shouldn’t have come to
this.” “You’ve done all you can, we both know that. He’ll know it one day.” “If he has the chance,” Patrick said defeatedly. Beth refused to acknowledge that, back to
crooning to the man in her arms. “Could
I have been more honest?” Patrick asked her.
“Would it have made a difference?” “You know it wouldn’t.
Besides, honesty has certain…consequences,” Beth said cagily, leaning
down to press a kiss into Spike’s singed hair.
“Foolish boy.” Patrick studied the hand he held, the skin’s texture and
pallor, understanding that their problems weren’t over yet. “You’ll have to call Max, get him to send blood.” Beth nodded. “If you’ll rest. You
must build up some strength to help Will.” “Spike,” Patrick gently reminded her. “Spike.” She touched
the vampire’s currently smooth brow. “You saw
him?” Patrick nodded. “How did he look? When he…”
The words – the terminology – wouldn’t come. “Extraordinary. A little…frightening.” “Inhuman?” Beth bit her lip to stop it quivering. Patrick teetered on the edge of worthless platitudes before withdrawing to a more practical place. “Go and arrange
for the blood, my love.” “Yes. You’ll not…” “I won’t leave him.” Beth carefully handed Spike over to her husband and hoped
that, conscious or not, the two men would find some comfort in one another. She telephoned Max and asked for half-a-dozen bodies-worth of his finest, the order to be delivered within the hour, then called Moira, and finally – reluctantly – Jake, explaining as much of the day’s events as she knew, asking them to be ready to support Xander if Spike didn’t recover by morning. Duty done, Beth slumped at the foot of the stairs and let
the quiet envelop her. If she
concentrated she could hear, possibly feel, Patrick’s breathing. It was rapid, fevered, as he fought to
recover from the expenditure of energy it had taken to save Spike, and she
began to tremble as she realised how close she had come to losing them
both. She ran her fingertips over the
fading silver scar on her already healed wrist, and once again her tears were
falling as she remembered those she had loved and saved. Remembered those she had loved and lost.
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