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A Song of Christmas in B |
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"It is required of every man," the ghost returned, "that the spirit
within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide;
and, if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after
death." - Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol First Verse: Past The
first time it happened he was fairly certain he was dreaming. Although there
wasn't any creepy man offering him cheese, there was a particularly memorable
bleached menace watching him from a shadowy corner. If it had not been for the
smirk on that face, he would have thought it was a nightmare. It
had been scarcely a month after the destruction of Sunnydale, and he had only
just begun his lonely travels through Africa searching for lost junior Slayers.
The Saharan nights were feverishly hot and didn't allow for soundless sleep.
The days of endless searching were better suited to the chaos in his mind
during that time. When he wasn't lost, he was being chased after by tribal
elders being accused of witchcraft. It
was after one of those frustrating and fruitless days that Spike appeared
before him looking as timeless as he ever did in his long black duster coat and
slicked back blonde hair. Xander had been too exhausted, even in his
booze-induced dreams, to muster up any sort of snark or protest. He just
watched as the ghost looked upon him with an oddly soft, gentle smile. With a small
shake of his head, the baritone voice finally spoke out. "What
the hell are you doing to yourself, Pet?" Xander
turned to follow the ex-vampire as he glided over to crouch in front of a small
crate on the floor that'd been placed haphazardly beside his bedding. A pale
white, and long fingered hand ran above the empty shot glass and a knocked over
bottle of rum. The blonde let his arms rest across his bent knees, and with a lift of the eyebrow asked,"Come
now, where is your bottle of Jack? Isn't that what your father favored?" Xander
paled at hearing that, but what could he say? It was true... Captain Morgan had
become his new best friend. Plus, rum was cheap, and Xander liked it. He stayed
silent, but sent a mutinous glare at the bleached blonde menace. He
watched as the ghost idly wandered around his small tent, carefully examining
things without touching. Every so often raising a disdainful eyebrow at one item
or another. This went on for several more minutes before Xander finally sighed
noisily, unable to take the thick silence anymore, and finally said in a quiet
voice, "Dead boy, what the hell do you want?" A
little laugh was the first response before an amused voice responded, "Now
that's one I haven't heard in ages." A soft sigh escaped before he looked
back at Xander with sad eyes and said, "The question Xander, is what do you want?" He let that sink in for
a moment before adding, "You're off to a fine start so far. All you have
left to do for this traditional Harris Christmas is to drag your sleeping bag
out under the stars." With
a smirk, the apparition disappeared in the stunned silence. sxsxsxsxsx "It
matters little," she said, softly. "To you, very little. Another idol
has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I
would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve." - Charles
Dickens, A Christmas Carol Second Verse: Present Xander
saw Spike a few more times over the next couple days. He would never speak, and
seemed to only be there to observe. Truth be told, his negotiations with
various parents and elders concerning training for the mini Slayers had slowed
because of those visits. Apparently people aren't used to strange pale men
appearing out of nowhere. Xander
had also been drinking less. Every time he picked up his glass, much less
looked at a bottle booze, he could just see the smirk on Spike's face. Bastard.
He manages to ruin every good thing in his life, even after he's dead. Not
drinking every night also had forced him to think. The first and most obvious
was reflecting on his family (or rather lack of it). Coming out here was
supposed to be about forgetting. He was the solitary child, neglected by his
friends and family. But perhaps this was his chance for a fresh start now that
he was finally away from the influence of said family and friends. So
what did he want to do with his life now he was all grown up? One night, fresh
from a bath, he sat down to start planning just that. He wrote down his
interests, and his skills (which were surprisingly many, and varied considering
his past). He even contemplated his dreams of old. It
was upon this scene that Spike next appeared. Now considering that he was
awake, and most definitely sober, he knew that he wasn't dreaming. But, he
wasn't sure that was any better considering the alternative. His eyes widened
with that realization, "Oh my God. You're really here." Spike
gave him a small smile, but didn't answer directly. Instead he said, "You
clean up rather well." Xander blushed an embarrassing pink at the slow
perusal of his bare chest. With a tilt of his head and a pointed glance at his
notes, he continued, "Making some changes?" Xander
looked down at this, not quite ready to admit anything. But he found himself
answering regardless, barely nodding his head as he fiddled with a corner of
his notebooks. He heard a soft sigh before a breeze brushed past his shoulder. From
behind him, Spike once again asked, "So have you decided what you're doing
here yet?" The
brunette didn't answer this time either, but actually met his eyes this time.
Those eyes were such a clear and vibrant blue. He'd always thought that the
vampire had such startling eyes. It was one reason he always had trouble
meeting them. This time he searched (for what he wasn't sure) but the answer
was there all the same. He
asked a question of his own, "What I'd really like to find out is what you are doing here? Why are you
tormenting me?" "Oh,
Pet, you don't know torment. I honestly hope you never do." Xander was shocked
to note that he was completely serious. It seemed that death changed a person. The
reminder of his original question got him back on track. "Not that I don't
appreciate the visit Marley, but I'm curious how you ended up coming to me. I
would think the first person you would visit is Buffy. Or at least give Captain
Forehead a hard time." Spike snorted at that and smiled at him. "I
did actually, and I'm currently stuck haunting my dearest Sire. However, that's
a story for another time." Spike took a couple steps closer and said
softly, "It was you that I was most curious about. For the one who always sees, you seem bloody
determined to remain blind." Xander
actually smiled at that. He had it coming. It was the one thing, something he
would have not readily admitted, that used to scare him the most about the
vampire. They could both see into the heart of the matter quickly. In a lot of
ways, they often played the same role. He finally answered, "I know that
now. And thank you." Spike
nodded his head. He stepped back before saying, "I have to go soon. Just
give it some thought; I want your answer some day." After a moment more of
studying the man, he turned towards the doorway. Xander
spoke up quickly, "When will I see you next?" Spike
paused momentarily, and turned his head to the side. He hesitated before
answering, " I'm not sure, but I will be back." Those bright blue
eyes met his once more before adding, "For you I will be back." The
ghost turned back to the door and disappeared from one step to the next. sxsxsxsxsx "Ghost
of the Future," he exclaimed, "I fear you more than any spectre I
have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live
to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it
with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?" - Charles Dickens, A
Christmas Carol Last Verse: Future He
didn't see Spike again for a year and a day. He was shocked to see him walk up
to him rather than appearing out of nowhere.
Seeing those bright eyes, and happy smile directed at him made his
stomach flutter. He smiled back, and greeted the blonde, "Long time no
haunt." Spike
caught up with him in the front yard of his London cottage, and he felt warm
arms surround him in a tight hug. Tears for his friend gathered in his eyes as
he gasped out a question, "But... how? Is this real?" A
kiss to his cheek before that warm baritone voice answered, "Real enough,
kitten. But that's a story for another time." Xander stepped back finally,
rolling his eyes at the non answer. Spike, of course just smirked. Spike
followed him into his house, silently accepting the offered drink
(nonalcoholic, naturally). They sat in comfortable silence on the little couch
in the front room. Xander
quirked a smile at his visitor and said, "You clean up rather nice."
He really did, too. Gone was the black shirt, jeans, and duster. This time he
was wearing soft grey trousers, and a sweater just a couple shades darker than
his eyes. His
answer was a simple smile. Spike raised an eyebrow before asking, "Have
you figured out yet what you're doing here?" With
a small laugh, Xander answered, "Waiting for you." He self-conciously
struggled a bit, but didn't drop his eyes. "It seems like such a simple
question, but I've had a lot to think about." Taking
another sip of his drink, he gave it some thought before continuing, "I've
spent my whole life doing everything for other people. So I suppose I should
thank you. Maybe this time around I can finally do something for myself."
It had been a tough year for sure, but he was certain it would be worth it in
the end. After
the last time Spike visited, he had packed off the last of the slayers and
returned to the new headquarters in England within two weeks. A month, and
arguments with four angry friends later, he had finally settled into a place of
his own. With
the help Anya's bank account, and a bit of soul searching, he decided to buy a
little cottage and settle into college life. He wasn't sure where he was going
with it all, but he had time. Maybe he would become a teacher. Xander
shook himself out of his musing and found Spike watching him. "Why don't
you stay for Christmas? I've already got dinner cooking, and there's plenty for
both of us." Spike
took his hand and held it gently before answering, "I'd love to, Pet.
Thank you." sxsxsxsxsx "I
will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live
in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive
within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may
sponge away the writing on this stone!" - Charles Dickens, A Christmas
Carol Merry
Christmas everyone!!!
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