Spike’s Holiday Hunt 3

OPEN SEASON ON BOYS
by EntreNous

Xander murmured and stretched. It was nice to not wake up to his blaring alarm clock for once. He wriggled his toes a little, then wriggled them to the tune of “Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!”

“Ah, winter vacation,” he announced to himself. “A time for watching the VH1 “Behind the Music” marathon and catching up on old “Farscape” episodes. A time for eating creamy spreadable chocolate frosting straight from the tub and chasing it down with Yoohoo! A time for sleeping twelve hours in a row and jacking off whenever I feel like it.”

He sighed happily. “Good times.”

He took his time hauling himself out of bed and examining his potential goatee in the bathroom mirror before resolving to shave later on that day.

It wasn’t until he’d set up the coffeemaker, tried and failed to find his pair of fuzzy socks, positioned himself on the couch, and flipped on the television to find out what Matt and Katie were up to that he remembered the events of the prior evening.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “What the--”

He slapped his hand over his mouth before he uttered another word. The hunt! His crazy holiday promise to Spike! What had he been thinking?

He began to remove his hand, but then thought better of it. He looked around to see if there were any obvious technological devices planted in the apartment. Good thing he’d stopped speaking out loud. For all he knew, Spike already had the place bugged and was ready to track his movements.

Glancing around the room nervously, he listened for the sound of . . . anything vaguely hunt-like.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Xander shrieked.

After a few moments he laughed in what he hoped was a careless guffaw. “I sure hope that no one tries to hunt me today,” he remarked with false cheer. “I’ll be pretty hard to find, especially for people who aren’t so good at walking around in daylight.”

He assumed an air of nonchalance and got up casually before racing to the door and peering through the security peephole. When he saw that it was his superintendent, he took a deep breath. “Okay, okay,” he said in a placating tone to himself. “Gotta calm down.” He opened the door very slowly.

“Yeah, uh, hi,” he said, running his fingers through his hair nervously. “What’s up, Joe?”

“Harris,” the super replied in a wary voice. “You okay in here?”

“Oh, sure,” Xander said “Couldn’t be better, me. Why do you ask?”

His super stared at him for a moment, seemed about to say something, but then apparently thought better of it. “You work too hard. Have some time off for the holiday?” When Xander nodded, he shook his head. “You rest up, now. Don’t want to have to take a more extended break, right?” He gave Xander a meaningful look with the last phrase.

“Right,” Xander said miserably. The people in his building already thought he was a weirdo. It was hard not to think someone who occasionally carried a small axe or came home covered in purple goo wasn’t odd. But no one had suggested to him even in this implicit way that he’d better watch out or the men in white would cart him away.

“Okay then,” Joe said gruffly. He stuck out a loaf wrapped in aluminum foil. “Wife made pumpkin bread. Wanted to give you one since you were so generous with the staff donation this holiday.”

After a few more mundane exchanges, and appropriate enthusiasm about the baked goods, Xander bid the man farewell and slumped up against his closed door. “Yay,” he said weakly to the pumpkin bread. “No Spike at the door. Just innocent holiday yumminess.”

He paused, and then went back into the kitchen to get more hot coffee. “This is ridiculous,” he told himself under his breath, and put his hand on the receiver. Should he call Willow and ask her how he was supposed to handle this hunt thing? Or maybe he should just take her advice from last night -- go about his business, do whatever he was going to do over the next few days. Just try to ignore that someone was going to be trailing him, trying to take him down in some as yet unidentified manner. All righty then.

“Maybe, just maybe,” Xander told himself, “I should just get under the covers and hide.”

***

After a bit of cowering under his comforter, Xander had tried to treat the day like any normal day. He couldn’t really bring himself to leave the apartment for the early part of the day, however. Even though he might have done that anyway, just stayed home relaxing, it gave him the wiggins to think that his uncertainty about Spike was informing the decision.

Finally, the afternoon brought a responsibility he couldn’t shirk, and Xander left the apartment with some relief. As previously arranged with Buffy, he picked up Dawn at three p.m. when her school began its two-week long December break.

“Finally!” Dawn huffed with a grin when she reached his car. She tossed her backpack into the open trunk and planted a quick kiss on Xander’s cheek. When he gave her a big hug, she turned to smirk at the girls gathered on the steps. They looked suitably impressed at the sight of Dawn’s older “boyfriend.”

Xander absently opened the door for Dawn, scanning the area with darting eyes. No Spike here either. Well, that wasn’t so unusual, was it? Even the last few hours of winter daylight seldom sang a siren’s song to the vampire community. Still, Xander felt that Spike could have been there, if he’d wanted.

“So you’re out and on the streets until after New Year’s,” Xander remarked as they pulled away. “Must feel pretty good.”

“It does,” Dawn confirmed with a bounce as she waved merrily at the cheerleaders gathered at the front of the school. The Razorbackettes gaped openly at her and Xander.

Then she turned to Xander with a serious face as he steered them back onto the main road. “But the girls at stupid Kent Prep got out, like, two weeks ago. I guess so they can go to Aspen and Vail and stuff. Stupid Kent Prep girls.” Dawn sniffled injuriously. “Who wants to go to stupid Aspen, and ski with cute guys, and go to all the cool holiday parties, and hang out with rich jerks that have their own cars?” Dawn’s face became increasingly screwed up and reddened.

Xander rushed to avert the sudden mood swing with alacrity. He’d almost forgotten how fast she could change gears, and he very nearly complimented her on the dramatic shift before he caught himself. “Hey, who needs Aspen when you have your very own chauffeur to the mall? And a peppermint stick ice-cream sundae with your name on it at Walt’s Scoops -- my treat?”

“Ooooh,” Dawn breathed, her face brightening. “And then can we check out the puppies at the pet store? And will you come with me to the “Kickin’!” store and watch me try on hats? And maybe we can get you a sweater to uh, cover up that,” she gestured vaguely at the bright blue snow-flake covered tee Xander wore, “shirt?”

“Sure. Great. Anything,” Xander agreed, his eyes scanning the road.

“Hey, what’s up with you anyway?” Dawn asked. “You seem all ooky or something,” she pronounced as she hugged her arms to her chest.

“Uh, sorry Dawnie. . . Just a little distracted.”

“Oh yeah,” Dawn nodded. “How’s that whole hunt thing going?”

Xander gripped the wheel more tightly.

“It isn’t. I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything all day.”

“Huh,” she said thoughtfully.

“Huh,” he repeated. “What huh? There is no huh. What are you huh-ing about?”

“Nothing,” she said with wide eyes.

“What do you know?” he demanded.

“Listen, Xander, I have no idea what Spike has planned for you. . .”

“He has things planned for me?” Xander exclaimed.

“Hey! Keep your eyes on the road, buster,” Dawn shrieked.

Xander hurriedly turned his attention back to the road and righted the car so that it was no longer straddling two lanes. They drove for a few minutes in complete and utter silence.

Once Xander had pulled into a parking space at the mall and turned off the ignition, Dawn put her hand on his.

“Honestly? I have no idea what’s going to happen with it. But as long as you can’t get hurt -- Spike agreed, plus he couldn’t hurt you, plus Willow said he wouldn’t -- what’s the big?”

“I don’t like feeling that something’s going to happen and I don’t know what,” Xander scowled. “And just because he’s not supposed to hurt me doesn’t mean that he won’t. You may not realize this,” he said dramatically, “but I’m not as strong as I look.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Come shopping and I’ll make you forget all about it!” Dawn replied cheerfully.

“Great,” Xander said morosely. “Shopping. Sore feet and the spending of my Christmas bonus on jeans you don’t need. Sounds swell.”

***

The trip to the mall proved uneventful, besides the new corduroys that Xander ended up buying Dawn. When he dropped her home, Buffy invited him in, and they ordered pizza.

They set up camp in the living room with dinner and snacks. Buffy lolled in the easy chair, already changed into her pajamas. Dawn stretched out on the floor, silent for a moment due to a mouth full of pepperoni and cheese. When “Frosty the Snowman” came on, they all unanimously voted it the worst of the Christmas specials, and then watched it avidly.

As the credits rolled, Xander relaxed into the couch and took a gulp of Coke.

“So. What’s happening on the hunt front?” Buffy inquired.

Xander choked and spit out his Coke.

“There’s nothing happening,” Dawn answered for him. “Spike’s been all mysterioso. Hasn’t shown up, hasn’t done anything to Xander yet.”

“ ‘Done anything to Xander’?” Xander asked in a whisper.

“Weird,” Buffy remarked. “You’d think he’d have tried something by now. Especially since he’s only got three more days before his hunt . . . er, gift . . . expires.”

Xander cowered into the cushions.

“Yeah,” Dawn replied nonchalantly. “He must really have something up his sleeve if he’s waiting this long to start up.”

“Okay! Stop right there! Stop with the hunt talk!” Xander put in hurriedly.

The girls looked at him, and then exchanged knowing looks with one another. Xander willfully ignored them and turned back to the comfort of his pizza slice.

While Xander munched away, Dawn jerked her head towards the stairs, and Buffy arched her eyebrows before nodding.

“We think you should stay here tonight,” Buffy said seriously. “You’re a little freaked, and you should hang with us until you feel better.”

“Okay,” Xander answered quickly. Why bother trying to play manly-man when he could have slayer-protection for the night? If nothing else, it would help him get a better night’s sleep instead of tossing and turning, wondering what was going on with the predator currently on his trail.

***

Xander snuggled under the covers in the Summers’ guest room. He flitted in and out of that weird space between dreaming and waking, vaguely registering the gray sky outside that indicated the sun would rise shortly. After a small sigh and a crack to his shoulders he turned on his side and scuttled back against the wall with a start. Because there, at the window, his face pressed to the glass . . . was Spike.

“Spike!” Xander shouted hoarsely. “Help!”

He heard a thump, a yelp, and a pounding of steps, and in less than two seconds, Buffy was at the doorway, stake in hand.

“What? Where? What?” she demanded. Her hand was already jerking up and down in a stabbing motion with the stake.

“There!” Xander cried out, pointing at the window. Where, of course, there was no longer a Spike visage pasted to the surface.

“Hang on,” she said wearily.

“No way,” Xander asserted himself. “I’m coming with.”

She waved him on wearily, and he followed her, though he couldn’t keep up with her flying run down the stairs. Before he got halfway down, she was back, standing in the entryway and yawning.

“No Spike,” she said simply.

“Maybe he ran away,” Xander proposed.

“Nah,” she said through another yawn. “No tingly slayer sense. No Spike. C’mon. I’ll make you oatmeal.”

“Spike was here, Buffy,” Xander said seriously.

Buffy looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay, Xander. If you say he was here. . . ”

***

The rest of the day was a replay of the early morning scenario. Only the locations and witnesses changed.

***

“Did you hear that?” Xander said to Willow as they walked down a quiet street together. Tara had very nicely but firmly made them leave the house so that she could meditate without their continual chatter.

“Nope,” Willow said. She skipped a little, happily, and linked her arm in Xander’s.

“I really think that Spike is following us,” Xander whispered to her. He brought her to a halt and held both her arms, turning her to face him. “Just listen, okay?”

Willow dutifully listened. But even Xander had to admit that the sound had stopped.

“How would Spike be following us down the middle of the street in broad daylight?” Willow asked reasonably. And of course Xander had zero snappy answers to that particular question.

***

“There. There!” Xander pointed at the flash of platinum blond. Giles looked dutifully. But there was no Spike in the hedges outside the supermarket. Xander gave up when Giles raised his eyebrows extra-high, and trudged inside to help with the shopping for the Christmas dinner the watcher insisted on hosting this year.

“Xander, whatever it is that Spike has planned for you, why do you imagine that he’d attempt to snatch you outside the grocer’s?” Giles inquired.

“I don’t know,” Xander said in frustration. “But I saw him.”

“Yes, yes of course,” Giles said absently. “Why don’t you fetch the non-perishables, and I’ll go select the fresh ingredients?”

***

“Damn it,” Xander hissed in the movie theater that evening.

“Spike?” Dawn asked with a knowing glance. A smile lurked on her face, but she was trying her damnedest not to laugh at him outright.

Xander opened his mouth, ready to point out that a familiarly-accented voice had been giving the characters onscreen advice loudly, but the comments had stopped.

“Oh, forget it,” Xander huffed, and tipped over the tub of popcorn out of pure spite.

***

Nothing. No one. No Spike anywhere. But Xander felt so sure that Spike was around, just out of sight, following him, watching him . . . Who cared, though, when no one believed him? Two days down already, and what the hell was Spike trying to pull?

“That’s just fine,” Xander said to himself as he got into bed. He’d refused to go back to Buffy’s, deciding that he certainly wasn’t interested in hiding from Spike any longer. He flipped over onto his stomach after switching off the light. “So he wants to follow me around but not be seen? Thinks he can freak me out with his weirdo holiday hunting tactics? Well, he’s got another thing coming. Because first thing tomorrow, I’m going to find him.”

Caught for Christmas