In From The Cold 25
Three months ago, Xander had wanted nothing more than having
William all to himself. He'd have given anything. Really.
But now? Not so much.
Okay, so having Will to himself wasn't a bad thing - per se - but it hadn't
turned out to be such a good thing either.
Xander always had a cold side and - even with spring coming on and biting winds
tapering into naughty nibbles - Xander did not like being cold.
And then there was William.
Well, there was always William and that really was a good thing - extra
good. Extra super good with a side of - well, without a side of Spike, and
there was the bad.
Because without Spike around, William seemed…less. His eyes were less bright;
his smile was less ready. Not moody, but not exactly happy either. Just less.
And having all the beer to himself just wasn't as much fun as he'd thought it'd
be, on those nights when it seemed Spike would suck down an entire six-pack
each time Xander turned his back.
A double monster gutbuster patty slammed down onto the grill next to Xander's
limp spatula and he jumped.
"A busload of college kids just came in," Buffy told him, hefting one
of the restaurant's enormous bags of french fries onto her shoulder like it was
a pillow. Xander's spine creaked in sympathy. "Try not to grill your hand
again, okay?" Xander looked down to his right hand, still bandaged up to
the wrist and useless.
"Uh. Yeah. Thanks, Buff."
For a couple of weeks there, work had bordered on fun. Not the grill or the
register or the families, god forbid. Those were never fun. But for a couple of
weeks there, the constant awareness that, at any second, a hungry and horny
Spike might appear looking for a fuck had kept Xander on just the right sort of
edge...
And if thinking about that chance had occasionally put Xander in a state in
which he had to hide himself from women who weren't Faith and children who
weren't blind from the waist down, well, it seemed like a fair tradeoff.
But these days work was just long and boring. And Xander went home at night
dirty and drained and in no condition to have any positive effect on William's
mood.
Grease hissed. Xander blinked and tried to focus on the grill. He really didn't
need to put his other hand out of commission and be sent home early. He just
needed...
Before Xander could finish that thought Faith was calling him to the back. He
passed off his spatula to Jonathan and headed toward the sound of Faith's
voice. When he saw her holding the phone, his heart leapt into his throat. No
one but William could be calling him at work and William wouldn't do that
unless it was serious.
He lunged forward and took hold of the receiver. "Hello?"
"'Lo there, luv. How ya been?"
"Spike?"
"Who else? How many British lovers you got these days?"
"Just the two," Xander answered absently, not quite believing it was
Spike on the phone. "More like one, really."
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"Look, pet, I… I can't stay on the phone for long. I sorta need your
help."
"What is it? Where are you?"
"Jail."
Xander was familiar with the phrase 'the blood drained from his face' because
come on - who wasn't? That's what made it a classic cliché. But until that
moment, Xander hadn't known the sensation of blood draining from his
face or how accurate that description was.
All his blood drained out – cold, shaky, clammy - like a vampire victim. And
all it'd taken was one tiny word.
"Mate - you there? Only got five minutes." A thread of strain
underlay Spike's words and Xander could see him so clearly in his mind's eye -
fidgeting for a cigarette, a smoke.
"I'm here."
"Thank god. Now listen. It's only trespassing, luv. Got thrown out of a
party and Angel thought he'd make the coppers earn their pay - make it hard on
them, yeah?"
"What - shit. You're gonna make me break the news to William." Part
of Xander was thrilled Spike could count on him and the other part - the other
part was remembering every episode of Law and Order it'd ever seen, and
trying to remember how long the sentence was for trespassing.
"Xan!"
"What! Yes?"
"Not gonna tell William - "
"Spike, he's not going to believe you stepped out for smokes if
you're gone for five years!"
"Luv, it's not going to be anything like five years - just need
bail."
"I - " Xander's mind zipped to his bank account and the pathetic
two-digit balance. He felt sick. He felt useless. He felt the kind of pathetic
and helpless he hadn't felt since William was in the hospital. "I don't
have - "
"I do. Got some dosh stashed at Angel's and a friend of his has got the
key. Need you to get it for me."
"How much?"
Spike sighed. It was the kind of sigh that made Xander want to crawl through
the phone line and wrap Spike up in his arms and make it all better and it
didn't matter right then what Spike had done. "All of it."
"Tell me how to get it."
The address Spike gave Xander was across town, which meant Xander needed a car.
And he only knew one person with a car. At his previous jobs, asking his boss
if he could leave work in the middle of his shift would have been hard enough without
asking said boss if he could do it in her car, but fortunately Faith was
one in a million.
She handed over her keys with a few simple instructions: "Don't hurt the
car. Don't hurt yourself. And for fuck's sake, bring that asshole home. In
handcuffs if necessary."
"If you need to borrow a pair..." Buffy began.
"Hey! Inappropriate work image," Xander said, holding up his hand. He
considered for another second. "But I'll let you know."
By the time he’d picked the keys from a pair of dangerously hot guys named
Wesley and Gunn and had actually seen Angel's apartment, Xander was
giving real consideration to the bondage angle. Because, seriously? No one
should live like that.
Resisting the urge to actually clean, Xander made a beeline for the stash Spike
had told him about, then got back in the car and headed off to the police
station.
And why didn't police stations come with user manuals? On TV, the cops were
always saying things like 'you know the law' - and great, sure - Xander had a
pretty good idea of the things he shouldn't do if he wanted to stay on the side
of the law that didn't involve a jury of his peers deciding where he was gonna
spend the rest of his life - but he didn't know what to do about it when
someone stupid, someone like Spike, didn't.
As it turned out, standing at the reception desk looking awkward and lost was a
pretty good start.
"Hi. I'm Detective Lockley." Xander turned to find himself faced with
a police officer - the kind of police officer you were only supposed to see on
cop shows, all blond hair and blue eyes and she kinda reminded him of that
prosecutor on Law and Order and - thinking less, talking more.
"Xan - Alexander Harris."
"Can I help you find somebody?"
"I'm here to post bail for Sp - Ma - " And damn Spike anyway for not
telling him what name the police had! "Mr. Datchery."
"Blond English kid?"
Xander added relief to shock and lust in his 'things that make the Xand-man
weak in the knees' category. "That's him."
"Bail was set at one thousand."
For the first time, Xander found himself able to say the words 'I can pay a
thousand' - or he would if his throat hadn't closed completely. And thank god
for streamlined procedures and Detective Lockley leaving him to deal with the
cashier without completely humiliating himself. Money spoke. It said 'can you
please give me my boyfriend back so we can get out of here?'
By the time Xander looked up from the paperwork, there Spike stood. A little
frayed around the edges, but still Spike.
It was even weirder to see him than it had been to hear him on the phone. Same
genes, whole different presence. A presence that knocked Xander on his
proverbial ass. Left him dazed and confused. Bewitched, bothered, and
bewildered. Utterly torn between shaking some sense into the bastard and
kissing him senseless.
Either way, Xander decided it could wait until they were out of this place. So
could the serious conversation. Spike seemed to get that.
"Wes and Gunn gonna come for the poof?" he asked.
"If you mean Angel, yeah." Xander nodded. "They said they'd get
around to it."
Spike smirked.
Xander turned to the desk. "Are we all done here?"
When a nod confirmed that they were, Xander turned and headed for the door.
Spike followed, silent until they stepped outside.
"You came," Spike said.
"You left," Xander countered.
"Look, it was only - "
"I don't want to hear it. Do you have any idea what you've done to
Will?"
"I visit him almost every - "
"Fuck visiting. You know damn well that's not enough." They reached the
car and Xander unlocked the passenger door.
"Listen, I - "
Spike didn't get the chance to finish because Xander was pressing him up
against the side of the car and kissing him senseless. From the looks on both
their faces, the intensity of the kiss took both by surprise, but Xander
recovered first. "...that's not enough for me." Before either
one could fully consider that statement, Xander was speaking again and circling
to the driver's side. "You got anything at Angel's worth going back
for?"
Spike stared at Xander for a long moment, then slowly shook his head.
"Good," Xander said. "We're going home."
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