Three Inches by
Part One
“God, Spike. I thought Xander was slow but you are
even… “ Xander flinches slightly but only Spike sees it. “Yes, I did get that. Willooow.” He drags out her name
in mockery. “But I want to know why!” He yells a bit too loudly. “Because… because he is their father?” Xander chips in
and “Anyway, interesting bloke this father is… nothing in
mind but shagging the … DUCK!” Spike shoves The next moment the two boys are on the ground in a
tangle of limbs, Spike’s elbows on either side of Xander’s head and his hips
resting between Xander’s spread thighs, Xander’s arms around his waist. Brown eyes stare up into midnight blue ones which are
twinkling with mischievous laughter. “Eeep?” “Wish I had time right now pet.” Spike grins, gives
Xander a loud wet peck on the forehead and is back up on his feet in the next
moment. He launches himself into the fight against… erm… around ten fledglings
with a joyous yell. Xander just stares after him. What the hell just happened? He looks over to Spike who fights against seven
fledglings at once. They are teaming up in pairs now, systematically attacking
him from at least two different sides and the Master vampire struggles to keep
them at bay. Another vamp falls to dust but with him also goes
Spike’s current stake. When the blond grabs for another tucked in the waistband
of his jeans in the small of his back, he exposes his chest and one of the vamp
gets a kick in that makes Spike double over, going down on his knees screaming
like a wounded animal. “Wills, it’s a trap, they only want Spike. Fuck, run!”
He calls to her and shoves her away. “And what are you going to do?” She cries out, tears
making her eyes glisten like a dark green lake in the midday sun. “I…” Xander’s
subconciousness, his white knight, fights against the flight instinct,
encourages Xander to help his injured … comrade. His heart starts to pound even faster, his hands
getting sweaty as always when he knows he is close to making a right, but
pretty dumb decision. “I’ll help him.” He says gravely and takes a step in
Spike’s direction but “Wait!” She screams and her eyes lose focus before
they fade to black. The previously inviting green sea after sunset, suddenly
dangerous and bottomless. Spike’s scream of frustrated rage makes Xander shudder
down to his bones or maybe it’s There is a loud slapping sound and what can only be
categorized as a whoosh, the flash of golden light and then… eerie silence. Xander turns around expecting to see the blond vamp, smirking and lightning a cigarette in an after battle habit, but there is no Spike. Xander kneels down and grabs for the clothes, duster,
jeans, t-shirt, button-up shirt, boots… everything’s there but no Spike. The loss he feels is unexpected but it feels kinda
right. Spike was their … comrade, fighting on their side even if his motives
weren’t from the depth of his soul.. erm.., weren’t to do good just because it
was good to do good but… anyway. “Scoobies got you in the end, hm?” He whispers to the
dust on the satin shirt. “But I never thought it would be “Oh god… Xander… I didn’t mean to! I was just trying
to … I really didn’t want this to happen… I mean…” “It’s … Wills, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
But you won’t get my absolution for what you did. He thinks grumpily. “I just wanted them to explode, not… him! Xaaander…” “I want to go home.” The brunette says and stands up,
taking all the clothes with him. Half an hour and listening to several redundant excuses
later, he is in his basement. The packed duffel bag waits against the bed, as
it has for days now, tomorrow night he would – finally - sleep in his own first
apartment. He lays Spike’s clothes down on the recliner he used
to tie the vamp to when he was newly chipped. Heavily he slumps down on the
edge of the bed, staring at said recliner, remembering how Spike bitched about
it… “Bloody hell!” Huh? Xander shoots straight up the bed, frantically
looking around to find out where the voice came from. “Spike?” He whispers and in his head he mocks himself…
I can hear dusted vampires. “The last time I checked I would have said yes but right
now I’m not so sure, mate.” He hears the tiny voice again, so low but
unmistakeably Spike. “Here whelp, on the bloody bondage chair!” Xander jerks
around, staring at the chair in horror. “Oh my god!” Xander squeals and gets down on all fours,
crawling over to the chair. “What the bloody hell happened?” Spike yells, a high
pitched, desperate tone in his voice. “I… oh god… Spike… damn, you’re cute!” Xander grins and
then realizing what he said he blushes a pretty dark shade of red. “No, I am not cute! I am …” “About three inches tall.” Xander says in awe. Spike groans in despair, drags the edge of the duster’s
collar tighter around himself in an attempt to either hide or protect his tiny
frame. “… tell me I’m dreaming Harris… please, I beg of you!” Part Two Slumped
in defeat, shivering from shock, if that is possible for a vampire, Spike sits
and looks up at Xander, as if the boy had all the answers to his questions.
Xander is still staring at the little Vamp in awe. “Wow.”
He says at last. “You’re not dead.” “Wish
I were though. Well, technically I am, but final death would be better than
this.” He shrugs his tiny shoulders in a helpless gesture. The boy feels a
sudden pang in his heart at Spike’s admission. It sounded so honest and he doesn’t
doubt the vamp means it. “Come
on…” Biting his tongue, he catches himself just before letting a casual insult
slip from his lips. “Spike. It’s only for a while.” He frowns inwardly at his
white knight, who encourages him to say something reassuring. “Erm… I bet “Red
did this?” Spike fakes surprise, little scarred eyebrow cocked. “She
just wanted to…” “The
hell she just! You and I, we both know there is something coming up on the
horizon of her future and it’s not the bloody sun.” He spits, and Xander can’t
help but nod. Yeah, “Be
a mate and give me something to cover up?” Spike interrupts his way of thinking
and Xander nods, getting to his feet. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get you something… erm…
a handkerchief?” Xander holds up the clean but wrinkled piece of white fabric. “Anything
will do right now.” Spike murmurs uninterestedly and takes it from the large,
slightly unsteady hand that holds it out for him. He struggles with the
handkerchief, which for him is as big as a 7 by 7 feet blanket. Xander looks
away from the expression on Spike’s face. Big bad is near tears. Finally
Spike is tucked into it safely. “Better?” Xander asks and flinches, waiting for
the snarky answer. To his surprise Spike’s only reply is “Yes.” Spike
turns away, he doesn’t want to see the look of pity in the youth’s eyes. On
Spike’s back there is a large red stain; blood is seeping through the
handkerchief. “You’re
injured, Spike.” Xander states, voice hoarse, from seeing the red stain
spreading further. “’S
nothing.” Spike shivers and it’s the last straw for Xander, he has to do
something. This indifferent, tame Spike makes his skin crawl. It doesn’t feel
right. “I
don’t think so.” He says, and lowers his hand down to the chair directly in
front of the three inch Spike. “You up for a lift to the kitchen?” He says, and
grins at the frowning blond. “Come on Spike, get on my hand. I won’t let you
fall. I promise.” Words uttered without thought but they both get the honest
meaning behind them. This is Xander helping and comforting Spike. And it feels
good – to both of them. Spike
still looks suspicious, but nevertheless, climbs on the big calloused hand. “OH!”
Spike exclaims and Xander looks down at the blond. He looks like he took a spin
in the tumbler, the hair tousled and his skin smeared with dust, the wrinkled
white handkerchief now with red stains on his side where the blood has already
made its way around, but over all that now: A look of pure bliss on Spike’s
face. “What
‘Oh’?” Xander asks, smiling because Spike is. He lifts his hand up, carefully
cupping it around his tiny weight, using his other hand to make it even safer
for Spike. “This
is – bloody hell – like a big, pulsing electric blanket! All warm and soft
and…” He stops himself, ashamed by his poncy eruption about a warm hand. The
youth holding the small vampire in his hand, chuckles a bit, making Spike
bounce up and down on his palm, against his efforts to keep his hands still.
“It’s okay, Spike. I’m glad that not everything of this state you are in is
bad.” And where did that come from? “I think we’d better get some blood in you,
so you can heal before you get blood stains on your … electric blanket.” Slowly
Xander makes his way over to the kitchen. “Hope you don’t get travel sick.”
Xander jokes and Spike laughs for the first time, despite the spell and his
injury. “I won’t puke on you, you git!” He replies and looks up into Xander’s
concentrated face, the tip of the youth’s tongue poking out through his lips. “So,
here we are.” Xander says finally and lets the back of his hand rest on the
counter so Spike can climb down, which he does, even if he only reluctantly
leaves the surrounding warmth. Xander gets out a very sharp, pointy knife and a
blood bag, lays both on the counter while he searches for a cup on the shelf.
Fascinated, Spike stares at the blood bag, nearly as high as he is himself.
Xander sets the cup down besides Spike, comparing their height and finding the
vampire isn’t even able to look over the rim without effort. “Erm…” “Can
I pour the blood into a bowl and swim in it?” Spike asks, eyes as big as… well
saucers his size. “Erm…” “Always
wanted to swim in blood!” Spike says dreamily. “Spike…
it’s pig’s blood.” The blond’s face contorts into a mask of distaste. “Ah yes.
Right. Never dreamed of swimming in pig’s blood.” The hopeless expression slips
back into his eyes and Xander takes the knife. “Tell
you what Spike… you only need a tiny amount of blood. Only a droplet or two and
the bag is way too big and it would all go to waste and … ouch.” Spike jerks
around just in time to see Xander put the knife back on the counter and then
his nose is filled with the smell of fresh human blood. Involuntarily, Spike
moans. Xander
holds out his ring finger, a tiny droplet of blood welling up from where he
pierced himself with the pointy knife tip. “I swear you are drooling.” He says
smiling and looks how Spike slowly comes forward. “You won't pull back, will
you? You’re not teasing, right? It’s all for me?” Tiny blue eyes look up,
surprise, mistrust and want mirrored clearly. Xander
wants to point out that he wouldn't go to all this trouble, just to tease the
bleached blond, wants to joke how Spike would burst before he himself would
even feel dizzy from blood loss. But he doesn't. "You
want me to … pour it into … something?" Spike looks up, slightly bouncy
from excitement, despite his injury, game face to the fore that just looks cute
now it's all so small and not frightening at all. Of course, Xander wouldn't
say that out loud.. Thoughtfully – a look that really doesn't go with the game face
– little Spike nods and looks around searchingly. Finally Xander produces a
spoon from one of the drawers and puts it down on the counter top. He lets the
two big droplets of blood drip onto it before sticking the finger in his own
mouth and isn't that just kinda strange? Spike, in the meantime, is on his
knees, his hands cupped, he dips them into the ruby fluid and up to his mouth
where he greedily slurps it up. Xander
watches the tiny figure closely, the look of pure bliss on the blood-smeared
face, blood-smeared hands and arms up to the elbows, blood stains that are not
getting bigger anymore on the make-shift tunic. Eventually, when the spoon is
all shiny again, Spike staggers to his feet, swaying as if drunk and looks up
at Xander, eyes content, like a summer sky blue. "Ta, m…" Mate,
Xander guesses Spike wanted to say but lets out a quick burp instead that makes
the youth chuckle and Spike smiles nearly … shyly? "Would
give a virgin for a hot long soak in a tub." Spike sighs sleepily and
Xander frowns just for a second before he raids the cupboards again, getting
out a small oval lasagne dish, the rim about an inch high. "You
think this'll do?" Xander asks holding it out for Spike's inspection. The
blond’s eyes light up. "Sure, yes that would be…" Just in time he
catches himself again from showing a bit too much enthusiasm than would be good
for his big bad reputation. "…good." Without
another word, Xander turns on the water and waits for it to warm, testing it
with the inside of his elbow for the right temperature, then filling the dish.
He sets it down and grabs the two empty packs of cornflakes, sets them up so
Spike will be shielded from any curious looks, giving the little big bad a bit
of privacy. Spike
has watched what Xander's doing with half narrowed eyes, not sure what
surprises Xander has for him next. To show he cares for the not-so-big-bad is
enough for Xander Harris, passionate vampire hater, in one day and it already
confuses the hell out of Spike's brain. While he thinks about the unexpected
changes in the boy, staring at the make-shift bath tub, he hasn't even realized
that Xander has gone to the bathroom and came back with a bar of soap and a dry
washcloth as a towel substitute. "Think this'll do best," Xander says
and sets the soap down beside the lasagne dish. "You can take as much as
you like from it and we don't risk you choking on bubbles." The 'we'
Xander used rings loud in both their ears and Spike nods curtly once, before he
disappears behind the cornflake packets. Seconds later, the splatter of water
and a deep contented sigh can be heard. Xander grins to himself. Twenty
minutes later, Xander has set up the highest drawer of his bedside cupboard as
a make-shift-crypt for Spike with the help of a small dark blue towel and
several handkerchiefs, partly folded as pillows, some as blankets. He also made
himself ready for bed, slipping on a comfortable t-shirt and boxers. He finds
Spike, tucked into the washcloth, sitting on the edge of the counter, legs
hanging down, staring down at the floor with a far away expression on his face.
To Xander he looks like someone about to commit suicide, sitting on the edge of
a high building, getting up the courage to jump. "Will
it kill you?" He asks carefully, so as not to startle the vamp, even
though he must have heard Xander like a human hears an elephant storming
towards him. "Don't
think so." Comes the mumbled reply. "But it'll hurt a lot."
Spike chuckles. "Was waiting for you to give me a lift." He says,
cocking his eyebrow in a suggestive manner, to lessen the effect of him needing
to ask for help. "Well,
come on then. Time for good little vamps to go to bed!" Xander jokes and
regrets it as soon as he hears Spike growl. "You
know I didn't mean it like that!" He relents. "It's just a saying. I
was not making fun of you." No, Xander really wasn't. He would never make
fun of someone for something they are not responsible for. He knows how much
that hurts, hearing others joke about something you aren't able to change. Like
your drunken parents. Or your clothes, when you don't have money for new ones. Spike
has already climbed onto his hand again, so he makes his way over to the bed,
setting the vamp gently down in the drawer. Spike wonders again what happened
to the Harris he knew, when he takes in the nearly lovingly set up sleeping arrangements. "I'll
push the drawer nearly closed, so you can feel…" safe, he wanted to say
but instead continues. "…on your own. If you need anything, wake me."
I'm just here, beside you. He clamps his mouth shut and tells his white knight
to shut up too, Spike is not the damsel in distress; he is a shrunken vamp for
god's sake! He climbs in the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders,
turns his back to Spike. Some
seconds later: "Harris?" "Mhm." "Thanks…
mate. I… I am in your debt." "Night
Spike." "Yes,
right." Part Three Barely four
hours later Spike wakes, with a start. Scared, he presses himself deeper into
his covers and into a corner of the unfamiliar room. He finds himself naked,
which isn’t unusual for him when in bed, but he can’t see his duster and the
white blankets remind him of the initiative. He clamps his mouth shut to stop
himself from screaming, holds his hands over his ears to block out the penetrating
rattling above him. When the
alarm clock starts to let out its furious cry, Xander can’t believe it. He
feels as if he hasn’t slept at all. Groaning, Xander turns over and grabs the
angry clock which is rattling and jumping all over the surface of the bedside
cupboard, vibrating from the loud ringing sound emitting from it. Eventually
he turns it off. Blessed
silence. The
old-fashioned alarm clock is the loudest Xander could find, as he always has
problems waking up in the morning after the late night patrols. Not everybody
has slayer or vampire constitution. Vampire! He sits
upright suddenly in the bed, looking at the nearly closed drawer. God. Spike! Carefully,
he knocks on the drawer. “Spike? It’s Xander. Are you okay? I forgot to tell
you about my alarm clock. Sorry.” There is no answer but Xander doubts Spike is
still asleep after the alarm went off. He must be scared. “I’ll open
the drawer now. Alright?” Again there is no answer so Xander just pulls the
drawer slowly open. The room
around Spike starts to move, the ceiling sliding back slowly, the wood making a
gnashing sound that makes him shudder. “Hey Spike,
it’s Xander.” The youth says again, voice low and gentle. And when Spike sees
the oversized finger tip, his memory of the last night comes crashing back to
him. Brown caring eyes look at the tiny figure intently and Spike groans in
despair. “It wasn’t
a dream, was it?” Sadly,
Xander shakes his head, indicating that this is the reality, that Spike really
was the victim of a bad spell that made him 3 inches tall. “You okay
as far as…” Spike nods and slumps back down, hugging the handkerchiefs around
him. “I’ll go
shower, back in a few. I still have to go to work.” With that Xander goes into
the bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving the vamp alone in his
misery. For just a moment Spike considers his possible day time activities in
this …state he is in. No. He wouldn’t stay here, couldn’t be alone. Who knows what
may happen to him if the witch or the watcher’d come to get him? He looks at
one of his white blankets thoughtfully then rips into the fabric. Under the
shower Xander considers what to do with Spike. He dreads to take the vamp with
him to his work but also he can’t leave him here on his own. Wills has a key to
his apartment and if she came by and found MiniSpike she could be tempted to
try all kinds of stuff to… oh god, does he really think that badly of good old
Wills? Sadly, he
has to admit to himself that yes, he does and that Spike is right with his
assumption that something is coming and it won’t be the nice kind of coming for
sure. In the end,
he eventually says to himself, Spike can still decide for himself. We’ll see
what he says. Out of the
shower and dressed, back in his bed-/living-room/kitchen, still rubbing at his
hair with a yellow towel to dry it, he stops short. Spike stands on the bedside
table, a handkerchief around him like… “Are you
going for Arabic rich man or religious sacrifice?” Spike’s lips quirk up. “Usually I
am the one doing the sacrificing and I don’t have the turban, do I?” Xander goes
over and takes one of the little torn off pieces of fabric. “Hm… could make you
one! Just look over there and tilt your head…” “Oh no
mate! Not the hair! Never the hair!” Spike yells in mock-shocked voice. “Thought
Deadboy was the one oh-so-sensible about the sticky things on his head.” “Comes with
the … “ Heritage. Spike nearly says, but stops himself just in time. “… poofiness.”
He concludes lamely. “Yeah,
right.” Xander frowns, thinking about his job again and what Spike will think
of him after he knows what Xander does. Not that Xander cares about Spike’s
opinion about his life or job or whatever. And whether it’s just because Spike
is the only non-oestrogen laden …person in Xander’s proximity. Well, there
is Giles but Xander doubts Giles has room for oestrogen or testosterone when he
is saturated by all his British stuffiness and his staid watcher-esque behaviour
and Ripper really isn’t friend-material. "Xander?
Is there any chance you could…um, what I mean is, I don't want to be…"
Spike takes a deep breath and tries again. "Would you allow me to
accompany you on your lengthy, but necessary, sojourn to the place of your
employ, thus enabling me to make use of such facilities, as may be needed,
without being placed in the ignominious position of having to ask for.." Spike
trails off when he sees the look of shock on the youth’s face. “Wot?” “You did
this thing…” “Thing?” “Called me
by my name.” “So?” “And I
didn’t understand one word of what you said.” “Erm…I was
asking if you..” “Shit.. I
am late for work!” He suddenly exclaims after he takes a look at the alarm
clock just behind Spike. “Harris, I
need you to…” “Spike…”
Xander searches through Spike’s duster until he finds what he searches for: the
pack of cigarettes. “You really
think now is the moment to start smoking?” “HUH?”
Xander takes out the cigarettes and stuffs them back in the duster pocket, he
lays the pack down besides Spike and then gets Spike’s clothes together in
another duffel bag, grabs them and slings them around his shoulders onto his back.
He hurries to make a quick clean up of the bathroom and living room/kitchen
area and then stands before Spike. “Get into the pack.” “Are you
kidding?” Wide, blue eyes stare in utter disbelief at Xander. “I am not
coming back here and I have to take you with me and I don’t want to crush you,
so you have to get into the pack that offers at least some protection and I’ll
put it into my shirt pocket.” Xander indicates his chest, just over his heart. “You’ll
take me with you?” “If you get
into that pack in the next three seconds: yes. Otherwise: no.” “Bossy
git!” Spike hisses and climbs into the pack, which Xander takes and puts, as
promised, in his chest pocket. “Ready?” The youth asks, when Spike pushes open
the lid of the cig pack so he can see where they are going. “Yep. Off
we go.” And Spike grins, then shuts the lid again to keep himself safe from the
rays of the barely rising sun. “Not so stupid this boy.” He murmurs to himself,
before he settles down on the bottom of the pack and lets himself be lulled to
sleep by the boy’s movements and his slightly faster than usual, but regular,
heartbeat. Xander is
scared and excited at the same time, none of the scoobies know about his job or
that he’s going to move. It’s not that Xander wouldn’t tell them. They just
didn’t show any interest and he is still disappointed in them. At least Wills
could have asked once in a while how he is doing. They are too stressed by
their own life. College and all. He understands. Really. It just… well yes,
kinda hurts. The bleached
blond may find it kinda comfortable right now but as soon as he is restored to
his old self he’ll be back to his bad ass attitude and Xander can already hear
the snarky comments and the mocking laughter. Whatever. Doesn’t mean a thing to
him. And his white knight insists on helping the Minivamp… just can’t help it. The journey
to work takes him about half an hour. It’s near the docks but not quite in the
docks district. Close to the city’s core but not quite in the center. As usual,
he stops for a second before he enters the big grey building, strains his ears
for unusual voices or signs of a fight, he looks up to the emergency bulb and
finds it not lit up, meaning everything should be alright. So he steps inside. “You stink
of vampire, toyboy. Got yourself turned have you?” Broum has him by the throat,
nearly lifting him off his feet, his back to the door. Spike is awakened
quickly by the suddenly increasing heartbeat. It pounds like it wants to beat
its way out of Xander’s chest and the boy reeks of shock and confusion, and
just a bit of fear. “Let me go,
I have not been turned! I came from out there!” Xander indicates the sidewalk,
on which, the sun shines down with all the power of her early morning rays. Fuck,
Xander knows, has always known there was something off about Broum and his wife
Garld, suspected they were demons of some kind, even if their appearance – two
middle-aged average people – gives nothing away. “So what,
you did the nasty with one of that bunch?” Broum frowns at him. “Didn’t
think you were that…” “What, so
dumb as to do that? I didn’t.” Xander shoots back, on defensive mode. “Actually I
was going for ‘Didn’t think you were that audacious’.” “Oh.” Garld
chooses that moment to appear from the back of the shop, grinning widely until
she comes closer to him and also smells ‘vampire’ on him. “Oh boy,
what did you get yourself into this time?” She asks concerned and Xander has to
chuckle. These two are the parents he always wanted to have. “Well since
I now know that you know… I have to erm… you know I am friends with the
slayer?” Broum and
Garld start to laugh, then Garld tugs at his arm, whispering. “Of course we
know that. We are informed about your life.” She says and sniffs at him again.
“Soooo, you wanna tell us why you reek like a vampire? An old one nonetheless?”
She smiles warmly. “Erm…”
Xander makes a gesture as if writing something down and Broum nods, and goes
over to his desk, getting notepad and pencil. Xander takes it, writes down a
few sentences and gives it back. Broum takes it and reads it, clamps his hand
over his mouth so as not to laugh out loud. Garld takes the notepad from him
and reads it too. Her eyes dance with laughter, but she contains it better than
her husband and makes an encouraging gesture. “Well, I
have a vampire with me, “We don’t
know her but we know about her.” Garld says with a frown. “Well, she
did a spell and it went wrong. A … friend, the vampire, his size was decreased
down to about three inches.” “And where
is he now?” Garld asks, getting this curious where-is-the-cutie-look. Uh oh. “Erm here.”
Xander points to his pocket and then looks around, searching for a place away
from the eyes of potential customers and without direct sunlight. “Can we use
your office?” Xander asks Garld and she nods, turning and going there, the two
men hot on her heels. Garld sits down on her chair and Broum takes the one in
front of her desk. Xander
turns away from them, getting the pack out and opening the lid. Alarmed, the
vampire stares at the youth in full gameface. “Spike,” Xander says, taking a
deep breath before continuing. "… we're at my work place. My boss and his
wife want to see you. They're demons too…" He trails off when he hears the
low snickers from Broum and Garld. "Can't
say I like it. But don't have a choice, do I?" Spike murmured, displeased. "Okay
then." Xander says and turns around to the desk. He carefully sets the
pack of …Spike *snicker* down and the vamp climbs out elegantly. "Name's
Spike." He says and tries to be as cocky as always, as nonchalant and cool
as he appears when he is in his normal size. Broum takes in a ragged breath and
hisses "William the Bloody" under his breath. Garld just
squeals as foreseen… "God, aren't you the littlest cutie?" Part Four The male
occupants of the room groan in unison.
"But
he is cute… and little… isn't he?" Garld asks and looks from one to the
other with a frown. Then, suddenly, she remembers something and pulls open a
drawer and gets out… Dawn.
Xander's
frantic head shaking doesn't even make her reconsider it. Spike growls, more
out of confusion than anything else, when Garld presents Dawn to him.
"You
have a doll looking like Dawn?" Spike exclaims, irritated.
"Yes!
And oh my god. She fits perfectly doesn't she? Just the right size, don't you
think?"
Spike looks
at the doll more closely. "She is a bit too tall." He eventually says
uncomfortably, subtly trying to look taller than he was.
"Oh
wait I have to get the other ones!"
Spike's
eyes widen. "The other ones?"
Xander's
hands come up to hide his face. "Oh god."
Spike turns
sharply. "You, whelp, will tell me immediately what is going on
here!" He says, with an authority one wouldn't think he still possesses.
Garld comes
back and then Spike is as speechless as Xander.
"How…
I mean… I just.. and..so fast!" Xander trails off, stunned by the accuracy
of the figures.
Broum just
chuckles and relaxes back into his chair, determined to watch the scene going
on.
"You're
not doing some obscure voodoo shit are you?" Spike growls redundantly,
because he already knows there is no chance of danger from these two. M'reit
demons just aren't any danger as long you don't come between them and their
children. And Spike hasn't seen any children, so he considers Xander and
himself safe.
Garld
laughs. "No voodoo. William." She smiles at him and holds up the doll
of the watcher. "You think I've got him right?"
"Name's
Spike!" Spike snarls, vehemently, then cocks his head, taking in the doll.
"He is a bit fatter around the middle." He says, smirking and makes a
step towards the doll, grabbing its waistband. "Are these anatomically
correct?"
"Oh
no!" Garld pulls the doll back out of Spike's reach.
"No
they aren't or no I am not allowed to check?" Spike quirks.
"There
is no need for you to check it, even if you did, it's not like you could
compare and really…" Xander trails off when Spike just looks at him, an
eyebrow cocked, lips in an amused smile.
"God,
tell me you haven't seen Giles' … delicate bits!" Xander cries, holding
his hands a few inches away from his ears so he can clamp them down and block
out everything Spike might say next.
"I was
chained to his bath tub, wasn't I? Haven't seen a second bathroom in old Rupe's
flat." Spike bites his own lip when he revises the sentences he just said.
Damn, had he really admitted to being chained to a watcher's bath tub?
Broum takes
in a hissing breath. "Can't help saying it, but these 'friends' of yours,
toyboy, sure have dubious methods." He says, an angry tone underlying his
words.
"I..
he.. we.. it was for his own good." Xander stutters, feeling weirdly
embarrassed under the disapproving stare of his boss. Spike snorts and Garld
tries to chase away the uncomfortable tension between the men by showing off the
other dolls.
"Here
is
"That's
for making me.. little!" He kicks it again, then: "Can we have a
pyre? It's not like it’s the real witch, but it’d sure be great to see her
burn." He grins evilly, eyes sparkling and Xander feels oddly amused by
the words, even though he knows he should feel repulsed by the idea.
It's kinda
like when your kid learns their first bad word and yells it out loud in a
family meeting – everybody laughs and even though you know you should really
talk to it and tell it why it's wrong to say something like that, you can
hardly suppress the smile when you do.
Garld pulls
out a Buffy mini, a little Anya doll, even Cordelia in smaller than life size and
Spike just stares and you can practically see the drool forming, with one
wicked idea chasing after another.
"Wow,
Garld – these are so great, thank you so much." Xander finally manages to
say, taking the Cordelia doll in his hand and stroking back the long dark brown
hair, tracing the plastic face with a soft smile that makes Spike want to puke.
"So,
Lady, where is mine? Maybe I can use the clothes and get out of the white – it
makes me sick-er." Spike looks expectantly at Garld, whose gaze darts to
Xander and then to her husband.
Xander
feels ill suddenly – he'd never thought about Spike when he asked Garld to
build the dolls for him as gifts for the Scoobies for Christmas. He'd given her
photos and descriptions, even a newspaper article with a photo of Cordelia,
slime drenched with the headline: Sewer system of
Never had
the thought of giving Spike a gift come into his head, there where no pics or
anything of Spike when he sorted through the material he could maybe use, so he
didn't contemplate the vamp for one second. He swallows hard.
"Erm.."
The telephone
on the counter in the store rings and Broum stands up, gives Xander a strange
look, as if he's figuring out something new and unpleasant about the youth,
then he drawls: "Well, toyboy, looks like you’ll have to find a new
present for Spike here, looks like the surprise is spoiled." Broum leaves the
room with a pointed glance to his wife, satisfied by the deep flush on Xander's
face.
"Oh!
William – " she giggles. "I mean, Spike – I just finished
Cordelia last night and wanted to start with your mini-version.." she
frowns then smiles apologetically. "With your plastic-mini-version today.
I am glad you're here – now you can help me with everything and you won't be
too bored whilst Xander and Broum do their stuff."
Spike
smiles at her – he'd get clothes his size and he'll even chose them, get them handmade
exactly like he wants them to be, so it doesn't matter.
Doesn't
matter if the whelp hadn't ordered a doll of him. Would be creepy even to see
himself in plastic. Yes. Glad, the whelp didn't attempt that. Big Bad is
unique. And as long as there – who was he kidding – it did twinge a bit but he
had to admit, Harris and himself, they weren't on the best terms and all he'd
give Harris for Christmas was a new improved, especially deep piercing, insult.
But at least he'd have thought about the whelp, he'd have been creative and
would have invested time and that has to count for something – doesn't it? He
looks up and glares at Xander.
"TOYBOY!"
The deep baritone voice has Xander up and moving in less than a second, or
maybe it is more that Xander finally has a reason to leave Spike, who has
forced him into an unexpected conscious
analysis with the accusing look he has given him.
As soon as
Spike is alone with Garld, his shoulders slump and he looks up sadly into the
warm grey eyes of the woman that, like many others, doesn't look at all like
you'd imagine a demon.
"Sssh,
William. Give him time, he's learning." She whispers and cups her hand
around Spike's small back. Spike lets himself lean into the touch and sighs
when warmth envelops him.
"What
do you say, let me measure you and lets decide on some fabric and then you can
go to sleep while I sew your new clothes together, agreed?" She reaches in
one of the drawers under the desk, grabs the tape measure and shoves the
half-finished plastic mini-figure of a darker, broader man to the back, as far
as it goes, hoping Spike hasn't noticed the movement.
Upon seeing
the tape measure, Spike leers at Garld, suggestively raising eyebrows and
biting his lower lip. "How do you want me, baby?"
Garld
laughs, her eyes twinkling. "I want you in the best clothes you can get
around here." She says, and makes a gesture for him to get out of the pieces
of handkerchief he has folded, not without some talent, and knotted around
himself as a makeshift toga.
She does
flinch, when she takes in his naked form and Spike grins at her, not in the
least embarrassed about his unclothed state, sure of his looks and effect on
women.
Garld
however flinches because of what she can see are the signs of malnourishment,
there are still bruises and scratches on the mini-vamp’s body, which can only
be from the fight Xander wrote down about earlier, which was the cause of the
shrinking. The skin seems a bit too white and too thin and the bones are better
defined than the muscles on the tiny vamp's body.
"I am
sure we can get you some blood around here which you can have before you go to
sleep. You must be hungry." Spike looks at her, not really expecting that
as an reaction to his body and for the first time in a while he glances down
and *really* looks at himself, taking in his rib cage, his drawn-in belly and
outstanding hip bones, knobbly knees. Oh.
"Blood'd
be good. The fight.., was injured.., must have been more injured than I
thought. Lost a lot of blood an' all." He says, trying to justify his
appearance and Garld nods curtly.
"Good,
then let's get this over with fast so you can get some blood. Wouldn't do any good
to draw this out longer than necessary."
Xander
stands in the door jamb, watching Garld and Spike, who are unaware of him. They
are pretty involved in their measuring, Spike actually giggles when Garld
tickles him with her fingernails accidentally, or more often now, on purpose.
He just wants to tell Spike that he has to make some deliveries and will be
gone until noon, just so the vamp knows, but now he doesn't want to disturb the
easy companionship and good mood the two are in, so he turns away and leaves
without saying anything. He grabs the boxes from the counter and does not meet
Broum's curious gaze before leaving the shop.
Somehow
this all went wrong and he wants the old Spike back, the one that's not
vulnerable and who's snarky and annoying and strong and confident and who
doesn't need help from him, isn't dependent on him, 'cause really – this is too
much responsibility and he’s already managed to piss off Broum and to shift out
of Garld's attention span.
He climbs
into the delivery van and turns the key in the ignition, shudders when
Maybe if he
brings back some lunch, they'll be okay with him again. Part Five
It’s 1 pm when Xander arrives back at the shop. In the back of the van sits a big old-fashioned sideboard which he collected from a customer who wants it restored to its original state. He takes the bag with the Chinese food he bought on the way and goes inside Broum’s shop. “Hey, I‘m back and I brought lunch with me!” Xander calls out to Broum who sits behind the selling counter, sorting through papers. The demon looks up and smiles at Xander. “Oh, great. I’m starving – I could eat a human.” He says. Xander stops short, suddenly unsure whether it’s a joke or not. Broum just starts laughing. “No worries, toyboy. We don’t eat humans. M’reit demons aren’t a dangerous species.” Xander blushes. “Sure, knew that, would’ve never thought you were and…” He stumbles and feels stupid again. He knows that Broum and Garld aren’t dangerous, aren’t demons who would be on Buffy’s slaying agenda… well, wouldn’t be at the top of Buffy’s slaying agenda. He sighs inwardly. Why does it get so complicated now? Colliding loyalties and all. Garld comes out of her office, almost noiselessly she pulls the door shut behind her. “Oh nice, Xander, is that Chinese I can smell?” She grins and grabs for the bag in Xander’s hand. Xander laughs and lets her have it. “Yeah, Chinese. Thought we could eat together, if you want and… “ He stumbles and looks down. Garld narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t be silly, boy, course we want!” She sends a hard look at Broum who in turn rolls his eyes at her. “Gotta sit down and talk, toyboy.” Xander shrugs helplessly. “’K.” Garld starts unpacking the bag, little white Chinese food boxes quickly take up most of the space on the small office table. They sit down and each of them grabs what he likes and starts eating. Xander seems miles away, nobody talks and the silence is uneasy. They often eat together and talk about business or personal matters, not that personal like demon heritage or so, but... Garld kicks Broum under the table. “Ow!” He scowls at her. She shows her fairly human looking teeth and he gives in. “Toyboy... Xander, we gotta talk about a few things. About demons and death and slayers and the good side and bad side of being a slayer or demon hunter and...” Garld sighs and rolls her eyes. Broum pauses and looks at her, irritated. “What?!” “You’re getting it all wrong! He’s done nothing wrong!” Garld reaches over and puts her hand on Xander’s. The human has sunk down on his chair as far as possible and looks thoroughly miserable. “Look, Xander, you’ve done nothing wrong in the past. But your past is past and you asked for a chance to prove yourself here. You meant by your work. And you do magnificent work. But Broum and I, we want you to, well, think about your views of life, your values.” “Ah hem.” Slowly Xander nods. “We thought you knew that we are demons. You didn’t, did you?” “I... no... I didn’t think about your origins at all. You’ve been just normal people to me. My boss and his wife.” “And now, Xander, what are we now? Not normal people anymore? Demons?” Garld’s voice stays warm and friendly but her eyes show her concern. “I... don’t know. You’re demons but you’re good to me, you care about me more than... a lot of people I know and everything, but the last few years with the slayer, we fought demons, still fight demons and mostly don’t have the time to ask if they’re good or bad or whatever. I can’t just... I can’t just throw everything overboard and be a new person overnight...” “We understand, Xander, we do understand. It’s hard for you but since you brought William with you, we see that you’ve already started to differentiate between demons. That’s great.” Garld smiles at Xander who shyly smiles back. “And about William... what are you going to do now?” “I keep him, of course!” Xander says eyes wide. Broum starts laughing and Garld soon follows. “Course you keep him, toyboy. We want to know what you wanna do so he becomes his old size again.” “Oh, oh, right. I, erm, I wanted to settle in tonight and talk with Spike. About the circumstances and everything. I wanted to ask Willow, if she can make Spike big again, but I’m not so sure about her. Maybe Giles could help but I can’t imagine a reason why he should help Spike at all. Maybe Spike knows someone who could help...” Garld and Broum listen and nod to Xander’s suggestions. When he stops talking, Broum says: “That sounds okay so far. I know some people and I will ask around a bit, too. I’ll tell you if there is any news.” “Thank you. Thank you both. For the help and the clothes for him and everything.” “You’re welcome, Xander. It’s all right.” Garld smiles at Xander. They rest of the meal goes by in the easy companionship they shared before. After they finish, Xander puts the empty boxes in the trash, the boxes with leftovers in the fridge. “I’ll go and look after Spike now. Call me when you need me.” “Sure, toyboy. Don’t forget your work over the cute little blondie!” Broum yells after him and starts laughing. Garld slaps her husband on his arm, but starts laughing too, when Xander turns around and looks at them horrified: “Cute little blondie?!” *** To see Spike sleep, cuddled into what might have been Garld’s sewing basket on a shelf, half under a piece of drapery, affectionately put there to protect him from the midday sun which was just a warm glow behind the heavy blinds at the window, makes Xander’s heart ache but produces a tingling feeling in his belly. Once again he thinks about how close Spike came to ‘really dead death’ and finds himself again feeling happy about Spike still being here. “Spike?” He calls out to the sleeping vampire who is awake instantly. Three-Inch-Spike sits up and stares at the gigantic Xander with wide eyes. This time recognition sets in almost without hesitation. No frightened panic this time, just ocean-deep disappointment. Encouragingly, Xander smiles at Spike but the blond just rolls his eyes at the youth. “So, through with work? Ready to go home to the basement of doom?” “No and no and furthermore: won’t go there ever again!” Spike is stunned for a moment, then: “What do you mean? You’re not going there again? We’re not going there again? I’m not going, well getting carried, there again?” Ah, back to the panic. Great, Spike. Grinning, Xander sits down on Garld’s stool and is now pretty much eye-to-eye with Spike in the sewing basket on the shelf. “I moved out.” “Oh what! That’s great! Wait, on second thought: You idiot!” Spike springs to his feet and starts to pace in the basket. Xander thinks he would look just like the old Spike if there wasn’t the screaming yellow nightgownish-y thing Spike wears and of course his size. “How could you! I mean where are we gonna stay! Can anyone be sooo stupid?! Give up a roof over the head and...” There is a lot of more cussing from Spike and Xander gets a little sad but otherwise... he never shared his plans with anybody. The last person coming to mind there is Spike and all. He watches Spike ruffling through his hair until it stands up in all directions. “Shut up, you... chick. I’ve got an apartment. Here. Right over your head.” Spike lifts his head and looks at the shelf above the one his basket stands on. “Well, a bit further above your head. Second floor of the building. Apartment. Two rooms, plus bathroom and kitchen.” Spike looks back at Xander with an expression somewhere between curiosity and doubt. “Well, that’s great then. Smart boy. Thought of everything, didn’t you. At least about getting a new apartment before giving up the old one. Really smart.” “Yeah, yeah. Stop it Spike! I didn’t take your brain black-out from two minutes ago seriously. See... you’ve got a way smaller brain now and...” Xander stops suddenly, regretting instantly what he just said, that he reminded Spike of his size, because Spike is watching him with golden eyes and full vamp mask on. “Hey... sorry, I didn’t mean it... I just...” “Did you just call me chick???” Spike growls. Xander, who pretends to be frightened by the enraged vampire, stutters: “I.. didn’t mean chick as in girl... I meant because of your yellow skirt—ehm shirt-y-ish thing and your hair... it’s all fluffy... baby-chicken?” “You’re soooo going to pay for that!” Spike growls and jumps out of the basket, he stops short on the edge of the, for him, five-floors high shelf. “Later!” He says grimly, not completely covering the sadness in his voice. |