Reasons For Living

by
Narcolepticcat

16 Reasons for Living

The days passed.

The sun and moon pursued each other tirelessly in the sky over the Hellmouth.

Spike waited for Xander to speak to him. Xander roamed the apartment in daylight, roamed the streets in the night. Spike maintained watch over the fledgling vampire from a distance.

Not so much a fledge, is he then? Nah, more like a vampire who just got his strength after years of living weaker.

“Our story isn’t really the ‘once upon a time’ type of a thing. It’s sort of more the ‘multiple times on a mattress, on the floor’ type of a thing. Don’t doubt that, love. Don’t for a second.

“The problem with our little story is that it had no clear beginning. There was no certain jumping-off point. No teaser before the opening credits. It just wasn’t anything. An’ then it was. Like birth without conception or some other bollocks.

“Everyone’s always asking…”

Spike heard the door open and lifted the pen from his journal, closed the cover and turned toward the darkened room. He heard no heartbeat, no ragged breath. He heard only the sound of feet that moved sure and slow across the carpet.

“Xander?”

Xander emerged from the darkness with a small growl. The young vampire's silence withstood the better part of three weeks. When he spoke again, he had said only “no,” angry and small, and resorted again to silence. Xander’s eyes rummaged over Spike, and Spike shivered at the gaze as it searched over him. Spike really believed, almost knew, that soon his lover would be gone.

Xander disappeared into the shadows of the room and Spike heard the door to the bedroom shut and latch.

He eased his book open slowly and spoke aloud as he wrote, knew that Xander would be listening. Knew that even if Xander didn't listen, that at least he would hear.

“Everyone’s always asking: how did you come together? Why did you leave? I retreat into the bloody realm of ‘I don’t know.’ Maybe Xan does, but I don’t.

“Things I know: Xander is feeding, but he’s not killing. I made him a vampire and every moment since it happened I wish I hadn’t. He wanted to save the world as badly as I did, he wanted what has now become; but he hates me for making it so. I don’t blame him. I know that.

“I know that the world around us is twisted; dark and different than the world around people. Even the slayer has no concept of the difference between me an’ Xan and her an’ the Scoobs that are still around.

“I know that Buffy and Anya have forgiven me even if Xander hasn’t. I know that Giles calls ‘round all bleedin’ hours when Xan’s not here, just to make sure I’ve got some kind of leash on him; something to keep him from killing or going crazy or getting killed. I don’t know what he does every night. But I know that it keeps him returning to this bloody place not affectionately referred to as home.

“This isn’t home, love. You know it as well as I do. Home is boats. Home is sex on the tide and spots of violence ‘round every corner.

“Home is the things you’d never tell your Slayerette brethren about. You’d never tell them the things we did out in the world. I wouldn’t put them in this book to betray you, either. You know all this.”

Spike capped the pen, the journal still open on his lap. He continued to talk.

“Alexander the great I will not write these words; I would not betray you with a record of these days. I would say these words to you, or sing them as an alarm call to your heart. But your heart is something different. You are a beast or a demon or a god, but you are not of me anymore, however from me you may be. You are thought and wandering and odes to elegies. You are living and dying and unbreathing, and immortal as anything can ever be. Xander you are great and I want you back; I shun this thing I have made…”

The door to the bedroom flew off its hinges, smacked down onto the floor of the hall and Xander leapt on top of Spike on the sofa, stake in hand, and tore the journal from Spike’s lap.

“Don’t play stupid, or innocent. You are anything but those. Dammit, Spike you make me so mad. You make me fucking crazy.”

He pressed the stake into Spike’s chest, not far, not far at all, but hard and it burned Spike’s chest. Spike lay back, crushed beneath Xander’s body. The first touch they’d shared since the last night, since the first night of them together. Spike’s eyes locked on Xander’s.

“Spikey. Baby. I’m not any different. Don’t you understand? I am none of the things you just said. I’m all of the things you just said. I don’t know what I am anymore. I don’t know where I belong,” Xander said. “I wander around all night thinking, that’s right. I eat dead things. Or the blood of dead things. I’m immortal as you are and probably still slower and dumber. I wander around all night thinking, thinking, thinking about you and what you think. ‘I bloody stopped the bloody apocalypse ‘cos I turned me bloody mate into a bloody buggerin’ vampire. Gosh ‘m so clever; I’m a regular trickster, I am.’ Well, I fucking stopped the fucking apocalypse, too, you know. I laid my fucking veins on the line. All you had to do was bite me. Overcome some bullshit obstacles the powers that be threw in our way and fucking bite me. Well guess what. You did. I’m a vampire. The world keeps spinning.”

Xander leapt off Spike, strode to the window.

“But you know what I keep coming back to?” Xander turned back to Spike, waited. Spike shook his head, didn’t dare to speak or overstep his bounds. “I keep thinking for what? What kind of bullshit prophecy was this? Hallucinations of non-existent daughters. Earthquakes. Thinking I’m nineteen. You being human. It’s all too fucking ridiculous. It’s like, how many hoops can we jump through? And why do we always jump through them. I mean, we stop… we, you and I and we, the Scoobies… we stop every fucking apocalypse like ‘Oh, lookit me! I just saved the world. Glad I don’t have to do that again.’ But we always do have to do it again. There’s always another end of the world. It was bad enough in high school when dating Cordelia or cheating with Willow or pining for Buffy was the end of the world. Then you get into the real world and figure out that you never even left high school.”

Xander disappeared for a moment. Spike heard the kind of rummaging sounds that could only be hands in the pockets of the duster and Xander reappeared at the window as he lit the cigarette that hung from his lips. He tossed the pack and the lighter to Spike on the sofa.

“Go on. Smoke. If I need to; then you really do.” Xander faced out the window again.

“Bloody right.” Spike whispered as he lit his own cigarette.

“Don’t talk yet, William. Just don’t,” Xander said. “It’s like this. We came back because I love you. We came back because I know you love me. I promised myself seven years on the road, on the sea, in the
air, whatever. Seven travelling years with you. I promised myself that if I lived through that, that I would come home and die… one way or the other.”

Spike swallowed hard, choked on the tar and nicotine in his throat and began to cough. Xander flew to his side.

“Shhh, baby. Don’t be afraid. It was just a number. Let me ask you something, please, answer me. Okay?” Spike nodded. “When we were on the deck of that ship, when we could feel the Hellmouth even over the waters of the ocean, what were you thinking?”

Spike thought for a moment. “I couldn’t wait to make you. I couldn’t wait to taste you, for real. For ever.”

“I knew that. I know you felt that for longer than that last boat ride.”

Xander stroked Spike’s hair. The roots were growing long from the weeks in purgatory with Xander. They grew long from the weeks Spike spent in a hell of his own doing.

Xander kissed Spike’s temple. Moved away. Inhaled deeply on the cigarette, stared out the window.

“Spike, ask the next question. Ask the one you really want to know,” Xander said.

“Your soul,” Spike said, without hesitation, without thought.

Xander laughed. “I thought you’d say, ‘Wot about yor bloody soul, mate?’ I guess you’re a little more tongue tied than I thought.”

“Well, then what about your bloody soul? Mate,” Spike growled now.

Xander laughed again. “I guess it’s in here. I’m certainly not on the side of the big, slimy and nasty-ies… am I?”

“Remains to be seen, ‘s far as I’m concerned, pet,” Spike said. “The Slayer will put you down.”

“I’d really, really like to see her try. I mean that in the sense of ‘I’d love to go up against her with no holds barred,’ but, congruently, I know I’d lose. Totally.”

“Bugger right you would.” Spike laughed then.

Xander laughed with him for a moment.

“This isn’t reconciliation, Spike. Not yet.”

“I know, Xan. I know.”

“I don’t know what this is though. It’s sorta like, Romulus and Remus, or something.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t know. I sound like Andrew, don’t I?”

“Who’s Andrew?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Xander said. He smiled. “What are we gonna tell the guys? They’re really sad, I think. When I walk, I... Look in on them. It’s like, I know she can’t see me, but Buffy always sort of looks out the window and smiles. They miss me. Have they missed me for seven years?”

“Yeah, pet, they have.”

Xander stared out the window. The night around screamed. Every shadow teemed with Hellmouthy badness.

“You ready for the road again?” Xander said.

Spike longed to wrap his arms around Xander. “Yeah, but I though we weren’t reconciled?”

“We’re not,” Xander turned toward Spike, “but we will be. Don’t be a stupid git.”

“Oi. That’s mine.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m stealing it. I’m sort of borrowing it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Kind of like you borrowed Angel’s snoopy, sneakiness, yeah?”

Xander laughed. “That’s me snoopy-sneaky-vampy Xand-man. Is that going to be a problem? It will be dawn soon.”

“Yeah it will and if you go in it, I’ll bloody follow you out the door. An’ I don’t fancy dying when I just got you back. So we’ll just sit tight in the dark of the apartment ‘til the sun sets again.”

Xander, prone to laughter, giggled then. A smirk followed the giggle. Then a leer sauntered across Xander’s face. He shrugged.

“However will we two terribly evil vampires kill the time?”

“You’re joking right?”

“Yes. No. Maybe?” Xander said.

“I meant about the ‘evil.’ ‘M not evil and you know it.”

“C’mere, ya big lug,” Xander said, and Spike was in his arms in a moment. Xander kissed Spike. Spike kissed Xander. Generally speaking, kisses ensued. “But, bleached one, this, you know…" kiss, "I'm saying… We’re still not," kiss, "of the reconciled.”

“If this is fighting then,” kiss, “let it never end.”

Dark fell as it always does.

The sun settled down in its place below the horizon and Xander was at last as aware of its every waning moment as Spike.

The men rose from bed. Dressed. Left the apartment, bags in hand.

“So we’re going to say our goodbye’s this time?” Spike said. “Not just run off into the big bad world?”

“Yes, baby. That’s exactly what we’re doing. They should at least know we’re leaving this time. It’s the least I can do… God knows, we’ll be back here eventually.”

“Right, ‘cause we’re the new go-to boys for a bad case of the apocalypse.”

“Yep. A couple more and I’ll be caught up to Buffy. Hey, I wonder if they’ve got a line on where the next apocalypse might be popping up.”

“Well,” Spike said, “why don’t you ask and we’ll go see about it? Don’t want the slayer betterin’ my better half at nothing.”

“You said that right. Well, not grammatically, but it’s not the end of the world so who’s counting?”

“Right. So goodbye and then go?” Spike said, eyes on the street in front of him, afraid the answer might have changed.

“Didn’t we already establish that?” Xander said, laughed hard once and then reached out to find Spike’s immortal hand, wrapped his fingers around Spike’s, and held on with more strength than he had ever known.

17 Love is Stronger than Death

Three months later… “Hey, did you know that Lake Nicaragua is the only freshwater lake on the planet that has sharks?” Xander said. The road blurred by them in a long stream of Mexican cactus and dark desert flats. The car, a convertible antique BMW, was purchased in San Diego. The maps were purchased in Baja. The agenda hinged on the revelation that an Apocalypse was coming somewhere south of the Equator in an ancient Incan city.

“So, that’s it?” Buffy said. Puffy cheeks and all. “I love you baby.” Willow said. Puffier cheeks and shaky. “Well, I do wish you’d reconsider. Or let Buffy go with you. We could get by for a few months, I believe.” Giles said. Stuffy, buttoned up, British cheeks and all. “Bastards. Mean, evil, nasty bastards.” Anya said. “Be fucking careful for once you total and complete dumbasses. Jesus.” Puffy cheeks, screechy voice, shaky hands and all. “I should have taken D’hoffryn up on the whole vengeance thing. I think he’s been waiting for this since he killed Hallie. Mean bastard. That’s what you get for being a big, man, vengeance demon. Bastards. All you men and your penises. Bastards.” “I’ll keep a candle in the window. But don’t tell Doug, he’ll think there’s another man in my life.” Dawn said. Tears, but rosy cheeks and hugs. The boys hugged and kissed each of their friends and strode out the door. Willow and Dawn hugged each other, Giles butted in and finally cried once the door closed. Anya crossed her arms, “hmmph”-ed, and ran out the back door; cried as the cool night air hit her face. Buffy followed them out. “You two…” she said. They stopped, turned, listened. “Are about the stupidest, most arrogant, cock-of-the-walk vampires I have ever met. After, well, the Master and Darla and Spike version 1.0, which is somewhat different from - what are you now, like version 6.0? But anyway…” she paused, hung up on the words. “Glad you’re on my team.” Xander spoke, “Always was.” “I know.” They hugged, again. He headed down the sidewalk to the street. Spike and Buffy stared at each other. Spike said, “Sides. Pet, what sides? A circle has no sides," he smirked, "And it’s version 4.0. How old do you think I bloody am?” And they were gone.

“La cucaracha, la cucaracha ba-da-da da-da-dum. La cucaracha, la cuca…” “Xan, love, a moment of silence, if you’d be so kind.” Spike said. “I love Meh-hee-co.” Xander said. “Well, you’re not a yappin’ Chihuahua, or a bottle of nummy tequila, and I’m not in a bloody sombrero, last time I checked, so I’d really appreciate it if you’d shut up. Love.” “You didn’t hear the thing about the lake, did you? You don’t pay any attention to me. I guess I’ll have to bite you, or give you road head or something, so you’ll love me,” Xander said, as a faux pout spread across his lips. “I love you, all-bloody-right. But I’m don’t care about sharks in lakes… Does it say what kind of sharks?” Xander looked down. “Uhm…” Xander shook his head. “Did you say road head?” “Uhm…” Xander smiled, the night was young, the road was long and Xander was thirsty. “You want to go fishing, pet? Well, I got your bait right here.” Spike laughed as Xander’s hand slid up his thigh, opened his pants and plunged inside like they might never feel Spike’s hardness again.

The End

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