Survival Instincts
by
Savoy Truffle
Part Thirty-Three
“He wasn’t a bad guy, you know.”
“Huh?” Xander closes the door behind himself and tosses a puzzled look over to Spike, lounging on the bed.
“Oh, what? Now you’re the only one who can start in the middle of a conversation and use a lot of vague pronouns?”
“Huh?” Xander doesn’t understand what Spike is going on about, but he does know that he wants to be cuddled, so takes off his jacket and toes off his shoes and climbs onto the bed next to Spike and Spike pulls him close like a good boyfriend.
“Here’s the thing,” Spike is saying softly, next to Xander’s ear. “Can’t really process early in the morning, but things sort of queue up. Like a fax machine.”
“Fax machine?” Xander doesn’t want to think anymore. He’s tired. Less of the talking, more of cuddling and petting, please.
“Yeah, you know. How they can be in the middle of printing a fax or even be turned off and a new fax comes in and the machine just holds it until the other fax is done or it’s on? And then it prints it.”
“When did you ever use a fax machine?”
“There are things about my life you don’t know, Xander.”
“Things involving the sending and receiving of faxes?”
“You’re missing the point, luv.”
“And what was that again?” Xander asks, really trying to listen this time, because obviously Spike is going to have to make this point before he’ll turn his full attention to the petting and cuddling Xander.
“That he wasn’t a bad guy, this old Sunnydale Xander that you’re so determined not to be again.”
“How can you say that? You, of all people, who never took me seriously back then? Who wanted nothing to do with me unless it was to take advantage of me or to amuse yourself by mocking me?”
There’s no sting in Xander’s words, just genuine curiosity and the old insecurity that Spike knows doesn’t belong to the Xander he loves.
“First off, the mocking was mutual. And you were far too good at it, really, so I could hardly have been expected not to fight back. And second, I did take you seriously.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You remember when I was collaborating with ADAM?”
“Yeah, those were great times. I really sensed your respect for me then.”
Hearing Xander fall back on sarcasm as his defense mechanism makes Spike cringe, but he presses on.
“Just listen to me, Xander. I did respect you then—as a threat. I tried just as hard to separate you from the group as I did anyone else. Why would I have wasted my time if I didn’t know you played an important role? If I hadn’t known how much the others needed you?”
“For entertainment?” Xander quips.
“Damn it, Xander, that’s not funny.” Spike lifts himself up on one elbow so that he can look down at Xander, pinning Xander with the force of his gaze. “I told you I’d leave with you and I will. Tonight, if you want. But not until you understand something.”
Xander waits.
“The boy you were in Sunnydale may have gotten knocked around a lot and he may have been taken for granted some of the time and underestimated probably most of the time, but he was good and brave and strong—on the inside, where it really counts. And I saw that boy again months ago in the man who jumped into the middle of a fight he wasn’t going to win just to help someone he didn’t even know. And I saw that boy again in the man who bled himself to feed an old enemy and then took that enemy into his home and into his life. And I saw that boy two weeks ago in the man who drove me straight to the last place in the world he wanted to go just because he couldn’t stand to see me hurting. And I still see that boy every day in the man I fell in love with.”
And what do you say to a speech like that? “Um… wow. I never… I just… um… wow.” Nothing coherent, apparently. But Spike doesn’t seem to mind.
“Alright then. Now if you still want to go, let’s pack.”
But Xander doesn’t move to get off the bed.
“I just… If being that boy was so great, why did it feel so bad? And why does it hurt so much to be here again?”
“Maybe you didn’t really change when you left Sunnydale. Maybe you just changed the way you felt about yourself.”
And how did Spike get to be so wise anyway? And so good with the words. Xander tries to put his own thoughts in shareable order.
“So what if we stay? And what if I just go back to being, to feeling like the faithful sidekick again?”
“We don’t have to stay. But no one’s asking you to be the sidekick. Wood wants you around to fix things, because you’re really good at that. And Giles wants someone he can trust to send out on missions. But if anything, he’d consider me your sidekick.”
“You think? And what would you say about us?”
“I’d say we were partners…. With benefits,” Spike adds with a leer, that’s kinda sweet in a way leers shouldn’t be able to be.
“Mmm, benefits are good…”
“And the Bit, she just wants a big brother. And Willow wants a friend.”
“And Buffy?”
“Buffy needs a friend. Speak of the devil…”
“What? What devil?”
“Buffy. She’s here.” Spike smiles at Xander’s confusion and then they both hear the urgent knocking and Spike gets up to open the door while Xander mutters under his breath about “creepy vampire senses.”
As soon as the door is opened, Buffy rushes past Spike into the room, slowing only once she spots Xander on the bed, sees for herself that she’s not too late. She takes a deep breath.
“I don’t want you to leave, Xander.”
Xander lifts himself so he’s sitting up against the headboard. “Buff, I—”
“I want you to be happy, but I want you to be happy here. I want us to be friends again. The kind of friends that see each other three or four times a week across the table at a coffee shop and talk about everyday things like the funny show on TV last night and how cute the barista is. Not the kind that talk on the phone once a month and wrack their brains for events worthy of a long distance call but end up talking about the weather. And I want to run into you in the hall at the academy and pick you and Spike up from the airport and take you shopping with me because you really seem to be dressing better these days and everybody knows that a girl’s supposed to shop with her gay best friend—it’s the in thing.”
“Buff, you don’t—”
“And I realize that you have a life back in California that you’d be giving up a lot. And I know that it’s going to be hard and kinda awkward for a little while. But don’t you think maybe…”
“It’s worth a try,” Xander says.
And there goes all the momentum of Buffy’s prepared speech and she just stands there for a second and stares, looking like she might smile or might burst into tears or maybe both.
“It is?” she asks instead. “You really think you might be able to be happy here?”
“Yeah.” Xander slides off the bed and walks toward Buffy.
“And if you figure it out, do you think maybe you could teach me how?”
Xander pulls Buffy into his arms and holds tight. “I think I can do that.”
And Buffy is definitely crying now, and maybe Xander, too, but there are no tears in Spike’s eyes—no there aren’t—because he knew it would work out all along. Never doubted it for a second, so pay no attention to that glistening.
After a minute or so of silent hugging, Xander lifts his head. “Hey, don’t tell Willow and Dawn I was about to do another runner, okay?”
Buffy sniffles and wipes at her eyes. “Don’t tell them I was about to let you.”
“Deal.” Xander looks over Buffy’s shoulder and smiles. “Spike?”
“Don’t worry about me, luv. My silence can be bought.”
And if Buffy could see the wicked heat in the look exchanged over her shoulder, she’d be blushing to the not-so-blond roots of her hair.
“Think we could work out a long term installment plan?” Xander asks. “Very long term?”
Spike smiles and curls his tongue over his teeth. “I’m thinking that could definitely be arranged.”
Part Thirty-Four
California, two weeks later…
“Spike?”
“Over here, luv,” Spike calls from his perch on the kitchen counter of Xander’s old apartment. “How’d it go?”
“Not bad.” Xander walks into the kitchen and moves to stand between Spike’s knees.
“What’d you tell’em?”
“The truth,” Xander says before treating Spike to a long, slow kiss.
“Mmmm,” Spike says as Xander pulls back. “That you prefer fighting the forces of evil with your formerly-evil, always-sexy, undead lover to being chained to a desk?”
“That I needed to move closer to my family right now to help them deal with some issues.” Xander glances around Spike’s shoulder at the eerily empty space. “How’re the movers?”
“Very efficient and unanimously hot. You do that on purpose?”
“Well, I did find their ad in the queer weekly paper.” Xander shrugs. “And the ad might have mentioned that they wouldn’t be too hard on the eyes…”
“Taking a page from Wood’s book then, are you?”
Xander pauses to consider the comparison and shivers. “Oh god, I am. Now I feel sort of dirty.”
Spike smirks. “Yes, well I’ve had a lovely afternoon. Ta ever so.”
“I just can’t believe that they do all the work for you. Packing, loading, driving.” Xander takes his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out the shiny new Council credit card that’s making it all possible. “I’m thinking I could get used to being a corporate whore.”
“What’s that make me then? A corporate whore’s whore?”
“No, not whore,” Xander says, his expression serious. Then he tilts his head and smirks. “More like… a corporate whore’s wife.”
Spike shoves at Xander’s chest but without real force. “Not yer bloody wife, git.”
“Guess it’s partner, then,” Xander says, ducking forward to kiss Spike lightly on the lips.
“Partner,” Spike repeats, plucking the card from Xander’s fingers. “Y’know, I think the car was sounding a bit dodgy on our drive over here. There’s a nice little Mercedes dealer down the street…”
“And that, dear partner, is why Giles put the corporate card in my name.” Xander plucks the card back and returns it to his wallet.
“You’re no fun, luv,” Spike pouts.
Xander leers and slides his hands up under Spike’s shirt. “That’s not what you said last night, luv…”
Spike manages a rather bland look of mild curiosity. “Didn’t I? Can’t imagine what got into me.”
“Hmm,” Xander purrs in Spike’s ear, “well if it’s anything like what got into me last night, I’m thinking it was long and thick and har—”
The sound of a clearing throat cuts Xander short.
“Excuse me, Mr. Harris,” one of movers says, not bothering to conceal a grin. “I just need you to sign a few papers…”
Xander pulls his hands out from beneath Spike’s shirt, steps out from between Spike’s legs and walks over to take the clipboard from the—yes, very attractive, as advertised—man’s hand. As he’s skimming and signing forms, another very attractive (and shirtless) mover passes on his way to the door carrying a medium-sized box.
“This is the stereo,” he tells the first mover. “Kyle and Rico are grabbing the TV and then there’re just a few boxes left in the bedroom.”
The first mover nods and the shirtless mover resumes walking…
“Wait!” Xander says. “That’s the stereo there? Speakers, wires and everything?”
The shirtless mover nods twice.
“Actually, you can set that here on the counter,” Xander says. “We’re not taking it with us.”
“’Kay.” The shirtless mover sets the box down and ambles back toward the bedroom.
Spike reaches out for Xander’s arm and angles it so that he can read Xander’s watch. “His photography class should be getting out in about twenty minutes,” Spike says.
Xander looks at the box on the counter. “I guess…. Maybe I’ll…. Do you think… Of course, the movers…”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake! I’ll see the movers off.” Spike makes shooing motion with one hand. “Go on, you silly wanker, before you miss him.”
Xander is standing across the hall from the classroom door, the stereo box on the floor beside him, when the students start to trickle out. Jamie emerges flanked by a couple of friends, talking and laughing. Both his laughter and his movement stop when he sees Xander.
Their eyes hold for a couple of seconds and Xander looks away first, feeling like an idiot for not having called first. But then he hears Jamie sending his friends away and sees Jamie’s feet approach. Xander looks up to meet Jamie’s gaze again, smiles awkwardly and then points over to the box.
“I, um… brought you the stereo.”
“You’re back,” Jamie says.
Xander nods, then rethinks and shakes his head. “Actually, not really. Leaving again later tonight.”
Jamie frowns. “How’s Spike?”
For a moment, Xander’s not sure how to answer, wonders if the question means Jamie suspects that he’s with Spike now and if Jamie’s mad.
“His head, I mean. The headaches. Did they fix them?”
“Oh!” Xander starts breathing again. “Yes, it’s all fixed. No more headaches. Ever.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
Hands are shoved in pockets, weight and gazes are shifted, awkward nodding occurs.
“So you’re leaving?” Jamie asks after a bit.
“Yeah, um, we’re moving to Cleveland.”
“You and Spike?” And that is a knowing tone.
Xander nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says, answering both the spoken and unspoken questions.
More shifting, more nodding.
“So, um, got time for a cup of coffee before you go?” Jamie asks, looking at his feet as if they, too, are invited.
Xander looks at Jamie until Jamie lifts his head. Xander smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“…So there we are in this dark little shop in this tiny town outside of Baton Rouge and I can hardly understand a word these people are saying, but they’re about to hand us the book, so I figure we’re communicating okay. But then suddenly these two women come out of the back, except that they’re not really women, they’re demons, and their bodies start to do this freaky change thing, but then Spike goes all grrr and is like, ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you’ and then…” Xander stops mid-story and tilts his head. “What? You’re looking at me funny.”
“It’s nothing.” Jamie smiles from across the table. “It’s just, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk this much before…”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s nice. It’s like you’re…”
“What?”
Jamie considers. “Happy.”
Now it’s Xander’s turn to consider. He does, then nods.
“So, you and Spike, huh?”
Xander frowns and tries to explain. “It’s not like we were… while you and I were… I mean, we weren’t… and then we just were. We just… are.”
And Xander’s about to try to come up with an explanation involving actual descriptions when Jamie nods and says: “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay,” Jamie repeats. He looks down at his watch. “And shit, I actually really hate to say this, but I kinda have to go. I have this thing in, like, an hour.”
“A thing thing?”
Jamie shrugs. “Just dinner and a movie with this guy.”
“A guy guy?”
Jamie laughs. “Yes, a thing thing with a guy guy. Otherwise known as a date.”
“Guess you’d better get going then.” Xander reaches for the check. “I’ve got this.”
Jamie scoffs. “Well, duh. I mean…” He points to Xander. “Corporate whore…” He points to himself. “Starving art student. It’s only right. But it sucks that you’re leaving tonight. I’d like to catch up more.”
“Me too,” Xander says, “but the forces of evil wait for no man. Plus, the bed’s already packed into a truck and on the road to Cleveland by now. But maybe I can call you sometime?”
Jamie smacks Xander on the shoulder for the question in his tone. “Maybe you’d better. And Spike, too. Oh, and tell him that he’d better keep practicing on Halo 3 because the next time you guys come to visit, I’m totally gonna kick his ass.”
The next time you guys come to visit. Xander smiles at that, because there will be a next visit—many visits, in fact. Of this he has no doubt. “I’ll let him know.”
Xander offers Jamie a ride home, but it turns out Jamie’s new place is just around the block, so they hug and kiss, and then Xander gets in the car and heads back to the apartment. He finds Spike outside with a cigarette. Despite all the anti-smoking campaigns of his youth, Xander thinks Spike looks sexy as hell as he tilts his head back slightly and slowly pushes the smoke past his lips.
“Good?” Spike asks.
“Good,” Xander says, unable to resist moving in for a quick kiss that ends up lasting a bit longer than planned.
“Ready?” Spike asks after, dropping the cigarette that’s burned down to the filter and crushing it under his boot.
Xander pulls the keys from his pocket and tosses them from one hand to the other as he takes one last look up at the window of the apartment. Then he looks at Spike.
“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go home.”
The End
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