Part 9
After the party, Xander expected the concerned look from Willow, or a
sternly worded lecture from Giles. It never happened. Willow never said ‘I
want to talk’; Giles never took him aside and recommended he read ancient
texts on the dangers of vampiric lovers. He knew they knew. It wasn’t
overnight but gradually the names Xander and Spike became ‘Xander and
Spike.’ They started calling Xander’s apartment, instead of checking
Spike’s crypt when he wasn’t at the shop. Spike hadn’t taken Buffy’s place.
There was still a gapping hole in their lives. Not one of them didn’t
occasionally look around expecting to see her there; and realize all over
again that she never would be. Spike still grieved, they all did, Xander
wished he had the words to tell him know how much Spike staying and keeping
his promise to Buffy meant to them, meant to him. Not much changed; Dawn
became more Dawnlike, Willow and Tara started a new summer schedule of
classes, Spike still laughed at him.
‘Oh like sex was going to stop that, snort. Now I snorting like him, next
it’ll be smoking and bad fake accents, I so know that’s a fake accent. Not
that he doesn’t have an accent, and a damn sexy one, ’cause I heard it in
but it’s not the one he uses every day. No, it comes out to play with the
moans and the purrs and the whim. The everyday one hangs with the snorts and
the snickers and the “nice to see your embracing the lifestyle, pet.” I dye
laundry pink once and I’m branded for life. To think that when it happened I
thought I was lucky it had only been a load of socks and underwear. I
forgot who sees my underwear. Accident my ass, lurking around the Hellmouth
laundromats and throwing demonic red items in with unsuspecting loads of
whites is probably in of that ‘101 evil acts you can still perform while
chipped’ book he’s writing.’
Xander took off his tee shirt and wiped his face with it. It didn’t help;
it was soaked. Summer had hit Sunnydale hard and the basement of the magic
shop was hot and stuffy. Xander had spent all morning building a new
storage unit and was now organizing the eclectic stock. Spike had joined
him about an hour ago, and while his tee shirt was dusty, it wasn’t mar by
sweat. ‘And yet another advantage to no body temperature.’ Xander draped his
wet shirt over the banister of the stairs leading up to the shop, and
started to sort though a new box. He didn’t know how long he had been
staring at the button eyes of the floppy bunny that had so scared Anya That
Night, when he felt Spike’s arms slip around his waist. His whipcord body
felt firm and sure, and Xander leaned back, knowing Spike was more than
strong enough to support him.
He hadn’t talked to anyone about Anya, not really, other than a reflexive
‘I’m fine, really’ to Willows frequent offers to talk about how he was
feeling. He wondered if he could talk to Spike, if he should, what was the
relationship etiquette involving this. He had never been to sharp on major
do’s and don’ts in the conventional boy/girl relationships, let alone this,
whatever this was. Where did the line between friend and lover blur? Would
it be uncaring and insensitive to talk to Spike now? He desperately did not
want to hurt him, God knew they had all had enough pain. Maybe he should say
nothing. But if he did, wouldn’t that be just as cruel, not letting Spike
know what he felt, especially now that Spike had, at least Xander hoped he
had, a vested interest in what was in his heart? Xander didn’t have a clue,
but at least he thought, ‘I’m smart enough to know how clueless I am. That’s
a start isn’t it?’
“What magical properties does that have, Pet.” Spike’s voice was low and
suggested inopportune sex with the possible discovery by Giles, or oh no
Willow, eep Dawn.
“It scares the bejesus out of vengeance demons.” He gave the toy a menacing
wag, and felt Spike smile against the side of his neck. “You wouldn’t happen
to know how this got here, would you?” ‘Oh yeah, you are so busted’
“Might.” Spike’s hands slid back until they rested on Xander’s hips. “Might
have hid it for that girl of yours. She had a fine scream, and it’s not like
it would set off the chip.” Spike’s tone had hushed when he spoke of Anya,
like you would talk to an animal to keep it calm.”
“She didn’t scream, not really, but she was scared, she thought it was an
omen.” Xander picked at the rabbit’s fur; it was amazingly soft, the kind of
toy you got for really little kid so that they couldn’t hurt themselves.
“She was sure it meant that the world was going to end.”
“But it didn’t.” Spike pointed out.
“Yes it did.” Xander dropped the toy and turned to face Spike. “We’re just
to stupid to give up.” Xander softened his words with a kiss, much like that
first one they had shared, and then he continued, “That’s why we’re
rebuilding it.”
He pulled away and took Spike’s hands in his and looked down. He thought he
was probably making the worst decision of his life but something told him he
had to open this wound. He just prayed that opening it with Spike was going
to help it heal, not add salt.
“I...I ask her to marry me.” It was hard, but the Spike’s silence compelled
him to look up, to meet his eyes.
“What did she say?” He used the real accent, the one that spoke the truest
words, the one that matched the wide eyed concern, and let Xander know he
hadn’t ruined everything by mentioning ‘his girl.’ Because Spike never
called her Anya, always ‘your girl’ or ‘the demon girl’ and come to think of
Spike never mentioned her at all now that she was gone.
“She said yes, and no. She was anger and scared and frustrated.’ Xander
looked away, he couldn’t help but laugh when he thought of it, so he did. “I
asked her That Night. I carried the damn ring around for weeks, and I
picked that night to ask her. Can you imagine it?”
Spike wasn’t laughing. He pulled Xander close and wrapped him in his arms.
It took very little maneuvering before they were sitting on the wooden
steps. Xander sat one step below Spike and leaned back into his embrace.
“The thing is ...I understand why she left ...I just.” Xander pull away
again and twisted until he could look Spike in the eyes. “It the how that
hurts so much...Spike we were friends. Beyond the orgasms and interlocking
parts.... I thought we were friends. I was her first friend...but I thought
even after everything else, we were still friends.” Xander waited and
watched Spike. He looked for some sign that Spike didn’t want to hear this,
or a word that said he did. Instead those riveting blue eyes never broke
contact and strong fingers reached up to gently stroke his face.
“Is it stupid of me to want a letter, or a call? Just Xander I’m okay, I’m
happy, the world outside the Hellmouth is fine. I can live without the ‘wish
you were here’ but this not knowing. It’s bad. If I knew she had her center
of power, then at least she could...” Xander was stopped by a blatant eye
roll, and bit his lip thinking he’d said too much.
“Luv, are you listening to yourself? You do remember that when she had the
bloody trinket she worked for the other side.” Spike lean in for a kiss,
which took the stink out of his trademark sarcasm.
“You mean your side.” Xander murmured into the kiss and nipped at Spike’s
lower lip.
“Oy” Spike pulled back and tried to scowl, lost it and laughed. “Only you
love, only you.”
“Only me what?” Xander asked ‘did he call me luv or love?’
“Only you would feel the need to take care of a chit who spent over a
millennium finding creative ways to make men’s heads explode.” Spike said
and gave one quick pull, and had Xander sitting on his lap.
“Hey, a little sympathy for the fellow demon.” Xander whispered as he
lowered his head so that he could nibble Spike’s earlobe, and continued more
seriously, “Can you imagine eleven hundred years, never feeling pain, never
being sick, anytime you have a problem you wave you center of power and poof
it’s gone. Then one-day bam, bad hair days, zits, P. M. S. indigestion and
your trapped in this flesh sack that you can feel dieing around you. And on
top of that she had all of her memories every case year by year, God know
she recounted most of them to me during prom. She didn’t even have the
luxury of denial, she knew the worst of what was out there, hell she had
been the worst and now she was trapped here on the Hellmouth.” Xander had
pulled back to look Spike in the eye while he spoke. ‘Hell even I know
talking about you ex while making out just wrong. So why is he still petting
me, why doesn’t he say something?’ “I’m sorry you don’t need to hear this.”
“I need to hear whatever you need to stay.” Spike’s hands were busy, but
they had stayed above Xander’s waste. They had been together long enough
that Xander had figured out that hands below the waist meant shag now, well
duh, but that hands above the waist meant your tired; your stressed; your
empty; your sad; come let me fix it.
“You want to hear a story.” Xander peeked up though his lashes and the
overlong locks of his hair, which really did need to be cut.
Spike snorted, then tilted his head to look past the hair and tucked Xander
against him. Spike rested his chin on top of Xander’s head and said, “Yes
Luv, tell me a story.”
“Not so very long ago, on the Hellmouth, there was a school. It was a very
scary place filled with Math and History and teachers, some of whom were
really giant preying mantises. Vampires occasionally came to that place to
bash people in the head with science equipment. Children were imprisoned
there and only the lucky ones were aloud to leave after enduring the torture
for twelve years.
Time went by and an evil man decided that he needed a final evil act to
culminate his ascension to greater demonhood. He decide that the most evil
thing he could do would be to wait for the day the children were scheduled
to be released from the horrible prison and destroy not only their lives,
but their hope of freedom. The children decided to fight back.
Shortly before the day of release, a boy saw a girl crying in the courtyard.
Other students walked past rushing to class. No one seemed to see the
girl. The bell rang, and still the girl cried. Now the boy knew the girl had
been laid off of a job of which she had been very fond, and he knew that she
was an eleven hundred year old girl and that she knew the evil man was not
going to let the children leave the horrible school. He thought that either
of these were very good reasons to cry, but when he saw her cry his heart
hurt. Being rather fond of his heart he thought he should do something to
make her stop crying. So he walked over to her and asked “Why are you
crying?” And she showed him, on her finger was a tiny cut. She had turned
the page of a book too quickly and the book had bitten her. The tears that
streamed down her face weren’t angry tears for the power she no longer had.
The tears weren’t frightened tears because she knew the time was approaching
for the evil man to come. The tears were the tears of a child. A child hurt
for the very first time, who can’t conceive that there is an end to pain or
that it will get better. Because all that the girl knew was the now, and the
now hurt.
And at that moment, the boy realized how alone the girl was. It wasn’t just
that she had no friends, and had no family. She was trapped in a bubble of
‘me’. Her whole world was so new and so strange that she couldn’t understand
anything but herself, and because of that no one could understand her. At
that moment the boy decided that he would try and understand her, that he
would be her friend.”
Xander sighed and added “I really tried to be a good friend.”
“What did you do about her paper cut?” Spike asked absently.
“Bought her a soda from the vending machine and told her to hold the can
against it.” Xander squirmed on Spikes lap so that he could see him. “I
never told the others about that, for a long time they thought it was just
sex, but ...but she needed me, and it was good.... to be needed.”
“I need you.” Spike said in a very serious tone.
“You do? What do you need me to do?” Xander ask in an equally grave voice.
“Move some more,” Spike whispered using blunt teeth to trace the line of
Xander’s jaw. Xander tilted his head back to give Spike better access to
his neck. He felt Spike’s face morph while it pressed softly against his
skin and the blunt teach were replaced by bladelike sharpness tracing the
pulse points with a feather soft touch. Xander squirmed again; torn between
desperately wanting more contact and his finely honed survival instincts
that still on occasion backhanded his cerebral cortex and ask ‘what the hell
do you think your doing.’
Spikes fingers moved up to tease around, but never touching Xander’s
nipples. Blindly Xander grab Spikes hand and placed in on the fabric of his
cargo pants that covered his rising erection.
The door opened and Tara stood at the top of the stairs. She blinked, she
blushed, she looked at her feet. Willow’s voice came from behind her.
“What?
Giles said he was down ....” Willow blushed. She looked at Tara. They both
grinned. Tara said, “I don’t think he wants sushi.” Willow shut the door.
Xander blushed and looked down, then he looked at Spike, laughed and pulled
him close for at kiss. “Your one of a kind pet.” Spike picked him up, ‘and
can you say disconcerting,’ and moved him out of sight of the door near the
old shelves. He set Xander down to stand by a sturdy harvest table Xander
had used earlier to brace the planks he had cut for the shelves. Spike
reach into a basket on the top of the shelf and pulled out a tube of lube.
“You are so busted.” Xander started to turn towards him, but Spike place
both of Xander’s hands firmly on the table, and removed his own shirt.
“Now, now, you have a suspicious nature. I just had that there for an
emergency.” Spike purred and place the tube on the table. He kicked off his
boots. ‘And just when did he untie those?’ The he dropped his jeans and
stepped out of them.
“What kind of an emergency?” Xander’s had trouble following the conversation
since Spike was busy; his hands were unzipping his cargo pants and pulling
back on Xander’s hips and his foot was nudging Xander’s feet into a wider
stance.
“This kind of an emergence.” Xander felt the air replace fabric from his
mid-thighs up, and the light soft kiss Spike placed on the spot where his
neck met his spine. Soft kisses trailed down the veribra, each bump was
worshiped as Spike slowly sank to his knees. By the time Spike’s mouth
reached Xander’s tailbone Spike was softly caressing Xander’s inner thighs
with light sweeping strokes which started almost at the knees and stopped
just shy of his balls. Xander felt his whole body tremble and Spike hadn’t
even reached for the lube. He bucked forward wildly when Spike’s tongue
penetrated him. If not for Spike’s strong sure grip he would have hurt him
on the table. The table and Spike’s hold on him were the only thing keeping
him standing as stars exploded behind his eye lids. When he was sure he
couldn’t take any more without loosing complete use of every muscle in his
body for days, Spike stood up and turned him around.
“That was the most amazing thing...” Xander whispered.
“Like that do you?” Spike grinned, and softly kissed him.
“Hell yeah!” Xander looked at the table, and the tube Spike had been so
obvious in placing there. Not that this wasn’t good but why...? “Spike?
What’s the lube for?”
Spike climbed on the table, lifted his knees, and said, “Thought you might want
to use it.”
Part 10
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