Part 12
The office had been crowed enough when it had only held Spike and Angel and
their Watchers. Now it also had to accommodate Xander and his witches and
Angel's other two minions. The witches shared a chair, easily fitting side
by side with their tiny frames. Cordelia sat on Angel's new minion's lap and
paid far too much attention to Xander as he spread out blueprints of a
parking garage on Giles' desk. Whatever the witches had done to the office
made it resonate like a cavernous space. It was eerily silent. As soon as
the door had shut, all sound coming from outside had ceased. Even with his
vampiric hearing Spike couldn't hear the ringing phone, the complaint-rock
blaring out of the boom box or the general hubbub of all the humans milling
around the store. Other than the sound of Xander paging through sheets on a
clipboard and the shifting of too many people in too small a space, there
was nothing. Spike unobtrusively maneuvered to stand immediately behind
Xander - not so much watching over his shoulder as blocking the view of his
ass from Angel's Watcher.
Spike suffered a fleeting moment of panic when Red said she hadn't been able
to reach the nibblet. It was instantly quelled when the witches assured them
they could locate her at any time by magic - even if someone was trying to
shield her location. Xander never ceased to surprise him. After the fitting
room incident Spike had gone off on a rant about how vulnerable the nibblet
was and how he could track her physically but that there was mojo that could
bollocks that up. Xander had not only listened, but also acted on Spike's
observations. The others now listened to him as he outlined the sketchy
information obtained from all their various sources and drew a conclusion
that silenced and frightened them all. Red, for the first time since Glory,
looked about ready to give up when Xander pointed out that all the signs
indicated that the Initiative was back. In her half-hearted attempt at humor
she asked Xander if they had time to implement the 'Omega Plan'. For the
second time in a matter of moments Spike realized Xander had taken his
randomly articulated fears and formed a planned defense to be used should
the circumstances of his speculation ever materialize. Only once had Spike
worried out loud that the reason Dawn had been sent to a Slayer was that the
Powers That Be had determined that only a Slayer could keep her safe. After
all, they hadn't put her in a one-time protection role; had Buffy lived she
would have guarded her, like family, for the rest of her life. Yet again his
young military genius had anticipated the end of the world and taken steps
to prepare a defense. The looks on Angel's and his minions' faces were
priceless as Xander casually informed them that they had the means to break
the other Slayer out of prison at any time the situation warranted risking
her psychotic behavior.
It was amusing to watch his Sire wrap his souled-up mind around the fact
that this was Xander's town, and that while most of the demons of the
Hellmouth acknowledged Spike as its Master, it was Xander who ran the show.
Spike wasn't like Angelus. He had never desired power or status. Spike was
in no mood to cut a deal with something bigger and badder than himself, for
a part in the greater evil. Angelus had always been making and breaking
deals. He had been all wrapped up in whatever endgame would occur between
good and evil, desiring to be one of the major players. Why? What more was
there to undeath than what Spike had? All the blood he wanted, violence
ensuing at a moment's notice, minions he could trust who were smart and
capable, and a mate who was a great shag and had a gift for mass
destruction.
The conference was interrupted when Xander took a call from one of his
minions. All Xander's preparations made sense now that the Initiative was in
town. Once off the phone, Xander briefly outlined what was happening all
over Sunnydale at that time and what the result would be. A few clipped
orders, given out regardless of whether they were issued to a member of the
LA crew or the Sunnydale group, kicked off an organized evacuation of the
magic shop. Spike watched to see if Angel would protest Xander's usurping of
his minions. Just when it looked as if he would speak Xander used the word
'bombs' and both Angel and his pet Watcher suffered a brain meltdown.
After sending the rest out to start the evacuation, Xander asked Spike and
Angel to come with him. The inclusion of Angel forestalled Spike's hope for
a pre-battle shag, but he eagerly anticipated Xander's next move. Angel may
not like Xander's unpredictable actions, but Spike loved them. Spike blinked
in disbelief when Xander presented both of them with long black suits of
heavy material. Xander brooked no protest from either of the vampires and
quickly explained why he had procured the thermal suits. Spike remembered
how quickly the soldier boys had followed the tracking device implanted in
him before it had been removed, and how they had efficiently located the
single walking corpse in a dorm full of warm-blooded humans. He was touched
that Xander had taken such precautions to remove that advantage from their
adversaries. Xander quickly overrode Angel's protest and Spike listened
gleefully as his mate put the poof in his place. Xander's words to the
souled one - reminding Angel that the possession of a soul did not make one
a saint - were moving not by the literal content but due to his belief in
what he said. Xander was prepared to defend Spike, his pack, and the minions
he had assembled from the remnants of his graduating class against all
threats, be they human or not. The quiet conviction and steadfast loyalty of
this man constantly reaffirmed Spike's choice. Xander was the perfect mate.
Unfortunately, being perfect, Xander could read Spike like a thirty-foot
billboard and almost always knew what he was up to. Before Spike could even
begin a round of Sire abuse, Xander dismissed him. He told Spike to change,
check on Dawn and to fetch Red. Normally Spike would have made a token
protest for the sheer enjoyment of bantering with Xander, but not now, and
not in front of Angel. He knew Xander was under a great deal of pressure,
and wouldn't risk undermining his authority.
That didn't stop him from eavesdropping on the two of them as soon as he
rounded the corner. Spike wasn't sure what he expected to hear.
Intellectually he knew Xander was right, that he was a 'goof' for thinking
that Angel wanted his boy. But emotionally he was sure, that if Angel ever
looked - really looked, past all the preconceived images he had of Xander in
his head - and saw the man he had become that he would either try to take
the boy from him or destroy the boy, as his Sire had done with everything
Spike had ever cared for. Spike didn't know which he was least prepared to
hear; Xander ask Angel if he could depend on him to kill if asked to, or
Angel admitting that he feared he would be too able to kill and not able to
stop. Angelus would never have admitted either the lack of control or that
he feared anything. Spike decided that maybe he had underestimated both his
Sire and his mate and went to check on Dawn.
~~~~~
Spike waited for Red to laugh. The thermal suit Xander had found for him fit
like body paint and looked ridiculous. He considered how his lack of body
temperature made him and those around him vulnerable to the soldier boys and
admitted Xander did think of everything. Willow cocked her head and said,
"It doesn't really look that different - except for the hood. You wear your
clothes so tight anyway - not that I look."
Spike had found her downstairs directing Xander's minions on what to pack
and what to leave. She followed him upstairs and walked with him to the
front room. They found Xander leaning over a table reviewing details with
Cordelia. Spike was distracted from the pleasant view of Xander's ass this
pose presented when the girl turned to comment on something Xander had said
and her lips almost brushed the boy's ear.
Xander turned at the sound of his growl, placed one palm flat against
Spike's chest and began talking to Willow.
When had it happened? What magic had this beautiful dark-eyed man used to
quiet his rage, to sate his blood lust? Spike wasn't even sure that it was
the chip anymore. Xander's total lack of fear, the absolute trust he gifted
the vampire with was like plunging that fire into a cool, calm pool. *I like
your way of moving, slip into my stillness - silence me. [1]* It was odd
that this babbling boy should so bless him with silence, but that was the
only word to describe the lack of rage and the fulfilled longings. Right
now, he should be tearing his rival to bits. Yet, avoiding the pain of the
chip wasn't what stopped him. Somehow Xander had figured out just when to
accept Spike's reactions and when to protest. Xander was showing no more
interest in Cordelia than in any actress on the telly. Even when curled
against Spike after an exhaustive struggle for the remote, Xander sensed
when it was safe to show appreciation for the female form and when to
disinterestedly classify each as real, fake, or who cares?
Xander and Willow had dropped into an abbreviated conversation. Listening to
them as he followed them back to the office Spike assumed he would have had
to have known both of them from birth to decipher it. Their half-formed
sentences were traded in rapid succession and Spike gave up attempting to
translate when it started to sound as if they were discussing Willow's cat.
Their words stopped and Willow looked nervous. She said she needed Tara and
left.
Xander looked tired. His weary smile still warmed Spike. In spite of the
pending battle, when Spike expected to be eager to get some of his own back
at the Initiative, all the vampire wanted to do was lift the weight off his
boy's shoulders; to take him home and shelter him from the world. *Lock the
door. Come to me naked. No one's here.[2] When this is over, you and me,
pet, we're going to get you some rest, if I have to sit on you to keep you
down.* But Spike could think of other ways to keep his mate in bed, and to
see he was too sated to leave it. Xander reached for Spike's hand and taking
it, pulled him close. Warm fingers traced the neckline of the thermal suit
and played along the skin over his exposed collarbone as Xander familiarized
himself with Spike's new look. Spike wondered if the others realized how
much strain the boy was under, how personally he took the safety of each and
every one of them. Sooner or later, no matter how well prepared Xander was,
he would lose another one of his 'pack', and trying to anticipate when and
how that would happen was killing the boy. Spike nuzzled Xander's hair,
drinking in his scent. Xander flirted with a bashful look and suggestive
words when he issued Spike's orders for the upcoming battle - Spike was to
follow him and no matter what stay near. Not hard orders to follow, since
that was what he had intended to do anyway.
Spike's instant agreement seemed to please Xander. It occurred to him that
Xander might consider him a liability, since Spike couldn't fight humans -
Spike didn't want that. He didn't want the boy looking out for him when
Xander needed to be looking out for himself. He wondered why he wasn't
enraged that a human, even his mate, thought he was weak. It was possible
that the expected rage couldn't surface though the thick, blanketing fear
which struck when Spike realized that he wouldn't be able to defend Xander -
this enemy was human. It was one thing to risk this himself; even chipped
Spike had never backed down from the solider boys. They could dust him but
he would not let them break him. But Xander was unpredictable and Spike had
witnessed just what lengths the boy would go to for the people he loved and
of one thing Spike was confident - Xander loved him.
"You don't have to protect me. I know they're human but...."
"I know." Xander didn't sound patronizing or even concerned, he sounded
sincere and certain.
Willow and Tara slipped into the office. Willow shut the door and Tara began
to set out the supplies she had carried in in a large bowl. He started to
ask what was going on after Willow had asked if they were ready, but was
forestalled by Xander quiet, "Do you trust me?" Did he trust him? What kind
of question was that? The man had trusted Spike with his love, his life, his
pride and his 'pack'. Xander had opened up his very soul to Spike - not out
of naivete, not out of some deluded fantasy that Spike was human. No, this
frank young man knew exactly what Spike was and what he was capable of and
held no false illusions. Yet still he had given Spike the one thing that had
eluded him in life and in death. Requited love. Such a simple thing; those
who had it probably assumed it was quite common. After almost a hundred and
fifty years of looking, Spike knew differently. But if love itself was a
blessing, being loved back was walking though the gates of Heaven. Trust
Xander? Spike would drink holy water for the boy.
"I trust you."
Xander placed firm hands at Spike's waist and whispered, "Close your eyes,
and stand perfectly still. Don't move until I say so."
Spike felt the boy rest his forehead against his own. The witches began to
chant. It was a good thing that Xander held tight. His hot hands prevented
Spike from twitching his hips to the rhythm and the light feel of his head
resting against the boy's stopped him from pulling away from Red's soft,
tingling touch. He smelled magic, strong magic, in the air. He had meant it
when he had told Xander he would follow him though the gates of Hell, but
the gates of Hell were familiar to a demon. One of Red's untried spells was
an entirely different matter. He longed to open his eyes and meet that warm
brown gaze, but Xander had asked only two things of him - to stay still, and
to shut his eyes. It was probably only a protection spell of some sort or
maybe something to make it easy to find each other in the upcoming chaos.
Xander had sounded serious about wanting Spike to stay near - as if that
wasn't his first choice of where to be at any time. Anything the witches
could do to keep Xander safe, or to keep him safe so that Xander wouldn't
endanger himself by looking after him, was fine by Spike.
Spike had never stood still well, or waited, or been patient. Come to think
of it neither had Xander, but the boy stood rock steady, almost holding his
breath. Spike scented tension, nervousness and anticipation, but Xander had
smelled that way all day. Spike tried to think of anything but staying still
and Red's odd touch, which was making him nauseous. *Vampires don't get
nauseous, do they?* He thought about Xander. He thought about taking Xander
home and licking off the thin layer of salty sweat the day had left behind.
He thought about starting at Xander's neck and working his way down across
his chest, down over his abs then up along the inside of his thighs...
"Open your eyes." Xander was so close his eyes were Spike's world. Spike,
not for the first time since these were his favorite eyes, watched as the
muscle around the pupil expanded and contracted. He could see that the color
of the iris was two entirely different shades of brown, lighter near the
pupil and darker near the whites. He also saw that those eyes were slightly
bloodshot both from the boy's sporadic sleeping pattern and his habit of
rubbing them when stressed. When those beautiful, warm eyes looked toward
Willow, Spike followed his gaze. Nestled in the witch's tiny, open palm was
a small, light gray object. It took a moment before Spike realized it was
the chip.
1. Trudi Parana 'Skinsong'
2. Jealuddin Rumi
Part 13
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