Reunification
Part 6
Lindsey focused on tuning his guitar. It didn’t need it but it gave him
something to do while he considered what to sing. He had long since lost
his fear of tough crowds, not that he could recall ever playing one that
held the level of animosity currently directed at him. He wondered how soon
after his arrival that the spies from the firm had passed along the news.
Or, perhaps they had know he was coming before he arrived - there had been a
great many hungry young turks pursuing junior partner status when he had
left.
Then there was Lorne’s nagging habit of always questioning why he chose a
particular piece. Maybe he should deliberately break with his bluesy
standards... or keep the sliding chords of a blues ballad and wrap it around
an unexpected song? That might work. Lindsey hid his smirk behind his shaggy
hair as he bent over his guitar - he knew just the song to make the
sanctimonious vampire uncomfortable.
Lifting his head he sang in clear and seductive voice,
“The day rolls in,
the night rolls out
Desire rules without a doubt
The heart beats fast, you salivate
And when you come it won't be late
I guess by now you got the score
A little taste you want it more
From San Antonio to Marrakesh
Yeah when the night comes
Every body's gotta have
Flesh”
Lindsey watched his audiences reaction. Angel, who had been standing close
to where Cordelia sat, stepped back. His Childe ,though, slipped silently
behind Xander, who had moved to sit next to the witch Willow when Lorne had
gathered them for the readings. Her girlfriend had reached out to clasp her
hand as the music started.
Linsey continued,
“The prince of lust has met his match
The witch has brewed her baddest batch
His sword is sharp and hard as stone
Her cauldron begs for one more bone
And so my love, this story's told
From modern times to days of old
From Boston Mass. to Bangladesh
Yeah, when the night comes
Everybody got to have
Flesh” [1]
Spike leaned forward over the back of the divan and buried his gameface in
the crook of Xander’s neck. Lindsey knew he murmured something after
inhaling deeply but couldn’t hear what. Whatever it was it caused a leering
grin to cross the human’s face. Lindsey watched Xander tilt his head back
into a deep kiss. Spike stroked back the thick dark hair of his human and
trailed his slim pale fingers down his heavily muscled neck pushing back the
shirt collar. That was when Lindsey saw it - vivid and white against the
warmly tanned skin - a scar. A mark - Consort? No, impossible. Even if Spike
were as unconventional as his Sire, no Master would tolerate the brash
self-assurance this human radiated, especially not in front of another
vampire. As unbelievable a concept as it was, they had to be mated.
Lindsey hadn’t realized he had finished until they began to applaud. He had
been too wrapped up in the snatches of information he had picked up from
watching his audience. Not that the fact that Riley had some subtle - or not
so subtle - dependence on his quiet friend was news. But watching them had
yielded a depth to their nonverbal communication that belied what he had
thought was a new relationship. Cordelia, it seemed, was well aware of
Angel’s growing attraction to her and also seemed to genuinely regret how
much stress it caused the gloomy corpse. Lindsey had realized when Xander
had crossed to the divan that he had a gun in the waistband of his jeans at
the small of his back and now he was sure Xander also had a weapon in his
left boot, but couldn’t tell what it was. The fact that Spike was jealous
wasn’t news but Lindsey was amused to note the vampire leveled that
possessive, threatening glare which he had turned on Lindsey at nearly
everyone else, as well.
~~~~
Angel watched as his friends and guests fawned over Lindsey’s sensuous,
bluesy rendition of a pop ballad. Even Cordy seemed to forget that the whole
purpose of the performance was so that Lorne could interpret the ex-lawyer’s
role, if any, in the prophesy. For all they knew, Cordy’s vision’s sole
purpose was to save the Lindsey’s worthless skin. Lorne seemed lost in
thought. Angel wanted to know what Lorne had picked up but didn’t want to
disturb him if he was still receiving information. Besides that, he had
other worries - Spike and Xander looked ready to rip each others clothes off
and the scent of their arousal was making it impossible to think.
Angel growled softly. Cordelia and Wes didn’t seem to notice him, but
Willow’s girlfriend turned wise eyes on him and then darted that gaze around
the room, as if seeking the source of his displeasure. Spike buried a
snicker in Xander’s neck. Xander cocked his head, only partly to give Spike
better access. He shot Angel a suspicious look, quickly hidden behind a
grin, but not before Angel was reminded of the scent of holy water he had
caught when the boy - no, young man - had first approached him. Angel knew
that the water pistol, conveniently strapped at the base of Xander’s back,
wasn’t for him or his infamous Childe, and worried that the pressure of
guarding the Hellmouth was making the human paranoid. Surely, he thought,
Xander could relax here.
Angel had hated how Xander constantly suspected his motives and actions,
even before he had lost his soul. Now, watching the dark-eyed young man turn
laughing eyes on William the Bloody, Angel realized that just as Xander had
been willing to trust him to take care of Dawn and the witches if the human
hadn’t survived their skirmish with the Initiative, Angel could trust this
quick-minded, wary survivor to protect his family if something were to
happen to him.
Almost as if Xander heard his thoughts he looked up at him. Angel was pinned
by the open laughing look of pure enjoyment. Gone was the forced grin that
was second nature to the hyperactive human when hiding anything, replaced by
open amusement. Xander nudged Spike into a sprawling position between he
and Willow and turned his attention to Lorne
“Honey, if an expensive blond hasn’t grabbed you yet, you might want to run
now,” Lorne mused as he slowly paced near the musician.
“Angel, does this guy come with a translator. ‘Cause Giles is easier to
understand,” Xander drawled.
“Yeah, Peaches, and our Watcher is better than yours with prophesies, too,”
Spike chimed in.
“Hush!” Willow slapped Spike’s knee and Angel wondered if she had been
aiming for Xander.
“Anything else?” Angel asked, quietly as Lorne’s red eyes met his.
“Just, music, a lot of music... a vague sense of a woman... nothing
dramatic, no apocalypse, no... none of the things I saw when you were trying
to decide whether to leave the firm,” he whispered the last to Lindsey and
trailed his fingers gently through the musician’s shaggy hair.
Willow looked up. Tara had just whispered something to her that even Angel
hadn’t heard with his enhanced senses. The redhead turned a guarded look on
Lindsey and said, with a look of resolve that still had shades of the
babbling fifteen-year-old Angel had first met. “Lindsey? If you don’t mind
my asking? Ah, how come your hand doesn’t have an aura?”
~~~~~
Spike had heard odder tales than the lawyer’s explanation of his evil hand,
but he didn’t like the idea of this law firm. If they had gone to all the
trouble of bringing Darla back and having her turned, Angel was in the
middle of an all out war, whether he admitted it to himself or not. Spike
had no intention of letting his mate or their ‘pack’ get caught in the
crossfire. Peaches was going to get a piece of his mind if that scrap of
skin held anything that could hurt what was his.
“Er, Angel... we don’t have to listen to you sing, do we? ‘Cause, hey, been
warned,” Xander sounded like he was joking but Spike recognized the real
panic in his eyes. Spike knew that this Xander-babble was being used to
distract the others from his mate’s very real stage fright. Xander may have
turned the tale of the talent show into an amusing bedtime story for Spike,
but he had ended it with ’and that is why I’ll never set foot in front of an
audience again’.
“You know,” Xander added, “Spike does a killer rendition of ‘I Wanna Be
Sedated’.” [2]
Spike smirked as his mate pushed him forward, or at least tried to - a
vampire made a hell of an immovable object. The witches were giggling at
Xander’s babble. He heard Red ask her honey to sing, but doubted that the
shy one would be willing to in front of all these strangers, but decided
that he’d like to hear her some movie night when it was just the four of
them.
Spike wanted a better look at the skin that the Watcher had shown him. He
hadn’t had time to do more than glance at the notes before he’d caught this
musician of Angel‘s trying to make time with Xander. But, he’d realized
that, judging by the age and material used to make up the scroll, he didn’t
want anything it foretold happening while his humans were visiting.
“Er, what about you, Pet? How about you sing for us?” Spike grabbed his
struggling mate and manhandled him to the center of the room. He loved to
watch the wheels turn behind those intelligent eyes. He knew Xander would
maneuver out of singing and wanted to see how.
Gasping for air over his laughter Xander said, “Because I have a voice that
would bend metal, peel paint and sends bats reeling for miles.”
“Who told you that? I like when you sing, luv. Just your choice of material
I find disturbing.” Spike held on, both to keep Xander from bolting and to
ensure the boy didn’t slip to the floor since he was still laughing.
“Willow. Which, talk about glass houses...” Xander snickered as Willow
whirled on him with her mouth open to protest.
“Willow has a lovely voice,” Tara said clearly and firmly. Xander and Willow
traded smiles, having once again caused Tara to step out of her shell.
“I want to hear Cordy sing ‘Oh, Lord, Won’t You Buy Me A Mercedes Benz’,
Xander smirked at his new target. [3]
“As opposed to Sid Vicious does Frank Sinatra?” she shot back, rolling her
eyes.
Spike wondered if Angel’s impassive expression as he watched the banter had
to do with the vague impressions that the demon Seer friend of his had
voiced, or merely indicated the Poof had no idea what they were talking
about. You would think with all the hours he devoted to brooding he could
have turned on a telly or a radio in the last fifty years, Spike mused.
Spike magnanimously let Xander slide down onto the couch again, back between
the witch and the brunette. Xander had promised delicious things if Spike
made and effort to get along with Cordelia.
It turned out that no one wanted to take the stage. Some claimed lack of
talent but it was more likely none of them wanted to be read. Cordelia was
reassuring the witches that they would stop by Lorne’s place the next night
and have a go at the real thing. She seemed to be bubbling over with plans
and Spike got the feeling that the Seer missed her old mates.
~~~~~
The humans slipped off to their respective beds at around three thirty.
Spike settled down at the wide conference table in the makeshift library,
with a tumbler of Angel’s best whiskey. He waited until the allegedly ex
Watcher headed up to bed, not sure he wanted his gift with languages in
their bleeding archives. Wesley had chosen to stay over rather than drive
home after consuming too much of the aforementioned whiskey. Spike sensed
Xander padding barefoot down the thickly carpeted stairs. He had hoped to
slink into their room before daybreak, keeping his mate none the wiser about
this prophesy nonsense. Briefly, he considered trying to distract the boy
with Angel’s laughably shoddy shelving units; those alone should have Xander
reaching for a tape measure and drawing up plans.
“I love a man with a brain,” Xander teased as he slid behind Spike, who was
perched on the edge of a straight-backed chair and scowling at a tattered
scroll. Xander wrapped his arm around his distracted lover’s waist for a
quick squeeze before trailing his hands back and up to the vampire’s
shoulders. Kneading the hard, corded muscles he asked, “I don’t want to
know what that’s made of, do I?
“Relax, Pet - s’not human.” Spike’s voice was shaded with a tired smile.
“But that is skin, right?” Xander’s hesitant gesture toward the document
fell short of physical contact, perhaps because of the dubious material that
the prophesy was written on or because that Spike had been handling it as if
it were made of cobwebs.
“Yeah. Vamp. Lasts longer than just about anything they used to record on in
the day this was created. Not as indestructible as stone tables, but the ink
doesn’t fade.” Spike said, leaning back into the warm, strong hands and
closed his eyes in pleasure.
“How? I mean... wouldn’t the vamp... dust when... How did they keep the
skin?” Xander stopped his loving ministrations and cocked his head to see
clearly into Spike’s eyes, looking innocent and adorably confused.
Spike quickly weighed the enjoyment he got from making Xander go ‘ewww’
against an uncomfortable desire to keep those eyes wide and naive. But
Xander wasn’t naive, not with being Hellmouth born and bred and if he
weren’t as knackered as Spike, he would have pieced it together by now.
Rather than letting his mate either work it out on his own or worse, go ask
Angel, Spike said. “Simple, luv. You just tattoo your words on the vamp,
remove his skin, then dust him.”
Instead of an ‘ewww’, Xander shuddered and looked quickly into his lover‘s
eyes. Spike was still amazed to see the flare of protective passion flash
across Xander’s warm brown eyes. Never mind that he was the Big Bad, never
mind that he was a soulless, chipless, evil undead killer, Xander still
reacted to any threat to Spike as if he could somehow protect the vampire
from the world. Oddly enough, when it was just the two of them and Xander
wrapped Spike in his warmth - like now - Spike believed he could.
“Maybe he volunteered, so that the information would be saved longer...
maybe he wasn’t dusted?” In an instant, Spike’s fierce warrior was a boy,
asking to be told that the world wasn’t the cruel, self-serving place it
was, and Spike actually considered feeding him that lie.
“Xan, luv, this... this prophesy, it was laid down by the Powers that Be,
eh? The same ones Angel gets his marching orders from - the same ones who
call the Slayer. You think they just let this bastard,” Spike nodded at the
skin, “loose? Dusting him would have been the compassionate thing to do,
compared to keeping him around as a renewable supply of paper.” Spike
softened his words by soothingly stroking the side of Xander’s troubled
face. “’Sides, was an evil undead bastard - don’t you go jumping teams on
me, Pet. You’re allowed to take my side ‘cause we’re shagging, but I don’t
want you to turn all ‘vampires’re people too’ on me.”
“Umm..” Xander blushed and chuckled, “not going to be an issue.”
“Any luck?” Wesley asked. He came through door while reading a fax,
obviously he hadn’t gone to bed, . When he looked up at the men sharing the
chair he backpedaled, “Er... that is...”
Xander laughed and Spike groused, “Too much luck. Like all Ephratian this
shit has layers and layers of meanings. Trouble is there’s no way to know
how the illusions and metaphors have changed... Shakespeare and Springsteen
are both written in English but translations have to take into account the
cultural nuances and social mores of each writer.”
Wesley stopped still, his eyes narrowed as Spike’s accent has shifted. He
cocked his head and started to ask a question but Spike hummed briefly as he
looked at Xander and sang, “The street's alive as secret debts are paid,
Contacts made, they vanished unseen, Kids flash guitars just like
switch-blades hustling for the record machine, The hungry and the hunted
explode into rock'n'roll bands, That face off against each other out in the
street down in Jungleland.” [4] Spike pulled Xander’s arms around him and
leaned back to enjoy Wesley’s confusion.
“You were actually able to read it? In its original text?” Wesley stepped up
to the table and picked up the notebook in which Spike had been mapping out
his translation.
“Reading it’s no problem, understanding it...” Spike shrugged and Xander
squeezed tighter. His enjoyment of Wesley’s open-mouthed amazement
outweighed his previous caution. Even Rupert didn’t know just how much time
he had whiled away while babysitting Dru in learning various demonic
tongues. This one belonged to his Sire and he would just have to trust Angel
to keep any contact he still had with the Watchers to a minimum.
Spike had heard Angel’s soft tread on the stairs up from his basement lair
and was please to feel Xander tense behind him. Wesley, however, jumped
slightly when the dark vampire spoke.
“Any luck?” Angel leaned against the door frame. He had evidently only come
up to check on the prophesy research. He was barefoot and wore only loose
silk drawstring pajama bottoms.
“Got you a better translation.” Spike sighed, running his hands back though
his hair and leaning into Xander. “Not sure it makes any more sense what
with all the bleeding symbolic crap.”
“It might make more sense if someone,” Xander emphasized just who someone
was by sinking his teeth into the muscle over Spike’s collarbone, “fed and
got some sleep.”
“You’ve a one track mind, Pet. Like that about you, I do.” Spike offered a
tired leer and nuzzled Xander’s neck. “What say we leave Peaches to pull his
over-moussed hair out over this shit and have ourselves a nap?”
“Spike, I could spend all night on this - you know I can’t read Ephratian,”
Angel said while puzzling over Spike’s notes.
As Xander was dragging Spike over to the stairs, Spike called back. “S’not
like you were gonna do anything but wank, Soulboy.”
Angel growled.
“Did he just do Lurch?” Xander asked.
“Pet, Peaches wouldn’t know the Addams Family if one of them bit him in is
ass.” Spike snickered.
“Well, that’s a disturbing image.” Xander said, and the two left taking the
disconcerting scent of arousal with them.
~~~~~~~~~~
[1] Flesh – Aerosmith
[2] I Wanna Be Sedated - Ramones
[3] Oh, Lord, Won’t You Buy Me A Mercedes Benz - Janis Joplin
[4] Jungleland - Bruce Springsteen
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