Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy. I just borrowed some of the characters. Rated: NC-17

Ulterior Motives

Chapter 25

Xander got his bath and massage. Spike saw to it that he was totally relaxed, in every way. They slept late the next night and woke just before court was to convene. Xander ate his breakfast, Spike had toast dipped in blood along with him. “Ok, that’s just gross. How can you do that?” Spike dipped the corner of his triangle of toast into his mug. “Just like this, pet.” “Eeeuuuwww! Soggy toast is just nasty.” Xander waved his hand. “Out of my face with that. It’s all droopy an’ stuff.” Spike munched on his bite of toast for a second, then what Xander had said clicked. “Soggy toast? Not bloody?” “Bloody is natural. Soggy is not. Soggy toast is an oxymoron. Bleh!” Spike had to laugh. “Ok, pet. No more dipping toast. Now... I have to go to court, you’re not allowed.” Xander made a woeful face. “I know. I’m really sorry I disobeyed you but ... never mind. We went all over this. Master Bruce gave me some stuff to do and I’ve got a project that I’ve been working on. It’s a bench to match the clavichord. And a stool for me. When you get out of court, would you like to see them?” “Sure. Sounds really nice. You do really good work. I don’t think I’ve seen work like yours for ... twenty years or more. I know a few demons, and some people too, who’d love to get their hands on some of your work. Want me to check it out?” Xander brightened. “Yeah, that’d be great. I don’t need money, you give me plenty. But I like to earn my own, I’m getting really picky about the translations I do. If it’s not interesting, I’m not interested. And my no-no’s have gotten around, so I don’t get stinky stuff, black arts, or human or demon skin parchments anymore. Except from the Council of Wankers and I just send them back with a nasty note. I wonder if I burned one and sent them back the ashes, would that convince them? It’s an idea at any rate. And I want to take a look at the new tunnel.” Spike sipped tea. “Not much to see yet. It’s still more or less just a big hole in the ground. And it’s dangerous in some parts. Read the signs.” “Ok. I’ll be careful. You better get going, you’ll be late.” Spike snorted, “Not like it makes any difference. They’re not going to do anything until I get there.” He strode out, coat tails swinging. . Xander reported to Master Bruce who set him to doing an exercise routine guaranteed to make him regret not being able to go to court. It worked. “Damn, you really hate me, don’t you?” Xander drank half the bottle of water at one go and then wiped his face with a damp towel. “No, actually, I don’t. If you’re going to go off fighting vampires, you’ll be trained to survive it. Now, again.” Xander groaned and picked up his sword again. “Ok, same kata?” “No, I’m going to teach you the most advanced kata I know. Get ready.” Xander braced himself for a hard day. His punishment was grueling but fair. He paid attention to Master Bruce’s instruction, Master Bruce was even more strict now than ever. Sharp swords and carelessness do not mix. And Master Bruce now refrained from corporal punishments, he used extra exercise instead. Xander wound up doing over two hundred pushups and crunches during the hours he spent learning the kata. At the end of the training session Master Bruce gave on last command. “Forty back flips. Then shower. I’ll send in Naomi to give you a massage. Where are you going after you leave here?” Xander drank his forth bottle of water and sighed before answering. “I’m going to the station to work on a project for a while, then I’m going to look at the new sewer entrance. Quarters after that to work on a translation. Forty flips?” Master Bruce put on his sternest look. “Forty. I don’t want you to wind up dizzy from two or three flips. This will prevent that. You’ll probably fall after ten or so, just get up and continue.” “Ok. Forty it is.” Xander started flipping. He made it to twenty before he fell. Master Bruce just pulled him to his feet and announced, ‘Twenty, keep going.’ Xander got his feet under him and went on. By the time he was through with forty back flips he was shaky and dizzy. He just dropped into a cross-legged seat and waited for it to pass. Master Bruce didn’t bother him, he just waited for him to recover. He was very proud of Xander. He’d never seen a human who was so eager to learn and would tolerate his training methods, they were much too rough for most of them. And they broke so damn easily. Xander had now been getting Spike’s blood for nearly a year and it showed. When Xander stopped shaking, he wiped sweat away again and headed for the shower just off the dojo. He knew that, without a massage, he was going to hurt. He was glad that Spike always made sure that there was a someone to give him a massage, sometimes he even did it himself. Today was not one of those times. Xander showered quickly, scrubbing the sweat out of his hair, grumbling, “Master Vampire Sensei, evil thing. Ow! I’m gonna be so sore.” The two masseuses in the outer room had to cover their mouths to keep from giggling out loud. Xander’s remarks, no matter how soft, could be heard by every vampire within twenty feet. When he was finished showering, Xander just wrapped a towel around his waist and rubbed most of the water out of his hair with a towel. He remembered his war lock just in time. He’d forgotten about it once and given the dangling braid a rather painful pull. He spent a moment looking at it in the mirror. Bud had braided the 4 mm beads into a pencil sized braid, spacing them about two inches apart. He was rather proud of his accomplishment. He’d looked up Bud’s tribe and realized that their requirements for warrior were strict but he’d met them all. He stroked the braid and went out for his massage The two girls were Chinese, tiny and very old. Xander nodded to them, got on the table and waited. “You will be wanting us to give you moxibustion?” Xander considered this for a moment. “No. It kinda creeps me out. Fire and Xander not such a good mix. Just a good massage. I’m going to hurt so bad tomorrow. Master Bruce is not pleased with me.” “Ah, you should practice better then. He will be pleased with you if you are diligent in your kata.” “Oh, I’m diligent. It’s just, you know me, I put my foot in it on a regular basis. I messed up and Master Spike is pissed at me, so Master Bruce is too. You didn’t hear?” The other ‘girl’, Xander couldn’t convince himself to refer to them any other way, announced, “We do not listen to common gossip. We have much better things to do.” She emphasized this with a tiny sniff of disdain. Xander relaxed as one vampire took one foot and the other one started on a hand. “Feels good.” “Quiet, you! You are supposed to be relaxing, not chattering.” “Yes, ma’am. Quiet now.” Xander bent himself to relaxing so he wouldn’t be stiff. The two women worked on Xander, exchanging looks from time to time. Xander nearly dozed off he got so relaxed. Finally, they patted him gently and got him off the table, suitably dressed and out the door. It was all they could do to keep from at least licking him. “Very lickable, yes, sister?” “Oh, so very, very bite-able. Too bad we’re not allowed.” “Meh! I have no wish to have my hands severed and reattached on the wrong wrists.” “Me neither. Master Spike is very possessive.” “It will lead to bad things.” “I do hope not. ... We better get this cleaned up.” So they cleaned up the mess and went back to their quarters. Xander went to his shop in the old filling station. . Xander ran his hand over the seat of the guitar stool. It wasn’t quite as smooth as he wanted it so he rummaged around in a box until he found the piece of steel wool. He used it, dipped in some linseed oil, to smooth off the last of the slight roughness caused by the joins in the inlay. He wanted this perfect. The pair of bench and stool stood for something special to him. He spent the next hour working on the finish on both pieces, while the finish on one dried, he worked on the other. He wanted to have at least three coats of old-fashioned lacquer on both pieces today. As he worked, he unconsciously whistled the tune they were working on. He did love making music with Spike and Giles. He thought about what he wanted to make next as he rubbed. After working for nearly two hours, Xander decided he'd done as much as he could for the time being so he began to clean up his work area. Several vampires, and human servants too, had offered to clean up for him but he liked to do it himself. That way he knew where everything was and he could be sure that his materials were stocked up and ready to be used. “Looks so nice, pet.” Spike sauntered into the room, coat tails swinging gently. “Thanks. I've finished for the day.” Xander caught Spike's hand before he could touch the bench. “Please don't. It's not dry yet and you'll leave a finger print. I was going to add another coat but it's not drying like it should.” Spike drew back his hand. “Sorry. It's not drying right? Why not?” Xander shrugged. “Don't know. It used to be dry here, but I've been feeling a damp draft. I think that's the problem, in fact, I know it is. I was going to go look for the source of the draft but now that you're here, why don't we both go?” Spike had to laugh. “Master Vampire here. Huntin' down a draft, not exactly my forte. But we can look into it.” Xander gave Spike a hug then turned towards the door. “Thanks. That draft is giving me fits. Something about it really bothers me. I'm not sure what.” Spike shook himself, the hug had effected him more than he expected. Xander's open, easy affection, aimed at him, always caught him by surprise. “Well, pet, we'll fix it. Do you notice any smell?” “No, but that doesn't mean much. I don't have a good sense of smell. Not like yours, at any rate. Come on, this way.” Spike followed Xander who had wet his finger by the simple expedite of sticking it in his mouth. He was holding it up and trying to feel which side was coolest. “This doesn't work as well as the movies seem to think. I don't feel that much difference.” “I never found that trick to be worth the trouble. Got a candle here somewhere. That usually works.” Xander looked interested, he loved it that Spike knew so many interesting things. He vowed to get Spike to tell him stories about the 'olden' days. Spike found the candle and lit it. He held it up and moved it back and forth until the flame flickered. “There, see? When the flame flickers like that it's in a draft. Now ... I'll just move it slowly over the wall until it flickers again and ... Ha! There it is.” Spike held the candle up and to one side a bit. The flame flickered gently in the small draft. Spike pointed to the area and had Xander poke at the brick until they found the small cracks between the bricks and the mortar that were letting in the draft. Xander examined the cracks minutely. “Well, I can tuck point it. I think. Or maybe you've got a real brick man somewhere?” “I'll find out. But what's behind the wall that's making a draft? I think we'd better find out. I'll go get a crew together and see what's what. You go on with whatever you were going to do.” Xander opened his mouth to object to being excluded from the expedition but Spike held up a hand. “No, pet, no argy-bargy. I know you are more than capable of handling the job. That's part of the problem actually. I have a whole group of fledges that need breaking in and you're supposed to take a look at the sewer access point and check to see that the job's going to speck.” Xander frankly gaped at Spike who smirked back. “See? I do too know the lingo. Made sure to find out what needed to be done. Don't trust those wankers to do the job right, no matter what they say. So go check it out for me, please?” Xander eyed Spike closely for a few seconds but he seemed on the level. Xander didn't put it past him to pull a fast one, but his clear blue return gazed convinced Xander that he meant what he said. “Well, ok. I don't like it, but you're right, someone really needs to check up on the work. and I'm the best for the job. Rats! I wanna go with you and kill something.” Xander made a face. Spike nearly fell down laughing. “Alexander LaVel Harris! Ya sound like me. What's got your knickers in a twist?” Xander laughed too. “Nothing much, I just ... You know, I think it's your blood. It's making me more ruthless ... or something.” Spike nodded in understanding. “It'll do that. And it'll keep ya from aging, not completely, but you'll age about three or four months in a year.” Xander followed Spike as he headed away from the drafty wall and up the stairs. “And it makes me stronger, quicker and I noticed that I heal a lot faster than normal, almost as fast as Buffy. Um ... how long do you think I'll live?” Spike was tempted to say something like 'until you die.' but he knew that wasn't what Xander needed. “Don't know, pet. Long time. I've heard of some pets that lived ... oh, ninety years or more. You'll probably last longer than that. Don't let's worry about that right now, Ok?” Xander shrugged, “Sure. Look, you go kill something, you selfish thing, and I'll go take a look at that hole in the ground. Bye.” Spike waved to Xander as he rounded the corner then went to collect a few fledges that he wanted blooded. He decided to include Bud for good measure, if he forbad Xander to go hunting alone he needed to follow his own orders. As Master of the Hellmouth, he had responsibilities he couldn't avoid and as Master of California even less. So he was taking backup along with the fledges. . Xander ambled down the long hall. He remembered finding the glowing ball of the portal in one of the rooms along this hall. He shuddered a bit, he hated bugs. He kept moving, he didn't like to think about the bugs, so this hall always kind of gave him the creeps. If he found another glowing ball he was stamping on it quick. When he reached his gardens he took a short detour into them, walking in them relaxed him so he took a few moments just to look at plants. Narma stopped him with a question, and he took time to answer, which took a bit. Xander left the gardens by the back side because it was closer to the sewer entrance. He wanted to look the thing over and be done with it, somehow it gave him a feeling of impending doom. “Probably just the chicken salad.” he mumbled when Narma gave him a questioning look. “As you say, Master. I'll return to the gardens now, some of the orchids need repotting.” Narma bowed deeply and returned to his potting, Xander continued on to the sewer entrance. Xander nodded to Narma and entered the construction zone. He glanced around, looking for a hard hat, and noticed that there were several signs in the blocky print common to construction zones. He didn't bother to try to read most of them, they looked like common warning signs like the 'Hard Hat Area' sign over the rack of hats. He took one, resized it to fit him and went to look for the foreman. It didn't take him long to find the man. And man he was, human as they come, but he had a vampire assistant. Xander took in the two and sighed, this was not going to be fun. “Excuse me. I'm Xander Harris, Master Spike's thrall. He sent me to take a look around. So, could someone just give me the quickie tour. I'll be out of your hair in under an hour.” The looks he got were sharp and cold. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He waited until the two had a silent staring match, first with each other, then with him. He gave as good as he got, even with the vampire. When he decided they'd had enough time he just slapped them in the face with it. “Ok, guys, I don't care if you like me or not. I've got a job to do and I'm going to do it. I've had enough construction experience to know if you're doing the job right or not. I don't intend to get involved in the day to day of it, all I want to do is look stuff over and report back to Spike. Got me?” “Yeah, we got you. Come on then. I'll show you around. Then you can trot back to your master and tattle all you want.” Xander just got in the vampires face. “Excuse me? Yes, Spike is my master. No, I'm not tattling. I'm doing an oversight on your project. Master Spike doesn't know anything about construction, I do. You got a problem? We can take it to court, if you want.” Xander was nearly nose to nose with the vampire who was looking decidedly nervous now. “Or we can take it to the parking lot, except, I don't think you're a match for me. You're too soft.” Xander poked the vamp in the belly with one finger. “You ... you ... You're nothing but a pet! You can't talk to me like this.” The vampire sputtered and reached for Xander. Xander skipped out of his reach, took a defensive stance and waited, nothing much happened except the vamp backed off. “Better. Now, all I want is a good look at the site and the set up from the entrance. Let's go, get this over and get us out of each other's hair.” So the human supervisor led Xander to the sewer entrance which was now a huge hole in the floor of the corridor. He showed Xander the shoring, the forms and anything else he asked to see. Xander took his time inspecting the whole site. When he was done, he announced, “Well, everything seems to be in order. The concrete mix ordered is the right stuff. All in all, I'm going to give Spike a very favorable report. Thanks for the tour.” All he got was grunt in response, that and a nasty look. He started to say something but decided to just leave instead. He stomped off, heading in the general direction of the new opening. He didn't notice Arnold hovering around. Xander glared at the small side door, who the hell left art work on an access door? He opened it and entered the construction zone. He had noted with pleasure that the whole area was cordoned off and the actual opening covered with a temporary wall of 2x4's and plywood with a big door right in the middle of it and a smaller walk-in door off to one side, it was that door that he'd just stomped through. Arnold scurried over to read the sign, in Master Spike's own handwriting, “No entry without permission of Crew Chief.” Xander had just violated Master Spike's will for the last time, Arnold was going to see to that. Xander wandered around the site again. This time he saw all the things he didn't get to see the first time around. There wasn't anything wrong with anything, the two site bosses had just had a bad case of testosterone poisoning with a side of pissyness. He made a few notes in a small notebook then left. He headed for the side door and found it locked from the outside. He kicked it in disgust but refrained from kicking it down, instead he turned around and went into the sewers. “Wet, slimy, icky, sewer. Why the hell do I do this sort of shit? I should ... Spike is gonna kill me. He's going to be so pissed. Really, really pissed. And why am I talking to myself? ... Oh, that'd be because I know how much trouble I'm in.” Xander was lost, and in real trouble. He wasn't even sure where he was, everything at the entrance was different, he was pretty sure he'd taken a wrong turn just after he'd entered the sewers. He just wasn't sure how to get back to where he was supposed to be. “I swear I'll never lose my temper again. This is so not good, not good in a really very bad way. Shit!” This exclamation came from the sight of a fairly large glowing ball. The ball resembled the one Xander had crushed under foot several months ago so Xander approached it with care, but not trepidation. He circled it like a cat, sniffing suspiciously. Nothing jumped up and bit him nor did it smell bad. He watched it for a while but nothing came out of it so he just stomped on the basketball sized thing and watched the shards settle to the floor. He didn't think to pick up any pieces, he just hurried on his way. Arnold picked up several shards and collected some of the goo from inside it. Arnold had better sense than to actually touch the stuff, he just scooped it into a discarded butter tub he picked up. After collecting his condemning evidence, he scurried to follow Xander again. It took Xander another half hour to find a way to the surface, a door into a basement that he actually recognized. He scrambled up the steps and headed back for the residence. . Spike paced furiously. He'd come back from the blooding looking for Xander and a little cuddling. He'd found Timmins pacing the living room of their quarters swearing softly to himself. The actual hunt had gone well. Bud had taken point and they'd moved into the area behind the leaking wall and found that a nest of small demons called Hamark had moved in. They were fairly harmless, unless you had a dog, and had moved along at command. but ... and there usually was a but. They'd fallen afoul of a large nest of F'yarl demons on the circuitous rout back home. The resultant battle had raged for over five minutes. Five minutes might not seem like long, but when you're fighting for your life it's an eternity. During that eternity Spike lost two fledges, Bud was wounded slightly and Spike smelled Xander where he shouldn't be. Now he was fuming. Bud was in the infirmary being tended for a deep cut in one thigh and the rest of the fledges were partying. He was not best pleased to see Arnold sidling up to him. “Master Spike, if I may, there's things I must tell you. Your thrall is disobedient and ... and ...” Arnold gulped and stopped talking, his carefully rehearsed speech forgotten. Spike glowered at him until he got himself back together. “Well, just look. He went into the sewers, completely ignoring your sign. He ... he broke this. I don't even know what it is but I'm sure he shouldn't have done anything to it without checking with you. And he's still in the sewers ... I think.” Spike took one look into the tub and really lost his temper. This was another evidence of disobedience on Xander's part. The memo that had been circulated had specifically said not to destroy the next incursion point. Spike wanted to bring in Willow and a shaman to see if they could find out where the points were coming from which could help them figure out how to stop them. “So, he entered the sewers, ignoring my sign. He didn't bother to read the memo about destroying the incursion points and he's managed to disappear completely.” He whirled, coat tails flaring. “FIND HIM!! NOW!” Spike's shout sent minions and fledges scattering like quail. Timmins sighed, this was very bad, Spike rarely raised his voice anymore. This was a sure sign that his demon had the upper hand and his temper was lost. The flurry of activity led to Xander being found, out in the alley. Unfortunately he was still a block away from the residence and headed in the wrong direction. he didn't fight the minions who found him, in fact, he was glad to see them and said so. “Hey, guys, am I glad to see you. I”m so lost it's ridiculous. take me to Spike.” Two of the minions grabbed him. “Easy there! I'm coming, no need to drag me.” One of the minions just snarled. “Shut up! Master Spike is in a temper because of you. He said to find you and bring you to him. Bring means exactly that. Don't struggle.” Xander just gave up and let them lead him home. When he was finally in front of Spike all Xander could do was blink. Spike was in battle mode, vamp-faced and pacing. “Where have you been? I've had people looking for you all over. I thought we agreed that you weren't to go off on your own, not with out some backup. I even took backup with me! You had to have read the signs, they're right on the doors. Arnold saw you ... he saw you ignore my written word. You destroyed something I expressly forbad anyone to even touch. What are you thinking? You think because you're my Chosen that I won't punish you as you deserve? Well, you thought wrong!” Xander could only gulp and stare. He hadn't ever seen Spike this angry, ever. He started to say something but wound up just stuttering a bit. Arnold, standing behind Spike, just sneered at him. Spike pulled his belt out of the loops and doubled it, Xander struggled against the hands holding him. “No! Spike, No!” “How dare you tell me 'no'. I'll show you no.” Spike motioned to the two minions holding Xander. They threw him to the floor and each minion grabbed a hand then rolled away from Xander. He was pinned on his stomach, cruciform, helpless. He struggled fiercely and almost won then Spike commanded him, “Do not move! Stop struggling!” Two simple commands, issued in Masters Voice and Xander as incapacitated. All he could do was lie on the floor and wait. Spike whipped the belt down with a sharp whistling sound, the crack as it slashed across Xander's back made several minions flinch. Xander clenched his teeth, he wouldn't cry out. He wouldn't give his enemies the satisfaction. He endured fifteen lashes that made him feel as if his back was on fire, not that he wasn't used to that, but he hadn't expected such treatment from Spike. Spike knew how he felt about belts. Spike returned his belt to his pants, panting slightly. “Go to quarters! I'll talk to you later.” Xander dragged himself up from the floor. “My rooms or ours? I just need to know.” Spike thought for a second. “Yours. Don't expect me tonight. I'm too angry.” “Fine.” Xander walked to the door to the interior of the residence, making it to the door before he stumbled for the first time. Spike ignored him. Xander went through the door and Timmins met him. The servant waited for a moment then eased one arm around Xander and helped him to the private quarters, Xander stopped him before he could pass the door to Xander's bedroom. “Spike said in here, not his room.” “I'm so sorry, Young Master, I'm sure he'll come around very soon. He was just so angry that ..” Xander cut him off before he could say more. “Not now, Timmins, I'm hurting too much to listen to that bullshit just now. Go get me some of that cream that what's-his-name left. I'm sorry, it's clear up at the service station. Take your time, I'll be right here.” Timmins hurried off for the service station, he didn't realize until much later that Xander knew he'd be held up forever. Spike caught sight of him at once and demanded that he get the court room ready for an emergency high court. Timmins coped as best he could and, unfortunately, forgot all about Xander's cream. Just as Xander had expected him too. . Xander levered himself off the bed and rummaged in his closet. All his clothing was in there as there wasn't room in Spikes closet for Xander's things as well as his. So Xander packed a small backpack with two pair of jeans, a few t-shirts and all the underwear and socks he could cram into it. He also rummaged his desk, Spikes desk and both dressers in search of money. He managed to scrape together 200. He counted it and snarled, he knew Spike kept a huge amount of cash in the residence but he'd never paid attention to where it was and he didn't have time to search for it now. He shouldered the backpack with a hiss of pain, he didn't have time to access the damage now, he'd check for blood later. Right now he had to take advantage of the confusion Spike's temper tantrum was causing and make his get away. He made it to the garage by leaning one shoulder against the wall and just putting one foot in front of the other until he was there. He opened the key-box with a crowbar and found the keys to his truck. He made sure to check the gas tank before he used the remote to open the door so he could drive out. He snarled, “I begged you no belts.” threw the remote against the brick wall beside the door and drove off into the night. Xander drove for an hour, what direction he didn't care. He stopped once at a quick stop to by some pain relievers, soda and chocolate. At the last minute he decided to by a map. He knew he was making inroads on his cash that he really couldn't afford but it felt good. His head was buzzing with pain and the need to return, the curse was urging him back already. He got back in the truck and studied the map as he scarfed pain killers, chocolate and soda. He leaned back in his seat and thought hard, made his plans then drove off. He drove most of the night and made it to San Jose at 8 am. It should have taken him about 15 minutes in good traffic but the hour he'd driven had been in the wrong direction and the traffic had been murder, he'd also had to stop twice just to rest, his back hurt like blazes and the over-the-counter pills didn't last very long. So between one thing and another, the drive had taken over three hours. Then it took him almost another hour to find the bus station. He locked his truck, leaned against it for a moment, patted it like a faithful dog left behind and walked away. He wiped his eyes with the heals of his hands, wiped his hands on his jeans and went to the window. “Hello. I'd like a ticket to Denver. How much?” The clerk glanced at a book, said, “Through Las Vegas?” Xander just nodded. “Ok, one bus leaves at 9:15, takes about 32 hours with one transfer, in Vegas another. ..” Xander just shook his head. “That one's fine. How much?” “Non-refundable is 186. That do ya?” “Yeah. Leaves me about thirty dollars. Thanks.” Xander accepted his ticket and shouldered his pack, the bus was leaving in ten minutes. He just handed the already waiting driver his ticket, accepted the stub, transfer ticket and folder and found a seat. He tossed his backpack into the aisle seat and took the window seat. He leaned the seat back and went to sleep, at least asleep he didn't hurt so much. Mentally or physically. . Spike rampaged over the court like a steamroller, every fledge and minion that could escaped. Timmins didn't bother to even go, he knew that there was nothing he could do until Spike calmed down. He decided to just get himself some tea and go to his quarters. He drank his tea and went to bed. Xander was somewhere in a quick stop parking lot, sleeping. Spike returned to his bed room and tossed his clothing into a corner, flopped onto the bed on top of the coverlet and tried to sleep. Xander was pulled over in San Jose, trying to find the bus stop on the map. Spike finally fell asleep, missing the feel of Xander in his arms. Timmins was asleep too, feeling something was off, but his sleeping mind couldn't figure out what. Neither vampire woke until late afternoon the next day. Xander was in Las Vegas. . Spike rubbed his face and realized that he'd made a bad mistake. Xander had been trying to tell him something, he was sure of that. The expression on his face had been enough to make Spike sure of that. And he was sure Xander had some sort of prohibition about belts, he just didn't remember what. “Well, I better see what's what. And call Timmins.” So Spike levered himself out of bed and went in search of Xander and/or Timmins. He didn't find either until he tapped on the door of Timmins' room. Timmins opened the door in his shirtsleeves. “I'm sorry Master, I didn't realize it was so late. I'm nearly dressed, just let me button my sleeves and slip on my coat.” Spike leaned on the door jamb and watched as Timmins made himself presentable. “Ready?” Timmins nodded. “Good, go make some brekkie for my boy. I'll get him up and we'll see what the damage is.” Timmins bowed. “Very well, sir. I'll see if I can fix some of his favorites.” Timmins paused by Xander's door. “Um ... Sir? I don't hear him breathing. Nor any other sound.” Spike didn't give Timmins time to say more. He tried the door but Xander had set the lock on his way out. The door was no match for Spike's vampiric strength, a quick twist convinced the door that it wanted to open. Spike pushed it open and hurried into the room. Xander hadn't made a mess when he packed but a few clues were evident, open, empty drawers, a closet with things tossed on the floor and the dead silence made Spike painfully aware that he'd made a mistake that he was going to pay for. “Timmins, look for my boy.” Timmins just sighed and shook his head. “He's not here. He ran. Dammit! I should have kept a better eye on him. I should have found that cream and returned here instead of ... Well, fuck.” Spike turned to look squarely at Timmins the vampire was a 'gentleman's gentleman' and never swore. “Ok. What?” “He wanted some of that special cream for his back. I never even looked at it, I just went for the cream. You demanded that I get the court assembled, so I did that instead. Then I completely forgot about anything else. I left him unattended. I'm so sorry. I'll accept my punishment.” Spike snarled to himself. It wasn't Timmins' fault that Xander didn't get tended, it was his. “Never mind all that rot. Go look for my boy. I'll search here in case he left a clue. Go!” Timmins went. He searched the entire residence, asking anyone he met if they'd seen Xander. Arnold was the only one who said anything out of line. Timmins put him in a head lock and took him to Spike. “Well? What do you know about my boy? And you'd better 'fess up. I'm in the mood for a spot of torture.” Arnold hung himself with his tongue. “I'm glad he's gone. I spent enough time following him around. All I had to do was wait until the idiot messed up on reading something. That guy never could read worth shit. Then I just gave you the proof you needed to get rid of him. Now I can step up to your side and take the place I was meant to have.” He gave a self-satisfied nod. Spike froze in place for just a second, then he let out a roar of fury that rattled the teeth of everyone near. “YOU WHAT!! I'll ... you ...” Spike found himself reduced to sputtering. He took a deep breath and demanded an explanation. Arnold just announced that he was ready to take his place beside Spike since Xander had taken himself off to parts unknown. Spike nodded. He had a suspicion and sent Timmins to look in the garage. “First things first. You knew Xander is my thrall, do you have any idea what a thrall really is?” “It's just a fancy name for a pet, a slave. Forget him, I'm right here and I'm willing.” Arnold stuck his nose in the air. “And I'm much better than he is. I can take anything you can dish out.” “Don't think so, but maybe we'll see. See, a thrall is much more than just a slave. A thrall is ... bonded to his master. A thrall is loyal, brave, my Xander is more than just a slave, he's a companion for the ages. He's smart, he's tough, he's everything I want ... that you are not. You just want the prestige of being my companion, but if something was to put us in the shit, you'd be gone in a second. Xander will be there for me, no matter what. So what the hell did you do with him?” Spike reached out and grabbed Arnold by the front of his shirt and yanked him close. “I ... I didn't do anything with him. I just waited for him to fuckup and then came to you. As any loyal minion should. He can't read. He's a fuckup, always just one step from tripping on his own feet. You deserve someone better than that loose screw.” “I deserve someone who loves me for myself. Despite the fact that I'm a right bastard when I want to be. As to Xander can't read? Are you insane? He reads at least six languages, demon languages and at least four human ones. All dead, grant you, but still. So what the hell do you mean, he can't read?” “He can't. I saw him walk right by that sign you wrote. He even called it art. He said, 'Why anyone would put art on that door is beyond me.' Then he walked right through the door. He's an idiot.” Spike eyed Arnold and fumed. “And you just let him go? You didn't try to stop him? Even though you knew he was breaking my rules?” “Sure, I'm not his baby sitter. I got my own agenda an' it don't include watchin' out for that ...” Arnold finally realized that the grinding noise he was hearing was Spike growling, and it was getting worse with every word. Spike was about to do something regrettable to Arnold when Timmins came back from the garage. “Master Spike, Xander's truck is gone. The boy who's night watch was at court then went to bed, so he didn't notice that the key-box had been broken into until I asked him where Xander's truck was. I'm going to go back to Xander's rooms and check his closet, but, for now, I'd say he'd actually managed to run away.” Spike snarled, then threw his head back and howled. He waled like a soul in agony. He was in agony, his boy was gone. He turned on Arnold with a snarl, game-faced and raving. “He's gone ... he's gone and it's your fault. You ... you pillock. You wanker. You unmentionable piece of trash.” His language went down the sewer from there. He ranted and raved, blamed it all on Arnold, fate, the weather, anything, anyone but himself. Arnold, by now, was crouched at Spike's feet hoping like hell that Spike forgot about him. Spike didn't, he ended his rant with, “And, as for you, Timmins!” Timmins approached Spike, literally crawling on his knees. “Yes, Master. How may I serve?” “Take this piece of shit and make it regret betraying my boy.” Timmins grimaced at the floor, he wasn't that fond of torture. “That's you punishment for letting my boy get away. Before you go, what did you figure out?” Timmins breathed a sigh of relief, he'd really expected to be dusted for his mistake. “I rechecked the closet. Everything is there, except for some jeans, t-shirts and all his underpants and socks. And a backpack. The money in your desk drawer is gone, as well as all the cash Xander had. That's about 200 or so. He was wearing his work boots, the old ones. Oh, please Master Spike, forgive me my negligence and let me make it up. I'm so sorry, so very sorry.” Spike glared at Timmins for a moment, then snarled, “Oi, ya stupid wanker, get up. Take this piece of shit away and question it. Find out everything it's done to hurt Xander. Report to me when you're done. An' if 'e dusts, tough.” Timmins just grabbed a blubbering Arnold, snarled in his face and dragged him off. Spike never saw him again, nor even thought too much about him. . Xander trudged wearily along the street. Las Vegas was huge, he ought to be able to find a job somewhere. He felt awful, his bond kept pushing him to return to Spike, something he wasn't about to do. He knew it should be much worse, the force of the curse should be stronger. He fingered the collar around his neck and mourned his fate. He'd had it so good, until this. He spotted a sign in a window, it was in Spanish but he could read it well enough to know that they wanted a dishwasher. This he could do. He'd much rather work construction but, if Spike ever figured out where he was, construction jobs were the first places he'd look. “Excuse me? You need a dishwasher? I'd like the job please.” The man glanced at him then looked closer. “We don't want no junkies or drunks. You drink?” Xander shook his head. “Do drugs?” Xander shook his head again. “Speak any Spanish?” “Un poquito. But I'm willing to learn. I can read it better than I speak it.” The man looked him over once more. “You'll have to wear a hair net.” “Fine. I'll need an advance or a place to stay. I've only got about twenty dollars to my name.” “This way. I'll put you right to work and you can come home with me tonight. My wife will put you up but if you cause any trouble I'll kill you, got me?” Xander didn't even blink. “I do. Thanks.” So Xander, the Thrall of the Master of California got a job washing dishes in a tourist trap restaurant in Las Vegas. . Spike went to the garage and searched every inch of it. He found where Xander's truck had been parked, he smelled Xander's scent until he entered the truck. Spike continued to sniff, but all he could smell was oil and gasoline. The truck just smelled like a truck. “Ok, that's a wash. So ... what next? How to track this. Where would he go? Not to the witch, Red's in England anyway. Buffy? No. Giles? ... Yeah, that's where he went. Call ... no, I'll go myself and drag the idiot back. How can he stay away this long? Stubborn idiot, he's got to be hurtin'. I've got to find him.” Spike paced a bit, sensing out the sun. It was still up but near sunset. He would wait it out then go see Giles, he had to at least know where Xander was. Spike paced furiously, impatient to be gone, to find his ... love. Yes, Spike finally realized that he loved Xander. Soulless or not, he could and did love. He wanted his lover back ... now. “Master Spike?” Spike turned to glance at Timmins. “What?” “I have a report to make. I questioned the ... er ... Arnold. I've kept him alive, in case you should have more questions. This is what I learned. Arnold went to school with Young Master Xander and they didn't get along. Arnold has always envied Xander his friends, his opportunities, anything he had, Arnold wanted. Including you. So he schemed and planned, he followed him around and got him into as much trouble as he could. He's a snitch of the worst kind, only reporting part of what he heard and saw, just enough to get the young master into as much trouble as he could. He doesn't know where he went, has no idea what he's done and I'd just as soon dust him as not.” Spike sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Fine, I don't care. I just want to find Xander before the curse floors him. He'll be hurting bad soon. It's all his fault. I should ... dammit!” Spike kicked a nearby wrench and watched as it flew across the room to punch a hole in the roll up door. Timmins just took his unlife in both hands and announced. “Master Spike! Don't dust me until I'm done, please.” Spike glared at him. “I'm not gonna dust ya. I said already. So speak up.” “It's your fault Xander's gone and no one else's. He's got a thing, I believe you call it, against being beaten with a belt. If you remember, he even told you once that, if you belted him, he'd run. You did and he ran.” Spike froze, remembering the conversation. He'd completely misunderstood what Xander was saying. He'd said one thing and Spike had heard another. He let out a soft whimper and collapsed to his knees, keening softly. “My Xander ... My boy ... My love. Find him. Find him.” Timmins glowered around but found that all the faces looking at them only showed upset and concern. He lifted his master to his unsteady feet and led him into his quarters, whispering soft words of comfort as they went. He managed to get Spike into bed and turned out the lights. “Go to sleep for a while. I'll see what I can find out. I'll call the Watcher and ask him if Xander's there. I'll try everything I know how to find him. Sleep awhile.” Spike just pulled the covers over his head and moaned. He was devastated by the realization that he was the one responsible for Xander running off. Timmins made a call to Tara, who agreed to come at once. The next call he was dreading a great deal, he wished he could put off the call to Giles but he knew better. This call was the unmitigated disaster he was expecting, Xander wasn't there and Timmins had to tell Giles that he'd run off. Giles did not take the news at all well but he just said he'd be over as soon as he could. The tone of his voice was calm, overlaying a fury that even frightened Timmins. Giles hung up the phone and calmly packed a small bag. He made arrangements with The Order of Taraka to pack up the rest of his things. They'd asked him to become one of Spike's advisers and he'd been considering it, now he was sure. He'd take the job. Buffy really didn't need or want him anymore and he could do much more good working for Spike. After he kicked his ass, that is.

Previous

Main Index

Ulterior Motives Index

Next

Web Page Design by S.A. McUmber-House

Copyright 2004, 2005 - all rights reserved

Last updated 1/15/2006