![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
And some other stuff. Like, for instance, i despise my state right now. Well, okay, maybe not my state but the jerks who are in office. They want to make an official state religion!!! Assholes.
Luckily there are some xians out there who are as horrified as the rest of us.
And all that blather about how it's 'not a law, just an opinion poll'... I don't want lawmakers and whatnot running my state who think it's a good idea to even *contemplate* a 'state religion'! Gah!
*sporks them all*
Let's see, what else? Ah, yis.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
witling. She has once again written something that makes me go all happy and shivery and 'wish i could write like *that*'... Go read Land of the Lost and see if you don't agree.
I've just posted another Supernatural ficlet over in the challenge comm,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kaz2y5. Have a look. Those boys just keep getting more interesting. :) Blood.
I'm also hating TV a lot right now, but mostly because the networks just keep screwing around with air times and days and all that. Makes me wanna just download off the 'net and buy the DVD's when they come out and *never turn the tv on again*!! Sheesh.
And now that i've babbled on and on, here's the fic!reremouse helped whip it into shape, and darkhavens of course made sure of all things Brit. Of course, any little error you see...tell me! I like things to be right. Or as close as possible.
Previous parts are here.
Enjoy!
Waking up with an immediate sense of 'something's wrong' was fairly typical for Spike, but usually only on the job. Ensconced in a comfy flat in London was as far as you could get from a job or typical, and Spike sat up fast, looking to his left and registering the empty mattress in seconds.
"Xander?" No reply, but Spike could hear water running in the kitchen and he got up and walked carefully that way. The little light over the sink was on - the taps were both open, wisps of steam coming up from the stream of water. "Xander?" A sense of déjà vu came over Spike as he crouched down and looked under the kitchen table.
Xander looked back. His arms were wet to the elbows and he was scrubbing at the back of his left hand with a little brush. "Doing it again, it's doing it again and there's - look, there's all this blood, all this - blood -" Xander stopped scrubbing and swiped at the medallion, wincing when his fingers touched it.
"Doing what again? Xander?"
"K-k-illing another one, doing it again, just like the ff-first one, second one, third one but I was already - empty - it was the first one all over again and now - now -" Xander stared down at his hands - started scrubbing again, hard, and Spike could see the skin over his knuckles going red - looking raw.
"It's not -" real, Spike wanted to say, but it was - of course it was. Still connected to the demon and it was killing again, somewhere. And Xander was - seeing it. Living it, for fuck's sake. Or somehow the demon was letting him have some of his own memories back. Showing them like some obscene movie in Xander's head. "Come out from there, all right? Come out and we'll -"
"Can't fix it, Spike! I know that, you know; can't fix what I did but I had to do it, she was...she was all - torn and -" Xander looked up from his hands, a streak of shed tears like quicksilver down his face. Agony, in that drowning gaze. "It lasts longer if she does and she was so - f-fucking strong and I - I had to... Oh god!"
Xander scrambled out from under the table, ramming Spike hard with his shoulder and knocking him sprawling to the floor. Xander flung the brush onto the counter and leaned over the sink, heaving. He coughed - choked - vomited again and then hung there, panting. Spitting again and again and finally cupping water in a shaking hand and rinsing his mouth. Spike pushed himself slowly to his feet as Xander splashed some water around in the sink - looked up, finally, his face a sickly pale green. His gaze wrong - too distant, not quite focused. Not quite there.
"Ss-spike, god, it's...it's everywhere, all over, it's -" Xander ducked his head and coughed and then he looked down at himself and jerked upright. "Oh no, no, no no!" He hauled clumsily at his shirt, yanking it off over his head and throwing it to the floor - staring down at himself in horror. "Blood everywhere, god, did you know people had so much blood inside?" He tugged distractedly at the bracelet on his wrist. "That's got blood in it, too - rotting from it... Spike -" Xander said, and his voice was high and wavering and half choked. "Did you know how much blood people had?"
"Course I did, mate. Vampire, me, remember?" Spike moved slowly, not sure what to do. Wanting to pull Xander away from the sink and out of the kitchen but afraid of spooking him. "Now you've got to stop, Xander." Spike stood there, feeling completely useless as Xander snatched the brush back up and started scrubbing again. Scrubbing his arms and chest and hissing in surprised pain when he touched what looked like a burn across his sternum. Spike frowned at the mark. It was just under where the medallion fell and as Xander frantically scrubbed, the medallion touched his chest and he flinched. *Fuck. It's hurting him because it'd hurt the demon...that's probably what brought this on, oh damnit, Xander, sorry...*
"Yeah, you'd know, you're a demon, too but you don't have - it's not - fuck, Spike, help me!" Xander clutched at Spike's shoulder, his hand warm from the water - eerily strong. His knuckles were bleeding. "I can't get it off and Giles is gonna - gonna ss-ee it, he's gonna know -"
"Know what? What's he going to know?" Spike knocked the brush out of Xander's other hand and grabbed his wrists - pulled him around so they were face to face and Xander struggled for a moment, panting - crying, his voice getting shriller and water dripping off his elbows.
"Know what I did, he'll know what I did, had to d-do, had to, had to!" Xander's voice rose to a shriek and Spike shook him, hard.
"Stop it! Tell me what you mean!"
"I had to kill her! I had to kill her, god, Spike, I had to kill her and she was l-looking at me, she was looking at me and she was - she was smiling!" The last was a drawn-out wail and Xander jerked in Spike's hold and Spike let him go - watched him sink to the floor, his arms coming up to wrap around his head. Muffling the hoarse, coughing sobs that jolted their way out of him.
"Bugger," Spike muttered. He didn't do comfort. Well, he'd done it for Dru but she was easily distracted with a bit of violence or a necklace or sex. None of which would work with Xander, more's the pity. Spike crouched down, wrist locked in the circle of his fingers. Hesitating. If what Xander said was true - if what he was seeing or remembering was real and not something the demon was just - tormenting him with... *It'll gut him when he really remembers everything. If he killed one of his girls. If what that thing did made it the only bloody option. Fucking hell, he was there, with it and the girls and it let him go... Why'd it let him go?*
"Spike -" Whisper of a word from Xander and Spike shook his head, dismissing all his speculations for the moment. "Spike, please don't t-tell Giles I..."
"Bloody hell, Xander, that's not important right now!"
"Yes it is!" Xander's head came up fast, his arms clenching around his shoulders, his face wet and pale and flushed hectic red at the cheeks. His eye red-rimmed and pleading. The empty socket wept as well, dark lashes clumped together against his cheek. "He'll think...he'll -"
"Who gives a fuck what a he thinks? None of this is your doing, Xander, none of it." Spike finally gave up - gave in. Unlocked his hand from the bruising grip on his wrist and reached out. Stroked his fingers carefully through Xander's sweat-damp hair and down his neck, where he let his thumb gently rub the soft skin just under the hinge of Xander's jaw. Brush over and over the fluttering jump of Xander's pulse while his fingers slipped through the dark hair at the back of Xander's head. Xander just stared at him, looking cold and defeated and lost. The medallion swung a little and Spike frowned at it.
"Slip that off, all right? That chain. Think it's doing more harm than good." Xander fumbled with the clasp and let the chain slither off his neck. Spike took it from his hand and laid it above them on the counter where it slipped with a hissing rattle into the sink. "Should get you back in bed," Spike said softly, still gently stroking Xander's hair, and Xander took a huge breath, his expression going from misery to confusion to resignation.
"I didn't hurt you this time, did I?"
"Eh?"
Xander reached up and trapped Spike's hand under his, squeezing softly. "When I - I was dreaming again just now, wasn't I? It's...blurry. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No. Didn't hurt me one bit."
"Good," Xander said, soft sigh of a word, and he leaned forward, his other hand coming up to wrap around Spike's bicep and tug, ever so slightly. Spike let himself be moved - let his forehead lightly touch Xander's and they leaned there for a minute.
"Is it true?" Xander whispered, and Spike closed his eyes for a moment.
"I - I dunno. Might just be - what the demon wants you to think is true."
"Felt...true," Xander said, and Spike sighed.
"I just don't know, Xander." Xander shivered and Spike pulled reluctantly away. "Come on and get back into bed, you're freezing."
"I'm all wet. I need a towel." Xander let Spike haul him upright - stood there for a moment with his cold fingers on Spike's arms - his hip pushing at Spike's and his knee just touching. Wet, bare feet next to Spike's and the damp leg of his sweats radiating chill.
"Need another bloody hot shower, is what you need," Spike muttered, and Xander smiled a tiny, twisted little smile.
"If I wasn't feeling like I might puke again at any minute, I'd invite you to share," he said, the matter-of-factness in his voice making Spike blink for a moment, dazed.
"You'd regret it, mate."
"Would I?" Xander reached up and ran shaky fingers through Spike's hair - brushed the callused pad of his thumb over the scar through Spike's eyebrow, making Spike shiver. "Have to tell me the story behind that one of these days." His smile got a little stronger and he took a step back - stepped around, and headed for the bathroom.
Spike just stood there, breathing slowly. Breathing in the lingering salt and iron scent of Xander's blood - the scent of sweat and endorphins and skin, which on Xander was earthy and rich and had an edge of something like sun-ripened grass. Good scents, that urged him to follow Xander down the hall - slip into the shower and...
*And get myself staked come spell-breaking time. Or at least blamed, and I'm sodding tired of taking the blame.* Spike turned the taps off with a wrench and went back to the couch - lay down and pulled the blankets up and buried himself in a drift of pillows. When Xander finally came back and slipped in beside him, he very nearly pretended to be asleep. But that wasn't fair, and it wasn't...bloody...right. Spike snarled into the darkness and nearly yelled when a warm, heavy hand slipped over his ribs.
"Thanks for - helping me, Spike. For waking me up."
Spike blinked - breathed - let his own hand settle carefully over Xander's. "S'what friends do, Xander. That's all."
"Sure. All." The mattress shook a little as Xander shifted and his toes curled into the arch of Spike's feet. "I feel like I should - say a prayer or something but... I don't remember any prayers."
"Don't you? I don't know too many, myself." Spike rubbed the pads of his fingers over Xander's nails - over the rough cuticles and bitten edges, thinking. "My nanny used to say this one to me. Suppose it'll do. 'From ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggity beasties, and things that go bump in the night - Good Lord, deliver us.'"
"Huh."
Another shift, and a warm knee socketed gingerly in behind Spike's and Spike found he was grinning madly into the darkness of the flat. "She was a barmy old Scot - kept bundles of thistle over the windows and a jar of nails under her bed. But that's where she died, safe and sound."
"Guess it works, then." One last tiny shift and a sigh, and Xander's breath was warm over the back of Spike's neck. "G'night, beastie."
A hesitation, and then Spike sighed his own sigh, relaxing. "Night, Xander."
"No, it's okay, really. I...uh...I'm fine."
"It's just - I was having one of those days, you know? The kind where you feel like kicking puppies and I hadn't heard anything for - two days and - and Giles called and said you were in London with Spike and I was just... I was really upset."
*What in bloody hell?* Spike rolled over on the bed, fixing a questioning look on Xander who was sitting up against the back, picking at the little pills on the blanket over his legs. He looked tired. *Willow. Again. Damnit.*
"Yeah, well - it's...okay, I mean - guess it was kind of a - a shock and...everything... I get why you were - upset."
"She was upset," Spike muttered, and Xander frowned at him. "She should have come up here and checked on her best friend in person if she was so bloody upset!" Spike snapped, loud, and Xander covered the mic on the phone.
"Spike! She can hear you!"
"Bloody well hope so!"
"Is that Spike? Is he there? Why is Spike there? Xander, you two don't - I mean...you're not like - best buds, you know? You don't - um - loan him money or anything. Ever."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Spike flung the covers back and stomped into the kitchen to find his smokes, deliberately tuning out whatever Xander was saying. He dug his cigarettes out of his coat and lit up, puffing hard. The light was still on over the sink and he stepped over to it - looked down at the medallion that lay in the bottom, chain half-slipping into the drain. Spike plucked it out and held it up into the diffused, early-afternoon light that was coming through the kitchen curtains. It looked - tarnished. Darker. He dropped it into a coat pocket and stomped back out into the living room just as Xander was hanging up.
"And thank you very much for all that - drama! She was just apologizing."
"And being a right git about it, too."
Xander put the phone down on the end table and rubbed his eye. "I told her you hadn't tried to borrow any money."
"Bloody hell. I don't need your money - got plenty of my own. Think I do my jobs for free? She doesn't have a bloody clue." Spike flung himself down onto the bed and blew a lungful of smoke at the ceiling and Xander sighed and lay his head down on the back of the couch.
"You know, that kind of made me think... I mean, my wallet's gone - should I be like - calling credit card companies or something? Do I have money?"
"Course you do. Got a nest-egg that'd choke a horse. Andrew took care of all the - other stuff." Spike tapped cigarette ash into his palm. "He said he'd have new I.D and a passport and stuff for you in - couple weeks. Cancelled your bank card and all that. Our Mr. Fix-it, Andrew is."
"Andrew... Have I talked to him?"
"Nope. He's been out and about 'gathering intel'. He called a couple days ago when you were in the shower, told me about the passport and stuff. Oh." Spike glanced sheepishly up at Xander but Xander was still staring at the ceiling. "Guess I forgot to pass on the word. Sorry 'bout that."
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, it's cool. Not like I need anything right now. I'll - uh - pay you back for all the food and stuff."
Spike felt himself going stiff and he sat up, forgetting his hand was full of ashes and smearing them on the sheet. "That's not - I don't care about - damnit, Xander, I don't -"
"Hey, it's cool. You said we weren't friends and so did Willow -"
"Fuck her -"
"Guess you two aren't friends, either?"
"Fuck this." Spike slid off the bed and stood up - dropped his cigarette into an empty beer bottle and started hunting up his jeans. "No, I'm not bloody friends with the witch or Andrew or Rupert. I'm not friends with any of you, and it must be bloody true since Willow said, mustn't it?" Finding his jeans under the bed, he yanked them on - buttoned them up and jerked his t-shirt on, furious and shaking. He'd gone through enough of shite like this when he'd first come on to the Council - had enough people looking at him sideways and down and now Xander going there - was just too much. "I only died for all of you and the bloody world and was tortured by a hell-god for little sis and hurt myself on that bloody chip for Willow's girl, back when she was still alive and -"
"Hey! Hey, Spike - stop. Stop." Xander's hands on his shoulders pulled Spike upright from digging his socks out of his boots and Spike jerked away and then stood there, teeth gritted and fists curled. "Listen, I - I don't know why I - I mean..." Xander put both hands in his hair and scrubbed for a second, eye squeezed shut.
"Listen, okay? I don't know why I even...said anything. I'm just -" Xander let his hands fall to his sides, opening his eye to stare at Spike. "I'm kind of freaked out a little still. About...everything. About me and demons and...dead people. Okay? I'm sorry I said that."
"Bloody well should be," Spike muttered, but he let his socks drop to the floor, his fury subsiding a little.
"I am, okay?" Xander sighed - gave a small laugh as if something were just occurring to him. "You know, you keep saying you're not my friend but I think it's just...a cover."
"A cover. For what, exactly?" Spike asked, glaring. Wishing he'd turned the bloody phone off and they were still curled up in the bed and none of this mess had ever happened.
"Oh, I dunno." Xander took a step closer - then another one, looking Spike up and down. Getting into his space right proper, warm scent of his skin and the organic shampoo he'd bought at the shop. "Maybe 'cause you...really are? I mean - saved my life, got tortured, came and got me in that hospital... I think -" Xander's hand rested flat and heavy on Spike's chest - moved just a little, as if he were smoothing out the wrinkles in the t-shirt Spike hadn't bothered to change for fresh. "I think maybe you're upset because you are my friend and you just - don't want to admit it." Xander's expression was serious - almost remote, as if he were thinking very hard about - something. Spike felt curiously emptied out. Thinking of nothing at all, just...watching. Feeling.
Another step closer, warm thigh bumping Spike's - warm hand creeping out and curling over his hip and then...warm, warm lips, lightly brushing over his own. Fingers sliding up and up until they were sliding around his shoulder and tugging him closer and Spike just stood still. Closed his eyes and opened his mouth a little and let Xander slowly, carefully kiss him.
As if he were made of something breakable. As if he were - fragile, or at least as if he were something not to be spoiled and Spike gasped in a hard, almost hurting breath and turned his head away - let his forehead go down to rest on Xander's shoulder and let Xander's hands stroke gently up his back.
"You're shaking."
"I'm bloody - angry."
"No you're not," Xander said, and Spike could hear the smile in his voice.
"You don't know. Don't know a bloody thing."
"Oh, sure. I know all kinds of things. You smoke filterless Marlboros even when you have to tear the filters off yourself and you like really spicy food and your favorite movies have explosions and blood and gore unless they're weird Italian things with lots of soft-core sex and no plot -"
"Hey! There was a plot -"
"Shhh." Xander's fingers rubbed a little harder, up and down Spike's spine. His chin bumped the side of Spike's neck and his lips brushed for a moment over the edge of Spike's ear. "Just hush. I know the important stuff. You came for me. You protected me. You worry about me and you're taking care of me and you don't actually...have to."
Another soft press of Xander's lips that sent a shiver over Spike's skin and he inched his hands up - slid them across soft cotton until his arms were wrapped around Xander's ribs. "Well, got a job to do, haven't I?"
"Yeah, sure. Job. That's what this is." The smile in Xander's voice was a laugh now but Spike just - didn't care. It felt too damn good. Heat and the solid press of muscle and bone - the hypnotizing thump-thump of Xander's heart and the slow, soothing rub of his hands. Spike wanted to protest - wanted to tell Xander this really was nothing. That in a few days the demon would be dead and the old Xander would be back and...
"Stop thinking about stuff and just..."
"Just what?" Spike asked, finally lifting his head - tipping it a little to one side and studying Xander's expression, which was one of quiet satisfaction.
"Just kiss me back. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
ETA: Someone nominated me over at The Spander Awards. Thank you so much, whomever was a busy bee and did that! Outstanding Author, Best Overall Spander and Best Darkfic. Except the Darkfic nomination is incorrect and i can't seem to get them to fix it. *Name of the fic is mangled and the link is wrong*. Ah well. Thank you thank you!
ETA2: Finally, it's been fixed! :)
Luckily there are some xians out there who are as horrified as the rest of us.
And all that blather about how it's 'not a law, just an opinion poll'... I don't want lawmakers and whatnot running my state who think it's a good idea to even *contemplate* a 'state religion'! Gah!
*sporks them all*
Let's see, what else? Ah, yis.
witling. She has once again written something that makes me go all happy and shivery and 'wish i could write like *that*'... Go read Land of the Lost and see if you don't agree.I've just posted another Supernatural ficlet over in the challenge comm,
kaz2y5. Have a look. Those boys just keep getting more interesting. :) Blood.I'm also hating TV a lot right now, but mostly because the networks just keep screwing around with air times and days and all that. Makes me wanna just download off the 'net and buy the DVD's when they come out and *never turn the tv on again*!! Sheesh.
And now that i've babbled on and on, here's the fic!
reremouse helped whip it into shape, and darkhavens of course made sure of all things Brit. Of course, any little error you see...tell me! I like things to be right. Or as close as possible.Previous parts are here.
Enjoy!
Waking up with an immediate sense of 'something's wrong' was fairly typical for Spike, but usually only on the job. Ensconced in a comfy flat in London was as far as you could get from a job or typical, and Spike sat up fast, looking to his left and registering the empty mattress in seconds.
"Xander?" No reply, but Spike could hear water running in the kitchen and he got up and walked carefully that way. The little light over the sink was on - the taps were both open, wisps of steam coming up from the stream of water. "Xander?" A sense of déjà vu came over Spike as he crouched down and looked under the kitchen table.
Xander looked back. His arms were wet to the elbows and he was scrubbing at the back of his left hand with a little brush. "Doing it again, it's doing it again and there's - look, there's all this blood, all this - blood -" Xander stopped scrubbing and swiped at the medallion, wincing when his fingers touched it.
"Doing what again? Xander?"
"K-k-illing another one, doing it again, just like the ff-first one, second one, third one but I was already - empty - it was the first one all over again and now - now -" Xander stared down at his hands - started scrubbing again, hard, and Spike could see the skin over his knuckles going red - looking raw.
"It's not -" real, Spike wanted to say, but it was - of course it was. Still connected to the demon and it was killing again, somewhere. And Xander was - seeing it. Living it, for fuck's sake. Or somehow the demon was letting him have some of his own memories back. Showing them like some obscene movie in Xander's head. "Come out from there, all right? Come out and we'll -"
"Can't fix it, Spike! I know that, you know; can't fix what I did but I had to do it, she was...she was all - torn and -" Xander looked up from his hands, a streak of shed tears like quicksilver down his face. Agony, in that drowning gaze. "It lasts longer if she does and she was so - f-fucking strong and I - I had to... Oh god!"
Xander scrambled out from under the table, ramming Spike hard with his shoulder and knocking him sprawling to the floor. Xander flung the brush onto the counter and leaned over the sink, heaving. He coughed - choked - vomited again and then hung there, panting. Spitting again and again and finally cupping water in a shaking hand and rinsing his mouth. Spike pushed himself slowly to his feet as Xander splashed some water around in the sink - looked up, finally, his face a sickly pale green. His gaze wrong - too distant, not quite focused. Not quite there.
"Ss-spike, god, it's...it's everywhere, all over, it's -" Xander ducked his head and coughed and then he looked down at himself and jerked upright. "Oh no, no, no no!" He hauled clumsily at his shirt, yanking it off over his head and throwing it to the floor - staring down at himself in horror. "Blood everywhere, god, did you know people had so much blood inside?" He tugged distractedly at the bracelet on his wrist. "That's got blood in it, too - rotting from it... Spike -" Xander said, and his voice was high and wavering and half choked. "Did you know how much blood people had?"
"Course I did, mate. Vampire, me, remember?" Spike moved slowly, not sure what to do. Wanting to pull Xander away from the sink and out of the kitchen but afraid of spooking him. "Now you've got to stop, Xander." Spike stood there, feeling completely useless as Xander snatched the brush back up and started scrubbing again. Scrubbing his arms and chest and hissing in surprised pain when he touched what looked like a burn across his sternum. Spike frowned at the mark. It was just under where the medallion fell and as Xander frantically scrubbed, the medallion touched his chest and he flinched. *Fuck. It's hurting him because it'd hurt the demon...that's probably what brought this on, oh damnit, Xander, sorry...*
"Yeah, you'd know, you're a demon, too but you don't have - it's not - fuck, Spike, help me!" Xander clutched at Spike's shoulder, his hand warm from the water - eerily strong. His knuckles were bleeding. "I can't get it off and Giles is gonna - gonna ss-ee it, he's gonna know -"
"Know what? What's he going to know?" Spike knocked the brush out of Xander's other hand and grabbed his wrists - pulled him around so they were face to face and Xander struggled for a moment, panting - crying, his voice getting shriller and water dripping off his elbows.
"Know what I did, he'll know what I did, had to d-do, had to, had to!" Xander's voice rose to a shriek and Spike shook him, hard.
"Stop it! Tell me what you mean!"
"I had to kill her! I had to kill her, god, Spike, I had to kill her and she was l-looking at me, she was looking at me and she was - she was smiling!" The last was a drawn-out wail and Xander jerked in Spike's hold and Spike let him go - watched him sink to the floor, his arms coming up to wrap around his head. Muffling the hoarse, coughing sobs that jolted their way out of him.
"Bugger," Spike muttered. He didn't do comfort. Well, he'd done it for Dru but she was easily distracted with a bit of violence or a necklace or sex. None of which would work with Xander, more's the pity. Spike crouched down, wrist locked in the circle of his fingers. Hesitating. If what Xander said was true - if what he was seeing or remembering was real and not something the demon was just - tormenting him with... *It'll gut him when he really remembers everything. If he killed one of his girls. If what that thing did made it the only bloody option. Fucking hell, he was there, with it and the girls and it let him go... Why'd it let him go?*
"Spike -" Whisper of a word from Xander and Spike shook his head, dismissing all his speculations for the moment. "Spike, please don't t-tell Giles I..."
"Bloody hell, Xander, that's not important right now!"
"Yes it is!" Xander's head came up fast, his arms clenching around his shoulders, his face wet and pale and flushed hectic red at the cheeks. His eye red-rimmed and pleading. The empty socket wept as well, dark lashes clumped together against his cheek. "He'll think...he'll -"
"Who gives a fuck what a he thinks? None of this is your doing, Xander, none of it." Spike finally gave up - gave in. Unlocked his hand from the bruising grip on his wrist and reached out. Stroked his fingers carefully through Xander's sweat-damp hair and down his neck, where he let his thumb gently rub the soft skin just under the hinge of Xander's jaw. Brush over and over the fluttering jump of Xander's pulse while his fingers slipped through the dark hair at the back of Xander's head. Xander just stared at him, looking cold and defeated and lost. The medallion swung a little and Spike frowned at it.
"Slip that off, all right? That chain. Think it's doing more harm than good." Xander fumbled with the clasp and let the chain slither off his neck. Spike took it from his hand and laid it above them on the counter where it slipped with a hissing rattle into the sink. "Should get you back in bed," Spike said softly, still gently stroking Xander's hair, and Xander took a huge breath, his expression going from misery to confusion to resignation.
"I didn't hurt you this time, did I?"
"Eh?"
Xander reached up and trapped Spike's hand under his, squeezing softly. "When I - I was dreaming again just now, wasn't I? It's...blurry. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No. Didn't hurt me one bit."
"Good," Xander said, soft sigh of a word, and he leaned forward, his other hand coming up to wrap around Spike's bicep and tug, ever so slightly. Spike let himself be moved - let his forehead lightly touch Xander's and they leaned there for a minute.
"Is it true?" Xander whispered, and Spike closed his eyes for a moment.
"I - I dunno. Might just be - what the demon wants you to think is true."
"Felt...true," Xander said, and Spike sighed.
"I just don't know, Xander." Xander shivered and Spike pulled reluctantly away. "Come on and get back into bed, you're freezing."
"I'm all wet. I need a towel." Xander let Spike haul him upright - stood there for a moment with his cold fingers on Spike's arms - his hip pushing at Spike's and his knee just touching. Wet, bare feet next to Spike's and the damp leg of his sweats radiating chill.
"Need another bloody hot shower, is what you need," Spike muttered, and Xander smiled a tiny, twisted little smile.
"If I wasn't feeling like I might puke again at any minute, I'd invite you to share," he said, the matter-of-factness in his voice making Spike blink for a moment, dazed.
"You'd regret it, mate."
"Would I?" Xander reached up and ran shaky fingers through Spike's hair - brushed the callused pad of his thumb over the scar through Spike's eyebrow, making Spike shiver. "Have to tell me the story behind that one of these days." His smile got a little stronger and he took a step back - stepped around, and headed for the bathroom.
Spike just stood there, breathing slowly. Breathing in the lingering salt and iron scent of Xander's blood - the scent of sweat and endorphins and skin, which on Xander was earthy and rich and had an edge of something like sun-ripened grass. Good scents, that urged him to follow Xander down the hall - slip into the shower and...
*And get myself staked come spell-breaking time. Or at least blamed, and I'm sodding tired of taking the blame.* Spike turned the taps off with a wrench and went back to the couch - lay down and pulled the blankets up and buried himself in a drift of pillows. When Xander finally came back and slipped in beside him, he very nearly pretended to be asleep. But that wasn't fair, and it wasn't...bloody...right. Spike snarled into the darkness and nearly yelled when a warm, heavy hand slipped over his ribs.
"Thanks for - helping me, Spike. For waking me up."
Spike blinked - breathed - let his own hand settle carefully over Xander's. "S'what friends do, Xander. That's all."
"Sure. All." The mattress shook a little as Xander shifted and his toes curled into the arch of Spike's feet. "I feel like I should - say a prayer or something but... I don't remember any prayers."
"Don't you? I don't know too many, myself." Spike rubbed the pads of his fingers over Xander's nails - over the rough cuticles and bitten edges, thinking. "My nanny used to say this one to me. Suppose it'll do. 'From ghosties and ghoulies and long-leggity beasties, and things that go bump in the night - Good Lord, deliver us.'"
"Huh."
Another shift, and a warm knee socketed gingerly in behind Spike's and Spike found he was grinning madly into the darkness of the flat. "She was a barmy old Scot - kept bundles of thistle over the windows and a jar of nails under her bed. But that's where she died, safe and sound."
"Guess it works, then." One last tiny shift and a sigh, and Xander's breath was warm over the back of Spike's neck. "G'night, beastie."
A hesitation, and then Spike sighed his own sigh, relaxing. "Night, Xander."
"No, it's okay, really. I...uh...I'm fine."
"It's just - I was having one of those days, you know? The kind where you feel like kicking puppies and I hadn't heard anything for - two days and - and Giles called and said you were in London with Spike and I was just... I was really upset."
*What in bloody hell?* Spike rolled over on the bed, fixing a questioning look on Xander who was sitting up against the back, picking at the little pills on the blanket over his legs. He looked tired. *Willow. Again. Damnit.*
"Yeah, well - it's...okay, I mean - guess it was kind of a - a shock and...everything... I get why you were - upset."
"She was upset," Spike muttered, and Xander frowned at him. "She should have come up here and checked on her best friend in person if she was so bloody upset!" Spike snapped, loud, and Xander covered the mic on the phone.
"Spike! She can hear you!"
"Bloody well hope so!"
"Is that Spike? Is he there? Why is Spike there? Xander, you two don't - I mean...you're not like - best buds, you know? You don't - um - loan him money or anything. Ever."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Spike flung the covers back and stomped into the kitchen to find his smokes, deliberately tuning out whatever Xander was saying. He dug his cigarettes out of his coat and lit up, puffing hard. The light was still on over the sink and he stepped over to it - looked down at the medallion that lay in the bottom, chain half-slipping into the drain. Spike plucked it out and held it up into the diffused, early-afternoon light that was coming through the kitchen curtains. It looked - tarnished. Darker. He dropped it into a coat pocket and stomped back out into the living room just as Xander was hanging up.
"And thank you very much for all that - drama! She was just apologizing."
"And being a right git about it, too."
Xander put the phone down on the end table and rubbed his eye. "I told her you hadn't tried to borrow any money."
"Bloody hell. I don't need your money - got plenty of my own. Think I do my jobs for free? She doesn't have a bloody clue." Spike flung himself down onto the bed and blew a lungful of smoke at the ceiling and Xander sighed and lay his head down on the back of the couch.
"You know, that kind of made me think... I mean, my wallet's gone - should I be like - calling credit card companies or something? Do I have money?"
"Course you do. Got a nest-egg that'd choke a horse. Andrew took care of all the - other stuff." Spike tapped cigarette ash into his palm. "He said he'd have new I.D and a passport and stuff for you in - couple weeks. Cancelled your bank card and all that. Our Mr. Fix-it, Andrew is."
"Andrew... Have I talked to him?"
"Nope. He's been out and about 'gathering intel'. He called a couple days ago when you were in the shower, told me about the passport and stuff. Oh." Spike glanced sheepishly up at Xander but Xander was still staring at the ceiling. "Guess I forgot to pass on the word. Sorry 'bout that."
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, it's cool. Not like I need anything right now. I'll - uh - pay you back for all the food and stuff."
Spike felt himself going stiff and he sat up, forgetting his hand was full of ashes and smearing them on the sheet. "That's not - I don't care about - damnit, Xander, I don't -"
"Hey, it's cool. You said we weren't friends and so did Willow -"
"Fuck her -"
"Guess you two aren't friends, either?"
"Fuck this." Spike slid off the bed and stood up - dropped his cigarette into an empty beer bottle and started hunting up his jeans. "No, I'm not bloody friends with the witch or Andrew or Rupert. I'm not friends with any of you, and it must be bloody true since Willow said, mustn't it?" Finding his jeans under the bed, he yanked them on - buttoned them up and jerked his t-shirt on, furious and shaking. He'd gone through enough of shite like this when he'd first come on to the Council - had enough people looking at him sideways and down and now Xander going there - was just too much. "I only died for all of you and the bloody world and was tortured by a hell-god for little sis and hurt myself on that bloody chip for Willow's girl, back when she was still alive and -"
"Hey! Hey, Spike - stop. Stop." Xander's hands on his shoulders pulled Spike upright from digging his socks out of his boots and Spike jerked away and then stood there, teeth gritted and fists curled. "Listen, I - I don't know why I - I mean..." Xander put both hands in his hair and scrubbed for a second, eye squeezed shut.
"Listen, okay? I don't know why I even...said anything. I'm just -" Xander let his hands fall to his sides, opening his eye to stare at Spike. "I'm kind of freaked out a little still. About...everything. About me and demons and...dead people. Okay? I'm sorry I said that."
"Bloody well should be," Spike muttered, but he let his socks drop to the floor, his fury subsiding a little.
"I am, okay?" Xander sighed - gave a small laugh as if something were just occurring to him. "You know, you keep saying you're not my friend but I think it's just...a cover."
"A cover. For what, exactly?" Spike asked, glaring. Wishing he'd turned the bloody phone off and they were still curled up in the bed and none of this mess had ever happened.
"Oh, I dunno." Xander took a step closer - then another one, looking Spike up and down. Getting into his space right proper, warm scent of his skin and the organic shampoo he'd bought at the shop. "Maybe 'cause you...really are? I mean - saved my life, got tortured, came and got me in that hospital... I think -" Xander's hand rested flat and heavy on Spike's chest - moved just a little, as if he were smoothing out the wrinkles in the t-shirt Spike hadn't bothered to change for fresh. "I think maybe you're upset because you are my friend and you just - don't want to admit it." Xander's expression was serious - almost remote, as if he were thinking very hard about - something. Spike felt curiously emptied out. Thinking of nothing at all, just...watching. Feeling.
Another step closer, warm thigh bumping Spike's - warm hand creeping out and curling over his hip and then...warm, warm lips, lightly brushing over his own. Fingers sliding up and up until they were sliding around his shoulder and tugging him closer and Spike just stood still. Closed his eyes and opened his mouth a little and let Xander slowly, carefully kiss him.
As if he were made of something breakable. As if he were - fragile, or at least as if he were something not to be spoiled and Spike gasped in a hard, almost hurting breath and turned his head away - let his forehead go down to rest on Xander's shoulder and let Xander's hands stroke gently up his back.
"You're shaking."
"I'm bloody - angry."
"No you're not," Xander said, and Spike could hear the smile in his voice.
"You don't know. Don't know a bloody thing."
"Oh, sure. I know all kinds of things. You smoke filterless Marlboros even when you have to tear the filters off yourself and you like really spicy food and your favorite movies have explosions and blood and gore unless they're weird Italian things with lots of soft-core sex and no plot -"
"Hey! There was a plot -"
"Shhh." Xander's fingers rubbed a little harder, up and down Spike's spine. His chin bumped the side of Spike's neck and his lips brushed for a moment over the edge of Spike's ear. "Just hush. I know the important stuff. You came for me. You protected me. You worry about me and you're taking care of me and you don't actually...have to."
Another soft press of Xander's lips that sent a shiver over Spike's skin and he inched his hands up - slid them across soft cotton until his arms were wrapped around Xander's ribs. "Well, got a job to do, haven't I?"
"Yeah, sure. Job. That's what this is." The smile in Xander's voice was a laugh now but Spike just - didn't care. It felt too damn good. Heat and the solid press of muscle and bone - the hypnotizing thump-thump of Xander's heart and the slow, soothing rub of his hands. Spike wanted to protest - wanted to tell Xander this really was nothing. That in a few days the demon would be dead and the old Xander would be back and...
"Stop thinking about stuff and just..."
"Just what?" Spike asked, finally lifting his head - tipping it a little to one side and studying Xander's expression, which was one of quiet satisfaction.
"Just kiss me back. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
ETA: Someone nominated me over at The Spander Awards. Thank you so much, whomever was a busy bee and did that! Outstanding Author, Best Overall Spander and Best Darkfic. Except the Darkfic nomination is incorrect and i can't seem to get them to fix it. *Name of the fic is mangled and the link is wrong*. Ah well. Thank you thank you!
ETA2: Finally, it's been fixed! :)
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