As If We Should Forget We Have No Hands - Part Eight *s/x*

[tabaqui]

Yes! More!
Heh.

It's gotten *cold* again here. My damn electric bill is through the roof and frankly, i'm sick of it. I suspect my water heater needs replaced. Gah. On a lighter note, perhaps we'll get snow? Since it's predicted just north of us.
On a bummer note - No sweptawaybayou this week! Woe! Sob! *clings*.
*sniffle*
Another time, bay-bee.

A pimp!
Then there's a lovely thing called Temps Perdu by elgrey. In the author's own words:AU post ANGELS5. GEN. AU after The Girl in Question. In this version of events, the Senior Partners unleashed the apocalypse before Angel had a chance to assassinate the Order of the Black Thorn. To prevent the destruction of LA, Wesley threw himself into a demon dimension and Angel went after him. After weeks of anxiety and spellcasting, the remnants of Angel Investigations and the visiting Scoobies attempt to bring them back. Characters: Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Lorne, Giles, Buffy, Willow, Xander, Illyria, Spike, Connor.

It's really just a delightful story. We get to see most all of the Buffy/Angel cast, with no bashing and no character assasination, just them working on a solution to a problem. Lots of snark, banter, laughter, and some woobie moments, too. I really enjoyed this - give it a try!

And i am reading and enjoying just a ton of excellent Supernatural fics over at spnnewsletter. The volume of work is amazing!! And some real gems in there. Go! Love! Then write crossovers! Those boys need to meet Spike and Xander, oh yes they do! And Angel, and Giles, and Buffy and...
You get the picture. :)
*is suffering from 'no good xovers with my boys *anywhere* syndrome*
*help meeeeeeeee!!*


Previous parts are here.







Giles was predictably horrified by the nightmare and what the medallion had done. He looked as if he wanted to grill Xander for every last detail but the shadow under Xander's eye - the defeated slump of his shoulders as Spike related the carefully edited tale - made Giles mouth go thin and tight and he sat down abruptly in his chair. The medallion and its chain lay in a silver-black coil on his desk blotter.

"I... I wish I had nothing new to tell you but - two more Slayers have gone missing. One in India and one from Nepal. The Indian girl's Watcher was - killed." Giles rubbed his forehead slowly with his thumb, looking at the scattered papers on his desk. "The Nepalese Watcher is also missing."

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered.

Xander leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He spoke from behind his fingers. "What's it want? I mean, is it gonna - take over the world or something?" He shifted on his chair, slight creak of old wood, and Spike watched the singed and crumpled cover of the little notepad - that was tucked under his thigh - shift with him, a burnt corner flaking off. "Is there some plan?"

"There is rarely a plan with - beings such as this, Xander, but Wesley thinks he may have an idea." Giles pushed through a sheaf of scribbled-over notebook paper and plucked one out of the mess. "Here we are. By taking the power from the Slayers - and the Watchers, presumably - this being maintains its corporeal body. It also gains the abilities of its victims, for a short time."

"As long as they're alive, it can use them," Xander said softly, and Giles blinked up at him.

"Er, yes. Wesley said there have been one or two instances of this demon managing to make its stolen form permanent. It then keeps - everything. We think the Judge may have been one."

"Well, then, just need soldier-boy here to steal us another missile," Spike said, lighting up and feeling absurdly pleased at the little, flashing smile Xander sent him from under his palm.

"If it were only that easy," Giles said, leaning back in his chair and tossing his glasses down onto his desk. "The Judge was bound by the forms it had taken - by the - power it stole. This one is taking Slayer power which is -"

"Which is like a nuclear bomb to a firecracker?" Xander asked, and Giles made an agreeing noise. Xander sat up, running one hand back through his hair and then touching the patch, settling it. "So - how does it make itself permanent? Is there some special - uh, thing it needs, like an amulet or something?"

"Well, no, not as such..." Giles was looking at Xander with an expression of extreme reluctance and Spike felt something - he wouldn't call it panic - starting to flutter in his belly.

"Spit it out, Rupert. We're all big boys here."

"Wesley postulates - and I agree, given the information he's passed along - that the demon is working its way to you, Xander. Gathering power as it goes. When it - finds you again, there's a ritual..."

"There's always a sodding ritual," Spike snarled. He leaned forward and dropped his cigarette butt into Giles' cold tea. Giles didn't even seem to notice.

"What kind of ritual?" Xander asked, his fingers curling around wire binder of the notebook - around the Mickey Mouse pen.

"It is... Well, as you know, the longer its victims remain alive, the longer it can maintain its stolen power and identity."

"Yeah, we know," Spike snapped, and Xander shuddered, his eye closing for a moment. "And its daisy-chaining them right now, isn't it? Keeping one alive as long as it can until it finds the next one."

"Yes, exactly. We believe that it's going to do a final ritual that will...merge -" Giles stood up fast, pacing to his window and looking out into the fogged, drizzling day. "We believe, Wes and I, that - it will somehow be able to take Xander's soul for its own. If Xander's soul lives on inside of it, it's like a - a perpetual energy machine."

"Fuck."

"Then why - why not a Slayer's soul?" Xander pulled the notebook free and held it now, rolling it in his hands and crushing it a bit more. It was starting to look more like a lump of trash than a functional piece of stationary. "Why not - the soul from the guy that let it in, or -"

"We're not sure," Giles said, turning around, and Spike snorted. Giles sent a glare his way. "We believe that, because it took your memories - your experiences - that it's in tune with you. That your - soul - would actually be...sympathetic, in a way."

"You mean it's - used to me."

"And you're used to it, however dreadful that sounds." Giles came back over - propped one hip on the edge of his desk and laced his hands together in his lap, looking at Xander with sympathy. "If it tried the same thing with another - victim, they would both die. Wesley thinks that's why it stole your memories but didn't kill you. It needed time to...acclimate."

"Maybe we can trick it, then?" Spike got out another cigarette and lit it, staring contemplatively at his boots. "Make it take somebody else's soul."

"And just whose soul are you planning on feeding to it, Spike? Mine? Miss Merchant's, perhaps?" Spike lifted his head with a jerk at the snarling tone in Giles' voice and Xander flinched back, gaze darting between the two of them. "Or perhaps some random stranger off the street!"

"Giles -"

"Temping as it might be to give it you, Rupert, that's not what I had in mind!"

"Spike -"

"What!" Spike turned furiously on Xander and Xander jerked back for a moment and then leaned forward, glaring.

"What the fuck are you thinking?" Xander growled, fury making his voice rough - making his heart pound in his chest and Spike actually leaned away, just little, before he stopped himself and took a deep drag off his cigarette.

"I'm just - puttin' things out there. Looking at all the options -"

"You dying isn't an option!" Xander yelled, and in the ringing aftermath there was a hesitant knock on the door.

"Not now, for god's sake!" Giles snapped, and Spike could hear Miss Muffet creeping away from the door.

"I wouldn't die - I'm a vampire. Immortal and all that."

"How do you know? You don't actually know," Xander said and Giles finally got it and turned a look of horror on Spike.

"Dear god. Your soul? Your soul." He shot to his feet, taking a step toward Spike as if he would shake him - or perhaps hit him. "You can't possibly - you'd be evil again! You'd -"

"I’m not him, Rupert. Expect it wouldn't matter much, one way or the other. Didn't in Sunnydale, those last days."

"No, not at all, not until you attacked Buffy -"

"Lover's spat," Spike said, negligently waving his cigarette through the air and Xander's mouth - which had been open to say something - snapped shut with an audible click. "Oh, er -"

"You and Buffy? Seriously? You guys had a - a thing?"

"Well - yeah," Spike said, and Xander - surprisingly - laughed.

"Why doesn't that surprise me? I thought there was something - off - in your conversation."

"You've spoken to Buffy?" Giles asked, and Spike rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I actually have. Not the first time, either." A thought occurred to Spike and he grinned, shooting a look at Giles. "Did you know she's up the duff?"

"She's - what?" Giles sat down again, hard, and Xander made an exasperated noise, sticking the notebook back under his leg and scrubbing his sooty palms on his thighs.

"Oh - uh - maybe best if you pretend you're all - surprised, yeah? Probably she was saving that."

"Jesus, Spike. Way to ruin it for the girl. And you're not feeding your - your soul to this demon. That's -"

"I am a demon, mate. Not like it'd matter -"

"Enough! We are not having this discussion -" Giles was looking as if he was having an apoplectic fit and someone chose that exact moment to open the office door. "Miss Merchant, I told you -"

"Actually, it's mister," the person said, and Spike twisted in his chair in surprise, staring at the man in the doorway.

"Percy? What in bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Arriving in the nick of time, I believe," Wesley said, smiling gently. Giles slumped, pressing a button on his phone and asking for tea - 'very strong' - and Xander got up and edged carefully away from Wes, getting behind Spike's chair.

"This is the deadish guy, right?"

"Kewpie doll for you, mate."

"Huh?"

"Never. Bloody. Mind."





"No, really. I think that would be a brilliant plan," Wes said around a huge mouthful of pie and Spike shot Giles a triumphant glance. "If we want to turn William the Bloody loose on the world again, inviting mayhem and destruction."

"Oh, for fuck's sake! I told you - I'm not him!" Spike waved a chip in the air. "I stopped him from doing that way back, in case you've forgotten."

"I have," Xander said, grinning - concentrating on his plate and Spike whapped him mostly-gently in the back of the head.

"Shut it, you."

"Yes, we've all heard the story - saving the world for dog racing and Happy Meals on legs - hardly a ringing endorsement." Wesley looked positively gleeful and Spike decided that being dead suited him.

"Well I was evil then, wasn't I? Seen the error of my ways since then and all that rot." Giles seemed to be choking on his crust and Spike whacked him absentmindedly between the shoulder blades, making him reach for his pint with a strangled sound.

"And you'll be evil again if you give up your soul." Wes took a long pull of his beer and wiped his mouth - belched contentedly.

Xander leaned over to whisper to Spike. "Will you really be evil?"

"Nah. I mean - I am right now, in a manner of speaking but - wasn't so evil when I was savin' the Bit from that hell-god and all. Didn't have my soul then."

"Yes, but you wanted to get - intimate - with Buffy," Giles said. His voice sounded a little rough and he coughed.

"Well...yeah. But I still did it, didn't I? Even after she told me to bugger off." Spike drank the last of his beer and looked around the table. "Four more then, gents?"

"Oh, yes, same again," Wes said, finishing his own off and Spike waited expectantly. "What?"

"Your round, Wes."

"Oh! Yes, right..." Wes patted his pockets while Giles drained his own pint, finally handing over a much-creased twenty-pound note. "And I want my change, Spike."

"Yeah, all right," Spike said, pushing his chair back. Xander copied him.

"Just want to use the, uh - you know."

"Yeah, I know." They made their way toward the bar, detouring around knots of rowdy punters and the occasional snogging couple. Spike placed his order and leaned on the bar, looking around at Xander.

"Loo's that way, mate." Xander nodded and slipped away and Spike lit a cigarette and ignored the scowl from the two bottle-blondes next to him. Sodding anti-smoking bastards were ruining a good night out.

"Thirteen pounds seventy-one!" the bartender yelled, and Spike shoved the twenty at him. A moment later, Xander was pushing up between Spike and the wall, looking a little rattled.

"Something up?" Spike asked, taking his change and dropping coppers everywhere.

"Oh, no. There's some guy being sick in the bathroom. And everything was - uh - sticky. I should have just waited."

"You lot are pretty disgusting. Here, grab hold," Spike said, and pushed two brimming glasses into Xander's hands. He took the other two and then stopped as Xander leaned into him.

"Wes doesn't seem very dead to me," Xander said, and Spike grinned.

"I suppose being back on his territory, doing the Watcher thing with Rupert - he's in fine fettle."

"Oh, okay. Good." Xander took a sip of the glass in his left hand. "I was just a little...uh....concerned -"

"Didn't want to see him come over all blood and psychosis?"

"Basically, yeah." Xander grinned suddenly and licked his lips. "Are, uh, Giles and Wesley watching us?"

"What? No - they're drawing something on a napkin or - thumb-wrestling? I can't umph." Spike stopped talking as Xander leaned in and kissed him, hard.

"Okay. Ready to go back."

"Right. What? Yeah. Right." Xander's smirk was far too evil for Spike's peace of mind.


"It's really quite - simple," Giles said and Xander leaned forward, putting his finger down in the spilled dregs of his last pint and starting to sketch - something. Looked like a map of Moscow.

*Think I'm a bit drunk. Probably that bottle I didn't share.* Spike looked narrow-eyed at Giles and Wesley and quickly drained the last of his whisky.

"Right. S-simple. You're going to - going to - trick this demon into thinking it's getting my soul when it's really getting - Spike's. Soul." Xander looked troubled. Wesley reached over and patted his arm.

"Yes, quite. And then....and then...and then..." Wesley blinked owlishly - jumped and cursed when Spike kicked him under the table. "Ow! Bloody hell!"

"You drifted off there, mate. Right - trick, spell, soul. My soul. Then when it - explodes or whatever -"

"It's gonna explode? Oh, gross! I don't wanna have exploded demon all over me, Spike!"

"You're bloody well not gonna be there!" Spike growled, and Giles wagged his finger at them.

"No exploding! There will be no - exploding." Giles nodded and Xander looked relieved.

"Promise?"

"Of course! Tell him, Wes -"

"You know, I really miss...LA," Wesley said, and sniffled.

"An' that's our bloody cue. C'mon, Xander, not gonna stay here for the waterworks. Rupert? Can you manage a cab?"

Giles drew himself up in lopsided dignity. "Of course I can! Not so - very drunk. Buck up, Wes!" Giles slapped him affectionately on the shoulder and Wesley wobbled, his entire self going distinctly fuzzy for a moment. "Now, none of that, man. There shall be no - no - uh, Spike?"

"Blood and psychosis. Good luck, mate." Spike stood up - got his footing - grabbed Xander by the arm and got him up, as well. Xander pulled his coat off the back of his chair and started to struggle into it, weaving a little.

"Yeah, no blood, no exploding, no... Wait. What about your soul, Spike?"

"We'll talk about it later," Spike said, and steered Xander out into the night.



The ride home sobered Xander up a little - it was cold and drizzling and there was a decided breeze that was keeping the air fresh, not letting it smolder down into the usual fug of burning and exhaust and the tidal Thames. Xander walked in silence up his block - held the key up when Spike couldn't find it and opened his door without too much trouble. Once inside he shed boots and coat and flopped on the couch with a sigh.

"Okay. Tell me about your soul, Spike."

Spike finished kicking off his own boots and settled down next to Xander, scowling. He really didn't want to talk about it. "How 'bout we just watch some telly -"

"Spike." Xander was all but glaring at him, patch on the coffee table and his palm rubbing gingerly at the empty socket. "Just - tell me."

"Not gonna like it," Spike mumbled, and Xander turned sideways on the couch, tucking one foot up under himself, his arm lying along the back. Not quite touching Spike, but close.

"Try me."

"Yeah, all right. You remember - bugger. Okay, listen." Spike told the outlines of the story of Glory - of Buffy's death and her resurrection. Of her time in heaven and her misery on earth for the first year or so. Xander listened and looked faintly sick and Spike paused to get a beer. Xander wanted water.

"I can't believe that... I mean, I understand missing somebody but - how could we? That was just..."

"It was grief, Xander. Fear and grief and Willow not using her head. All of you feeling so guilty you didn't care if it was wrong or right."

"It was fucked up," Xander said, and took a long drink. "Okay, so - what does this have to do with you?"

Spike drank half his beer in one gulp and tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "When I died the first time, my soul was gone, sure as if I'd died and been buried in the natural way. And then I went and got it back. And I think that...it...that he...was maybe..." Spike stopped and shut his eyes and twitched ever so slightly when he felt Xander's fingers curl gently around his shoulder.

"You think your soul went to heaven, too? Like Buffy's?"

"I don't - know. Don't know about souls and...heaven. Know more about hell. But it - he - he remembers. Remembers dying and - and that it was good, after. He was safe and he was happy and..."

"I'm sorry," Xander said, closer than he had been and Spike opened his eyes again. Blur of dark hair and pale skin in the corner of his eye - Xander's palm warm through the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Did it to myself," Spike said, shrugging a little. "He suffers, you know. Not just because of the demon and all the killing and such, but... He just does. Every day. It's not fair to him." And that was it, really. It wasn't fair, and it really wasn't all that good. William - if that's who was inside - didn't like this time. Didn't like what Spike did - didn't like the violence and the blood and the darkness. He missed books that Spike didn't have much time for and music Spike refused to listen to. Most of all he missed the sunlight and Spike could only take so much.

"So....what happens if... I mean, are Wesley and Giles right? Are you gonna be all...evil and bad again? Are you gonna hurt us?"

"No. Probably not. If you act nice." Xander made a little squeaky noise and Spike rolled his head to look over at him, grinning. "Git."

"Hey, Amnesia-Boy here! If - if you say you won't hurt us then - I believe you."

"You won't, though," Spike said, and Xander looked unhappy. But his hand was still on Spike's shoulder, so Spike figured maybe it was okay.



For the next three days they mostly stayed in. Spike fielded calls from the Watchers about what they were doing and he and Xander got pretty familiar with every movie Xander owned. And pretty familiar with each other. It was the least sex Spike had ever had but it was somehow...more. It was weird. It was driving him fucking crazy.

Spike congratulated himself on not pushing Xander down onto the couch and fucking him until he passed out, even though Xander was all but stripping down and bending over. *Won't thank me for it, either way. But it's for the best.*

"I can't believe I'm that big a jerk, Spike. I mean - seriously - am I really that much of an asshole?" Xander looked at Spike over the wall of pillows Spike had constructed on the pull-out couch. Bloody bastard insisted on lying around naked and warm and fucking hard and Spike wanted it down, for the record, that he'd resisted.

"You're a right bastard," Spike said, and then relented at Xander's hurt look. "Listen, you're not so bad, yeah? We've got a past, is all, and it's gonna...get in the way. M'not gonna be the bad guy again. I mean -"

Xander started to laugh. "You mean you wanna be the sensitive, fluffy, heart-shaped vamp? All gooey and sweet? Emovamp?"

"I mean I don't wanna have to fend off your attempts to stake me ten minutes after you remember I shagged your girl in front of you and all your friends, and now I've shagged you," Spike snapped, and then closed his eyes and dragged a pillow over his face because, really - what the fuck was he thinking?"

"What? You did what? You shagged - that means had sex with, right? Spike!" The couch shook as Xander demolished the wall and dragged the pillow off Spike's face. His knee and shin and foot where over Spike's legs and his hand was flat on Spike's bare chest and Spike didn't want to open his eyes and see the hurt, disgusted look he knew would be there.

"Well, you'd dumped her, hadn't you? And Buffy'd dumped me for good and all and we were both feeling a bit sorry for ourselves." Xander's fingers were stroking gently and Spike wondered, suddenly, if it mattered as much as he supposed it did. "And those bloody - nerds... They'd wired up the shop and Buffy's house and fuck knows where else with cameras and of course Willow figured it out the same minute me and Anya -"

"Oookay. Wait. Anya - she's the one I left at the altar, right?"

"Yeah."

"So...ummm...yeah, I guess I'd be kinda...pissed but... I mean, I'd left her, at the altar. Who was I kidding?"

"You almost chopped my head off with an axe," Spike said, opening his eyes and looking at Xander, who was looking puzzled and a little amused - and a little disgusted, but not, apparently, over Spike.

"I really am an asshole if I thought that I could tell the girl I jilted who she could sleep with."

"Well, you and me weren't -"

"I get we weren't friends, Spike." Xander hesitated for a moment and then he leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to Spike's. When he spoke again, he barely pulled away, whispering voice puffing warm air over Spike's chin. "But that doesn't mean I had the right to - to take an axe to you. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Course not, I -. Well, I ducked and then Buffy was there. Sodding chip -"

"Good." Xander kissed him again - hitched himself closer so his entire warm, naked body was pressed tight to Spike's. "So I got to watch you have sex with somebody, huh?"

"We weren't - naked or anything. Dunno exactly what you saw."

"Hmmm..." Xander kissed him again and Spike closed his eyes and took a breath and pushed. Rolled them both over so he was on top and Xander was laughing softly, squirming around and hooking his foot over Spike's thigh - opening himself to the press of groin and denim and hard, desperate flesh.

"You bloody bastard. You're making this fucking impossible."

"Kind of the point," Xander breathed, his hands doing wicked, wicked things down Spike's back and under the waist of his half-buttoned jeans.

"You just don't get it," Spike groaned. He pushed his face into the warm, sweet-salty crook of Xander's neck - let Xander rub and grope and arch and twist until he was fucking close - so damn close.

The phone rang.

"Don't you fucking dare," Xander snarled, flushed and sweet with clean sweat, panting into Spike's shoulder and his hands digging into Spike's ass - holding him tight and close, one leg wrapped around and the other splayed wide, foot braced. "Just - fuck - Spike -"

"God -" Spike fastened human teeth into Xander's throat and pushed - twisted - moaned into Xander's skin, heartbeat like a military drum under his tongue. Aware of the sudden, warm slickness on Xander's belly - of his own body shuddering through a climax he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried.

"Fuck -" Xander was limp - falling open like a starfish on the tangled sheets, eye closed and hair sticking up in clumps. Spike unlocked his jaw - eased back a little and looked with a sort of horrified glee at the deep, red bruise he'd managed to inflict on the pale-gold skin just over Xander's collarbone.

"Bloody hell, Xander -"

"Don't say you're sorry, don't say it sucked, don't say I'll regret it. Okay?" Xander groped blindly and found Spike's head - slid shaking hands into Spike's hair and pulled him down into a sloppy, breathless kiss. "Don't say a fucking thing. It was fucking amazing. We're gonna do it again. I'll sign a contract in blood that says I won't try to stake you."

"Oh god fucking damnit all to fucking hell -"

"Shut up, Jesus -" They kissed until they were stuck together and then staggered into the shower, blue twilight coming in through the long strip of windows over the shower stall. Xander got out first and when Spike came into the kitchen - back in clean jeans and thank god, Xander was in sweats - Xander tossed a beer at him.

"It was Giles on the phone. He said they've figured out the spells they need and - uh - Willow figured out a way to track the demon." Xander's voice was casual - careful - and his hands were shaking again and his expression was too shuttered to be hiding anything but fear.

"And?"

"And they're right. It's coming here."


ETA: Jayzus, sorry, people. LJ went all wonky on me. Smooches to reremouse and darkhavens, as always.