Neverland update...final chapter! *s/x - adult*

[tabaqui]

At last at last! Heeeee. There *will* be an epilogue! I have that already sketched out. But this is the end of the *story* story.

As always, my undying thanks to reremouse and darkhavens for all their help and encouragement. Thank you, ladies! :)
Previous chapters are here, 'cause you all probably need to refresh your memories! Thanks, guys, for your support and patience!





Spike came down to earth – literally – with a thump of his boots onto leafmold and spongy earth. He staggered sideways, thrown off balance by Xander's weight and the uneven footing. Xander made a funny little squeak of surprise and grabbed tighter and Spike braced one leg and pushed and they both ended up more or less upright, clinging together. The air was thick with humidity and the scents of wet earth and wood, ozone and water.

*In the woods...fuck, not those woods...bloody hell...*

"Oh, god, Spike, are we still there?" Xander's voice cracked a little and he swallowed hard. "Are we still in Neverland?"

"I can't tell. Be quiet a minute." Spike listened, face shifting. Ignoring Xander's heartbeat and the creaky wheeze of his lungs. A breeze rushed through the treetops, shaking down a little mini-shower, water pattering over the leaves. Far away was the soft rumble of dying thunder, the storm moving away. And then another sound, much closer and growing louder and Spike relaxed, letting out a little laugh. "Hear that?"

"Hear what? I –" Xander stopped talking – stopped breathing when Spike squeezed his shoulder. The sound was loud enough now and Spike felt Xander take a deep, shaking breath, relaxing under his hand. "That's – a car. Isn't it? That's a car engine."

"Got it in one, pet," Spike said. Somewhere below them – at the bottom of the slope they were standing on – headlights flickered between tree trunks as a car wound slowly past. Spike could hear the tyres hissing over the wet road – could very faintly hear some sort of music.

"We're home, we're home, we're – are we?" Xander's fingers skittered over Spike's coat – found his lapels and shook him very slightly. "Spike, do you know where we are?"

"Stop crumpling the leather, for fuck's sake." Spike pried Xander's hands loose and then just held onto his wrists. Listening with other senses – listening with his whole body. *There it is. Hook, you mad bastard. You were right.* "Can you feel it, Xander?" Spike whispered, watching as Xander blinked and then shut his eyes, frowning.

"I feel...my feet are wet and there's a rock...and...kind of...tingly?" His eyes popped open, looking around blindly and Spike could feel Xander's heart beat through the thin skin of his wrists. "What is that?"

"Hellmouth, is what that is. All that power, buzzing away like a hive of bees underground."

"I never felt it before. I think. Fuck, I don't remember."

"Like as not you didn't. Got sensitive to it, is all." Spike rubbed his thumbs slowly over the pulse in Xander's wrists – heard his little catch of breath and felt him sway infinitesimally closer. *Now what am I going to do with this boy? This...lost boy. Be a shame to drain him, after all this...*

"What are we gonna do now?" Xander asked, and Spike leaned forward carefully, not wanting to startle Xander in the dark and get a chin in the face. His cheek touched Xander's and Xander flinched ever so slightly and then Spike let the demon go and Xander turned his face and they were kissing again.

After a minute or two Spike pulled away. "Don't know about you, mate, but I'm starving. And you could use a wash and brush. How 'bout we go check on my car, get some nosh, relax?"

"Would there be pizza?" Xander breathed. "Meat-lovers with extra...meat and about a gallon of soda and won tons and General Tso's chicken and –"

"You'll be sick if you eat all that."

"You so do not know me, my fanged friend. That's just for starters. Uh. I don't actually have any money."

"Well, neither do I, at the moment." Spike reached into his pocket, hoping for one last smoke. Instead something jabbed his finger. "Ow! Bloody hell –" He jerked his hand out of his pocket and Tink came out with it, fluttering up to hover between himself and Xander.

"Tink! Hey!" Xander held out his hand and Tink settled lightly – hugged Xander's up thrust thumb. "You look better – do you feel okay now?" Tink chimed softly – lofted himself upward and flew in dizzying circles. "I think he feels okay."

"Bloody fairy," Spike muttered, but Xander was grinning, blinking happily in the dim mauve light Tinkerbell gave off. "Well, come on – time we were off. Hangin' about in the woods isn't anyplace we want to be."

"Yeah, okay." Xander followed Spike downhill, stumbling and sliding until Spike reached back and grabbed his arm, keeping him mostly upright. Tinkerbell darted back and forth, chiming wildly until Xander finally coaxed him onto his shoulder – kept up a low monologue of words while they crunched through bracken and wet leaves. "You ever have pizza, Tink? Oh, man – it's the best. And Twinkies – they're better than any kind of fairy food. And then there's Slurpees – you haven't had the perfect brainfreeze 'til you've had a Blue Raspberry Slurpee. And corn dogs! And cheese popcorn. And Twizzlers – cherry only, the strawberry are weird –"

"Great jumping gods, is food all you think about?" Spike slithered the last, muddy steps down hill and stepped out onto the road. Xander stumbled happily in his wake, picking leaves out of his hair.

"I think I missed food more than I missed my mom. No, wait – I know I did." Xander looked up and down the road, squinting a little. A very faint light – mostly reflected city lights – filtered down through the trees. "So – Sunnydale's thataway, huh?"

"Seems like." Spike felt reflexively for a cigarette and cursed as he once again encountered an empty pocket. First stop – smokes. He stomped down the road and then stopped and turned when he realized that Xander was just standing there. "Well? Come on, then – haven't got all night."

"Um. Maybe you could just...go on without me? I mean...maybe I could just kind of...hang back." Xander's hand was on the knife in his belt, fingers clutched tightly around the worn leather wrappings. "You know – get my bearings."

*Oh, what now? Sodding humans...* "Thought you were panting to get the goodies – have yourself some kind of junk-food orgy? Get a hot shower and kip in a real bed."

"Well, yeah, I am, it's just... I mean..." Xander stopped, his eyes suspiciously bright and Spike heaved a martyred sigh – stomped back to stand not a foot from him. Tink was chiming softly, his little hands patting at Xander's ear.

"What, then?"

"It's just...what if they...forgot about me? What if they don't...? I mean, I've changed, you know? And – and they've changed, and....it's a whole big – change-y kinda...thing." Xander waved his hands around, looking frantic. "You know?"

"Not really. Look – they're your mates. Either they give a shite or they don't. You skulkin' about in the woods like a scared rabbit isn't going to change that." Xander shrugged, looking away – sniffed and wiped hastily at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm scared, okay? You happy? I'm scared they won't care anymore." Tink made a distressed little noise and fluttered up of Xander's shoulder to hover a few inches in front of his face. He patted at Xander's chin and darted in, pressing his tiny mouth to Xander's lower lip.

"Well, the fairy cares," Spike muttered, and Xander gave a shaky laugh and held his palm up for Tink. The fairy lighted there, hugging Xander's thumb and Xander very carefully stroked Tink's back with the tip of his pinky. Tink seemed to really...like that.

"I think the fairy cares a little too much. Tink," Xander said, looking solemnly down at the pointy little face that was slack with pleasure. "Tink, it'd never work. We're not even the same...species." Spike snorted and Tink shot him a filthy look and then shrugged, wrapping his arms more tightly around Xander's thumb and very unsubtly humping the callused skin.

"Listen, Xander. Let's just go hole up in my house – well, Angelus' house, but who fucking cares? You can get your bearings from in town, yeah? We'll get you some clothes and – and a haircut if you want or...something. No reason to rush things. Xander?"

Xander was still petting Tink's back, sweeping a little lower with every touch. He had a wicked look on his face. "Huh? Um. Okay, yeah. Yeah, you're right. No reason to rush things... Wow, I guess their wings are like – erogenous zones or something."

"You're one sick little puppy, you know that?"

Xander grinned up at Spike and then half turned away, shielding Tink from Spike's gaze. "We're having a moment here, Spike. Care to give us some privacy?"

"Wanker." Spike turned on his heel and stalked away and after a moment he heard Xander's bare feet on the road. He glanced back to see the boy jogging to catch up, a languorously curled Tink on his shoulder, holding tight to a lock of hair. "All done now, then? Need to get separate rooms?"

"You're just jealous the fairy likes me best."

"Soon change that," Spike said, and then snapped his mouth shut, horrified. He marched on, ignoring Xander's hysterical giggles.



"They look different," Xander said, and Spike shifted around on his stool a little bit and squinted through the lights. Looking toward the little table where the witches and the Slayer were sitting, nursing neon-colored drinks. The older one – the teacher – wasn't there.

*And thank Christ for that. Bloody gypsy.* "Well, been nearly three years, hasn't it?" Spike said, and Xander shrugged – nodded. He looked different too, now that Spike had stolen him some proper clothes. Looked like the grown-up he nearly was in new jeans and a plain, dark red t-shirt. He'd left his hair long, curling nearly to his shoulders. It had a sheen like a sealskin now that it was clean and combed and Spike liked to run his fingers through it. When Xander let him, which was...pretty bloody often. Getting cozy, they were.

It reminded him of Dru, truth be told, though he didn't say that out loud.

"Yeah, I guess. I just... It's weird! Willow's all...gay and Buffy's like...a grown up, and they're in college... I can't believe it's been so long." Xander took a sip of his soda, toying with the straw. "Maybe I'll just...you know...go over and say hi."

"Maybe you will, pet," Spike agreed, fishing for a smoke and inhaling gratefully. Sodding California and its sodding anti-smoking laws. Xander sat and fidgeted and sipped his drink and Spike smoked and when smoke and drink were both gone, Spike stood up. "Think I'll take a little stroll – have a bite," Spike said, and Xander slithered off his own stool, looking grateful.

"Guess I'll just – tag along. Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

"In your bloody dreams," Spike muttered, but they walked out of the Bronze with wrists and shoulders casually brushing. Habit, now. Xander stalked his former friends, Spike didn't point out that he never actually talked to them – they both hunted down feeding vamps. Spike – or Xander - would stake the vamp and Spike would take a nice long drink from a swooning victim. Xander would then take said victim to the nearest safe place and they'd wander on in search of more until Spike was satisfied or Xander was tired. Imperfect, but workable. Tonight, they only went a couple of blocks before Spike was lifting his hand and nodding toward an alley and Xander was drawing a stake from the inner pocket of his jacket, dark eyes alight with adrenalin. Whatever else Pan had taught the boy, he'd taught him how to hunt.



Spike wiped his mouth off and sucked the end of his thumb clean – watched Xander shove the half-dead man into a cab and send him on his way. Big, hairy, garlicky half-dead man. Not something Spike would ever choose for himself. Sodding sick of this, I am. Had enough. Feel like some kind of damn pet on a leash.* Suddenly it was all too much, and Spike made up his mind in an instant. "Going to head out tomorrow," he said abruptly and watched Xander blanch, eyes going wide. "Know a vamp or two in San Francisco – they'll get this chip sorted for me."

"San – San Francisco? But – I thought..."

"What, thought I'd spend the rest of my unlife here? Eating sloppy seconds and having a boy for a bodyguard? Not bloody likely." Spike snapped his Zippo open and lit a cigarette – ignored the look of hurt on Xander's face.

"I guess... I guess I'd better find someplace to live, then," Xander mumbled and Spike stopped dead, unconsciously letting his face slip into the demon's mask as he growled in pure irritation. Xander flinched a little but kept going, head down. Fists shoved hard into his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunching. "I mean, I can't stay at the Crawford Street house forever, somebody's gonna want it and...and it's too big for just me anyway, and –"

"What in bloody hell are you going on about?" Spike snarled. Xander just shrugged, walking a little faster and Spike stomped after him – rounded on him, glaring. Xander stopped dead and glared back. "Look, mate, it's been a month, yeah? An entire damn month of trailing around after the Slayer and those witches, making mournful faces in the window at the Watcher's house like the sodding Match Girl, and you've not once opened your gob and said one bloody word! It's time to move on!"

"Yeah, well – so? You've got your car and your – your stolen stuff and your big – moving – plans so just – move! Not like you –" Xander clamped his mouth shut hard on whatever was coming next and Spike just stared at him. Breathing, and then paying attention to what he was breathing. After a moment he let his face relax back into human – let his mouth move into a little half-smile.

"Oh, that's how it is, yeah?"

"That's how what is?" Xander mumbled, sidestepping around Spike, moving away, booted feet crunching on broken glass.

"That's how you are," Spike said, catching up. "This is."

"What is? And if you say 'What's on second', I'll shove that cigarette up your –"

"Calm down, pet."

"Don't tell me that!" Xander stopped again, snapping up his arm in a 'talk to the hand' gesture. "I hate that!"

"Well, then, bloody calm down!" Xander huffed and then stood there, seething, and Spike took a long last drag and flipped the butt away, trying for his own calm. "Look, what I'm saying is... You just don't fit here anymore. You've seen things, done things you know that mob wouldn't approve of. You don't fit into their little world anymore. Besides..." Spike leaned in a little, getting right into Xander's face and space and the thin aura of heat and scent that surrounded him. "You like me better."

"No I don't," Xander snapped, but he was looking away – was leaning into Spike, just a little, and Spike grinned.

"Course you do – why shouldn't you? I don't care who you killed or how you did it or that you slept with some little kid –"

"He was the same age as me," Xander muttered. He sighed and leaned all the way, then – let his head drop onto Spike's shoulder and Spike's hand came automatically to rub the back of Xander's neck, fingers tangling in his hair. "It's just... I thought I'd come back and the first thing I'd do was go see Willow and Buffy and...it'd all just...be the same!"

"I know," Spike murmured, eyes on the alley mouth across from them. Something was lurking.

"And it's not. Nothing's the same. They're totally different and I don't... I hate it here. Everybody hides from the truth. Everybody knows bad stuff is happening and they're all just – pretending it doesn't." Xander lifted his head, his hands creeping forward to stroke lightly along Spike's sides. "I'm sick of pretending things and...hiding things. I can't go back to that. I can't make-believe anymore, Spike. I just can't."

"And you don't have to," Spike said, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin and softer hair just behind Xander's ear. The slightest encouraging pull and Xander was pressed up tight against him, mouth to mouth and hip to hip. He tasted like Coke and beer nuts and bubble gum toothpaste. He felt warm – solid – and Spike slid a hand around Xander's hip and held him close, enjoying the little flutter of Xander's heart and the reflexive clutch of callused fingers when Spike tilted his hips and pushed.

"Can I come to San Francisco with you?" Xander whispered, nose brushing Spike's nose and his hand rubbing slowly down Spike's back, fingertips dipping into the waist of Spike's jeans.

"Never planned on leaving you behind. Just needed you to make up your mind proper," Spike whispered back. He felt Xander shift against him – felt something hard pressing into his thigh.

"There's a vamp over there," Xander breathed, and Spike laughed softly.

"You go left, I'll go right, eh?"

"Gotcha." Xander was grinning as he spun around and lunged, and Spike laughed out loud.

*Not so lost anymore, are you, boy?*

Comments

[milady1844.livejournal.com]

Yay! Happy ending. And now, thanks to you, I'm never going to think of Tink the same way. :-P But then, this whole story's really warped how I see Peter Pan. I really enjoyed this. Thanks!

[tabaqui]

Yes yes! Always that, one way or the other.
:)

Ooh, i warped you.
*bounce*
Thanks so much!