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Chapter 11
“…and he said I shouldn’t use it because of the danger of
sealing the splinters in…”
“Willow, Willow…” Xander tried to break into the longest
sentence he’d ever heard that contained no break for
punctuation or breath.
“…and that would be worse than keeping him well fed and
letting him bleed out…”
“Willow!”
Willow gave a good impression of Spike’s cartoon blink.
“Yes?”
“It’s okay, the bleeding has virtually stopped.”
“Healing?”
“A little. I
think.”
“That’s wonderful.
It must be where the splinters are coming
out. One day
they’ll all be out, Xander, and…”
“I’ll have a healthy vampire with no
mind.” Fairly
horrible pause. “I
shouldn’t have said that, why did I say
that? He’s
learning all the time, he’s growing,
he’s… He’s just
not Spike.”
“For now. One day
it’ll all be back and you’ll miss the quiet time.”
“Wouldn’t that be
great? Missing the
quiet time?
Putting up with the whinging and grouching and bitching and
brutal sarcasm? I
cannot express how much I want to miss the quiet time.”
They turned to the doorway as Spike came into the kitchen,
preparing his own blood and cocking his head to one side,
listening to the radio in the living room as he did so.
“You want to give him more painkillers?”
That caught Spike’s attention; he looked at them and shook his
head.
“There’s your
answer.” Xander
smiled at the affection on the vampire’s face as he gazed in
his direction, and opened his arms to
him. “Hey, love of
my life, how you
doing?” Spike was
in those arms in a second, leaning in and nuzzling Xander’s
neck.
“You called him sweetheart the other night,” Willow reminded
Xander with a
grin. “Should have
seen Buffy’s face when it sank
in. She did the
outraged huffy-puffy thing and wanted to know if the two of
you were…getting biblical.”
“Hope you said yes just to screw with her head.”
“I remained enigmatically silent,” Willow announced proudly
before taking the warm blood from the microwave and pouring it
into Spike’s mug.
“You ever seriously think we were?”
“I didn’t know, before you
left. I mean, the
way you’d look at each other sometimes.”
“Really?”
“Really. It was
pretty…hot.”
“Hot. Right,”
Xander accepted somewhat uncomfortably.
“But not this time around.”
“Think the long-time demon magnet’s lost it?”
“I know you,
Xander. You’d
never take advantage of anyone, especially someone you love.”
Willow turned to offer the mug to Spike, grinning at the sight
of Xander attempting to untangle the vampire’s fingers from
his hair.
“You want your
food? You’re going
to need this hand.”
“Here you go,
Spike. Yummy
breakfast,” Willow bribed.
Spike reluctantly left Xander to claim his blood, sitting
carefully at the table as his back
twinged. Xander
and Willow brought their own breakfast and sat with him.
“Not tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“We won’t be leaving
tonight. Maybe
tomorrow night. I
want to give him a chance to get over the worst of the pain
before he has to cope with that long drive.”
Willow took a deep breath.
“Xander…”
“Uh-oh. This
sounds bad.”
“No.
Depends. I want
you to meet with Buffy…”
“You gotta be joking!”
“Please, Xander.
For me. For
everything we’ve all been through
together. I
feel… I feel that
if you don’t resolve what’s wrong between you two the Scoobies
are finished for
good. You’ll drive
away and never come back.”
Xander stared down at his toast, appetite lost; he pushed it
toward Spike, who took it to dunk.
“For you?”
“And Dawn.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“She deserves the chance to put it right.”
“She doesn’t want to…”
“Give her a
chance. I’m sorry
if this is blackmail but do it for
me. Please,
Xander.”
I can say no.
I’m nearly thirty years-old for God’s sake, I can say no if I
want to. I can say
no to
Willow.
I’m gonna say no.
I can say no. If I
don’t look at her.
I’m saying no.
This is me, Alexander Harris, saying no.
“I’ll do it for
you. Not here
though. She
doesn’t get in a room – a building – with Spike again.”
“Not here.”
Xander brooded and sighed.
“Okay.”
Which
is why, after a relaxed day of dozing on the sofa, constant
radio, Willow-read stories and muted one- sided discussions on
‘What we’ll do when we get home’, the atmosphere intensified
as the evening progressed, right up until the knock on the
door at a little before
ten. Buffy.
“Can
Xander come out to play?”
Willow
went
through the motions of asking Xander who went through the
motions of asking Spike, who, in all honesty, did not look
impressed.
“You’ll
be safe here with
Willow, and you can go up to bed if you get tired, or if you want to
be by yourself. I
really need to talk to
Buffy. But I won’t
go if you want me to stay.”
Spike
visibly wavered.
“Is
it because you’re scared Xander won’t be safe with
Buffy?”
Nod.
“I’ll
be fine with
Buffy. And when I
come back I’ll be
happier. See, I
need to get some bad stuff out of my system,
and…”
Nod. When it was
for Xander’s well-being then there was only one
answer.
“Thanks. I promise
I’ll be careful, and I’ll be back soon.”
Xander
got his coat from the rack in the hall and shrugged into it,
accepting
Willow’s offer of a couple of stakes and sliding them into a
pocket. When it
came to walking out of the door he hesitated, glancing back to
where Spike watched, all big-eyed concern.
“We’ll
be fine,”
Willow
smiled
as she physically ejected him from her
home. He came
face-to-face with Buffy on the porch and there was definite
surge of resentment before he forced himself to behave and
gave her a subdued
smile. “Play
nicely,” the watcher instructed, and the door was shut on
them.
They
walked in silence for a few minutes before Xander sighed and
offered Buffy his arm; she took it with a grateful smile, and
they strolled along the evening streets like any other normal
couple, providing it was overlooked that she slayed vampires
as per her vocation and he seemed to be fostering
one. Buffy
scrunched a hand into the material of the coat.
“This
shouts money. Who
were you shouting at?”
“It’s
just a coat.”
“Eleven…twelve-hundred
dollars?”
“I
didn’t look at the price,” Xander said, hoping it didn’t sound
arrogant when it was purely the
truth. “I liked
it, I bought it.”
“Good.
That’s
good.” Half a
street of silence
followed. “You’ve
changed.”
“I
know.”
“Willow
warned
me. She said you’d
been cold. Very
hard on yourself.
On us.” Xander
just nodded. “I
have to say I’m still a bit
shocked. So,
Alex, what happened to the real Xander Harris?”
Xander
smiled.
“Y’know,
Buffy, that was always the
problem. I had no
idea of who the real Xander Harris
was. I knew what I
was supposed to be for the people around me,
but… The day I
stopped and asked myself what I wanted rather than what was
expected of me was the day I knew I had to get out.”
“What
was the answer? To
what you wanted.”
“You
don’t want to know what was at the top of the list.”
“Don’t
I?”
“At
number two was a good job that would challenge
me. I’d felt like
a failure for so long I couldn’t shake off the mentality, even
when I was doing okay, so I needed to prove something to
myself.”
“And
at number three?”
“Knock-on
from number two.
Respect. I wanted
respect.”
“We
always…”
“Don’t
finish that because we’ll fight over it,” Xander snapped,
harsher than he’d
intended. He
regretted his tone
instantly. “I’m
sorry, I don’t have the right to speak to you like
that.”
“I
think you might,” Buffy conceded quietly, squeezing his arm
tighter and snuggling
closer. “Number
four?”
“It
got pretty basic
then. You know:
the security of having money in the bank, a car that didn’t
break down every forty miles, nice home, better class of
rats.”
“What
about someone to share it all
with?” Xander
remained silent.
“Or is that back to number one on the
list?” Buffy
looked up at her friend expectantly; Xander shook his
head. “Gloves off,
Xander. He’s going
to bust us apart so can we be honest?”
“What
do you want me to say?”
They
came to a halt and faced one another.
“The
truth.”
“Something
on the lines of…Buffy Summers is a manipulative bitch who’s
forgotten that who, or what she is doesn’t give her the right
to treat anyone as expendable?”
Buffy
swallowed hard.
“Something
like that.”
“And
that we’re not her minions, we’re her
friends. At least
some of us thought we were.”
Xander
walked away and Buffy caught up in a few steps.
“There
was no other way, Xander, we spent a lot of time going through
the options.”
“Don’t
give me fucking options,” Xander snarled, turning on
her. “You and
Angel, you’re transparent.”
“To
defeat the Srumanteshtak we needed the – the…”
“Sacrifice?”
“We
needed the blood of the living dead, and we needed Spike’s
strength.”
“So…living
dead, vampiric
strength… Here’s a
thought: why didn’t Angel volunteer?”
“The…sacrifice
had to be
‘unknowing’. Angel
knew about the demon, and he was needed to help perform the
spell.”
“Which
was kinda convenient seeing as you wanted him kept out of
danger.”
“And
why shouldn’t I?”
“Uh-uh.
Why should
you? Why did he
warrant special treatment?”
“Because
Angel is a lot different from Spike.”
“Less
of the ‘is’. We’re
talking six years ago, which would be not so long after the
Angelus sequel. Or
are you conveniently forgetting that?”
“That
wasn’t his fault.”
“Sure.
And, hey, maybe you’re
right. Angel
was a lot different from
Spike. I never had
to make up excuses as to why Spike’d had a bad spell day and
turned into a fucking monster.”
“Can
we keep to the point?”
“When
Spike walked back into our lives he made a considered decision
to help us; no tricks, no gimmicks, no reliability-challenged
soul.”
“It
was the chip.”
“The
chip took away his bite, not his
brains. He could
have manipulated or terrorised the demon community into making
our lives hell – pun intended – if he’d wanted
to. That chip
didn’t bring him over to our side or give him a
conscience. It
didn’t make him save Dawn time and again, and it certainly
didn’t make him stick around to put up with the crap you threw
at him.”
“And
you think it was
what?
Altruism?”
“Belonging.
The need to be accepted.”
“Not
simply that he wanted to fuck you?”
“Well,
could be he’s more like Angel than I thought, ‘cause there’s a
definite vampire-fucking-human pattern emerging here.”
“Angel
is different,” Buffy
persisted. “He
loves me.“
“And
what? Spike
doesn’t love me?
Are you going to have the balls to say
that?” For the
first time in her life, Buffy felt threatened by Xander,
sweet, devoted, un-possessed, puppy-dog Xander, with an edge
to his voice that chilled her to the
bone. “Spike
doesn’t love me?”
“I –
I – just…
Probably, I don’t know, I never found a way to trust anything
he said, anything he showed.”
“He
loved you too.
Once upon a time.”
“We’ve
been through this, it was…”
“Genuine
when he felt it.
You knew that but you just kept on screwing him over until you
had the chance to kill him off and make it look
legitimate. Once
Angel was back on the scene Spike became a major embarrassment
to the both of you and…”
“Xander…”
“You
want me to shut
up? Maybe I’ve
spent too long shutting up to make you feel better.”
“Please,
Xander!” Buffy
sounded quite desperate and Xander couldn’t help but respond
to the tone.
“Please.
Xander.”
Beat.
“Okay.”
Buffy
held up her hands and they both took a calming breath.
“This
is so not going where I wanted it
to.” She took
another breath.
“What I wanted to say tonight was that I was
wrong. Inasmuch as
you weren’t told.
We did have to use Spike to defeat the demon, but we
underestimated its power and over-estimated our
own. Spike was
hurt much more badly than I ever dreamt he would
be. And I –
we – were
sorry. I am sorry,
Xander. I am truly
sorry.”
“You’re
apologising to the wrong person.”
“I
don’t think I am.”
Buffy took Xander’s arm
again. “Spike had
the chance to let his anger at us
out. You’ve kept
yours inside and its eating you
alive. I may not
always have appreciated how important you were to me, but I
never wanted to cause you a moment’s pain.”
At
Buffy’s urging they began to walk again; this time the silence
between them was protracted, and it didn’t end until Buffy’s
voice brought Xander from his inner ponderings.
“Hope
you’re up for this, Xander.”
Xander
glanced around and found they were at the cemetery in time to
see several fledgling vampires clawing their way from fresh
graves.
“You
better believe it.”
The
fight was over in fifteen minutes, leaving multiple piles of
dust, a satisfied slayer, and a retired slayerette who had
forgotten just how good it felt to release some pent-up
frustration with a little mindless
violence. Despite
having her own vampires to deal with, Buffy had kept a close
eye on Xander – after all it had been six years since he’d
patrolled with her and she had no idea how sharp his reflexes
were. But he had
surprised her.
Stunned her. He
was in good shape, he had incredible stamina, he was fast and
accurate, and boy, was he
vicious. She
strolled to him as he casually shook the remains of the last
fledgling off his coat.
“Feel
better for that?”
“Yup,”
Xander answered without hesitation.
“You’ve
been training.”
“Like
I said, there’s a gym in my building.”
“How
many Arts have you learnt?”
“A
few.”
“And
will any of your gym buddies fight you anymore?”
Now
Xander did pause.
Then he grinned at her, and the years slid away.
“Nope.”
She
returned the grin and gestured him on with her hands.
“Come
on then.”
“I
don’t think…”
“Come
on.”
Xander
pretended to consider the offer then slowly nodded his
acquiescence, sliding out of his coat and draping it over the
cemetery wall. He
picked up the piece of metal railing that one of the
recently-dusted vampires had found to fight with and weighed
it in his hand before giving it an approving
nod. As he
approached Buffy the expression on his face hardened as he
focused: a glimpse of the predator reminding her of the hyena;
clinical calmness reflecting the soldier; not least of all,
there was a tangible undercurrent of violence that exposed
Spike’s unconscious influence from the year when he and Xander
patrolled and fought together
exclusively. She
took up a fighting stance: this was not going to be
easy.
…
Quarter-to-one
in the morning and they were wandering back to Willow’s,
slightly battered and the worse for wear, but a few of the
cracks in their friendship had been cemented over and a
foundation for mutual respect had been hammered into
place.
“So…”
Xander grinned.
“He really kicked your ass?”
“I let him.”
“’Kay.”
“It wasn’t exactly
planned. The three
of us got together to talk and he lost
it. He was a mad,
bad, dangerous to know Spike that
day. Threw his
unbeating heart and non-existent soul totally into
it. I knew he was
building up to something and you know how it
went? And this –
whack – is for – wallop – upsetting –
crash – my – thud – Xander – thump, thump,
thump.”
“Subtle.”
“It was your hurt that he cared about, not his
own. Xander, I’d
be a total ass if I didn’t admit it: he loved
you. Loves you.”
“It’s mutual, I promise.”
“I can’t stop being the slayer long enough to give him the
benefit of the doubt.”
“You never could.
Guess that’s the nature of being the
slayer. You can’t
deny your instincts any more than he can.”
“But he can, he
does. What does
that say about me?”
Xander shrugged.
“That you never had me to come home to?”
“That was my big mistake, huh?”
“No. If you had’ve
come home to me, sooner or later I’d have turned you over to
be with Spike.
Screwy as it sounds, he’s the one.”
“But… Know what
makes this harder?
You hated him.”
“You’re absolutely
right. I hated him
as passionately as I came to love
him. Don’t ask me
to make sense of
it. I
can’t. It makes no
sense at all.”
“What
about now? The way
he is?”
“Just
have to wait and
hope. I can’t give
up on him.”
“I
want him to be better,
Xander. I want you
to be happy.”
Xander gave a non-committal
nod. “And I
wouldn’t have done
it. When you
offered me that
stake. I wouldn’t
have. I just felt
– feel – so
powerless. I don’t
do powerless well.
I overreacted. But
I wouldn’t have hurt him.”
Xander
gave an amused snort.
“Buffy…
I wouldn’t have let you.”
Buffy
gave him a long look and eventually smiled.
“I
like that. And I
like this Xander, this Alex.”
Xander
didn’t question it, he simply smiled
back. Magnanimity
kicked in.
“What
happened last night: I know it was an accident.”
“You
really believe
that? Or is
Willow
holding
Spike hostage until you say it?”
“He
believes it, she believes
it. What makes my
judgement better than theirs?”
“He
believes it?”
“Oh,
yeah. He’s a damn
sight smarter than you and me put
together. Wouldn’t
catch him doing the, ‘my boyfriend is less of a homicidal
maniac than your boyfriend’ routine.”
They
found themselves on
Willow’s doorstep and there was a minute’s awkwardness until Xander
spoke.
“Coming
in?”
Buffy
shook her head.
“I
don’t think Spike should have to cope with
me. I don’t think
you should have to cope with us together.”
His
eyes looked haunted for a moment, then he quickly blinked away
any trace of
emotion. It was
about Spike, Buffy knew, it was all about
Spike. The idea of
Spike and her together still had different connotations for
Xander. Maybe the
fact that the vampire had pledged his love for her in words
that should have waited for a more deserving
recipient. Buffy
reached up and hugged Xander hard, feeling his strong arms
close about her and return the renewed affection.
“He
played with being good for me,” she
whispered. “He
truly did it for
you. I guess that
makes you his soul.”
The
hug tightened, leaving Buffy grateful for her slayer strength
as Xander’s response threatened to crack a
rib. She
eventually pulled back, gave him a quick kiss and a smile, and
walked off in the direction of her car.
Xander
let himself into the house and was met by an overzealous
vampire racing into his embrace.
“Miss
me, huh? Yeah,
well, I missed you too.”
“Xander!
What happened to you?”
“Sunnydale
stuff, not a problem.”
“So…you
and Buffy?”
“We’re
okay. You know how
it is: fighting, dusting, bonding.”
Yes,
Willow
knew
exactly how it was, and she smiled to herself, negotiating the
possessive vampire with some difficulty to take Xander’s
coat.
“We
had a good
evening. Mr
Sedated finally got over the drugs an hour ago and became Mr
Unbearably Perky.
He’s been fretting and pacing and sulking, and in no way have
I got to the point where I’m desperate to hand him back to you
and lock myself in my bedroom until you leave.”
“Going
to bed then?”
“At
speed. Goodnight,
Xander.”
Willow
circumnavigated
Spike and kissed Xander, then risked doing the same with
Spike. She kissed
his cheek, and he regarded her with absolute
wonder.
“Goodnight,
Spike.” He tried
to take her hand and bring it to his brow but
Willow
took
a step back, tapping her face with a
finger. The
vampire cautiously approached and self-consciously pressed his
lips to her cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered with a satisfied
smile. “Thank
you.”
…
With Spike asleep and safe, draped across his chest, one hand
beneath Xander’s t-shirt and rising, falling with the rhythm
of his breathing, Xander had time for reflection.
The list. Despite
what Buffy thought, number one was nothing to do with
Spike. Xander knew
when he made the list that he couldn’t have Spike and stay
sane. So, to his
deep, bitter and unending regret, Spike was filed away under
‘loved and lost’.
Number one on the list was simple: get away from Buffy
Summers. Should
I have told her?
Hurt her? Because
it would have
hurt. There
was the nasty
smile. I’d’ve
made sure it
hurt. Spike
gave a jolt; Xander lost his train of thought as he focused on
the vampire and gently rocked him.
“Hey, sweetheart.
Don’t dream.
Xander’s here and the bad guys can’t get
you. Don’t dream.”
Thirty seconds of broken purring indicated Spike rising from
and drifting back into sleep.
What was I…?
Oh, right. For
Xander, the realisation that he’d not only fought Buffy, but
with skill and dexterity she’d felt a need to comment
favourably upon filled him with
satisfaction. She
was always going to be better than him – in all honesty the
Scooby in him wouldn’t have wanted it any other way – but the
fact that she hadn’t patronised him by taking it easy had
pleased him, and he enjoyed the aches that
remained. He
didn’t even mind the incredibly sore jaw that was the result
of ducking when he should have been
diving. The chance
to vent, followed by her apology for her treatment of Spike
had been the first few tentative steps in Xander letting go of
his resentment, but it didn’t work half as well as the feel of
his fist connecting with her
face. God, she
was so surprised.
Almost two thousand hours of training in four years just to
punch a little respect into the
slayer. Worth
it? You bet
ya. No wonder
Spike had been prepared to forgive after taking on both her
and Angel. He
wished he’d seen
it. Spike fighting
was a positive joy to behold: lithe, sensual, powerful,
ferocious. To see
the vampire fight with the savagery and grace that was so
unique to him, then to have him turn to Xander and ask, ‘All
right, pet?’ with understated concern but darting eyes that
checked every inch of Xander for damage, used to fuel
fantasies that—
Xander pulled away from that thought as if he’d been stung: he
had no doubt that Spike’s senses were functioning well enough
to detect any sign of arousal and that was one conversation he
didn’t want to have with a dozy vampire who’d been woken by an
intoxicating new
scent. Work would
do the trick; Xander mentally began to walk through the first
site he’d be handling when he went home and was asleep before
he got to the foundations. |