|
Chapter 12
The moment the sun set on the following day, the Merc was
pulling out of the garage and Xander was giving a last wave to
Willow and Dawn.
He’d always hated goodbyes and there seemed to be an ominous
finality about this one – not from him, but from the
women. However
much he reassured them that he – they – would be back, the
gloom refused to lift and he fought against slipping into
their depression.
Once on the road he felt ebullient, and he knew Spike was just
as excited to be going home, showing it in his own
outwardly-passive-but-with-gleaming-eyes way.
“Just you and me, baby,” Xander laughed as they hit the
freeway and gentle pressure on the accelerator resulted in the
Merc’s engine purring as seductively as a
vampire. Spike
switched on the CD player and within seconds the car’s
fabulous sound system reverberated with Elvis Costello pumping
it up. Xander sang
along and danced in his seat while Spike watched with amused
eyes and cocked
eyebrow. Track
done, Xander glanced at his
vampire. “Hey, did
I tell you today just how goddamn beautiful you
are?”
Shake. “Well, I’m
telling you now.
Believe me?”
Pause.
“Uh-uh. You don’t
get to think about it for that
long. You just
believe me, okay?”
Rock. “No, none of
that either.
You’re my Spike, my beautiful
Spike. We’re going
home, you’re going to get better, I’m going to find a really
cool way of introducing you to the people I work with just to
see the looks on their faces when they finally figure it all
out.
Okay?”
Nod. Xander
laughed at the vampire’s unquestioning
acquiescence.
“Don’t mind me taking over the rest of your unlife
then?”
Shake. “Think
we’ll move out of the apartment, get a house somewhere really
private and quiet, just you and
me. Willow can
visit. You want
Willow to visit?”
Nod. “She’s pretty
special, Willow.”
Nod. “You are
going to get
better.” No
response.
“Spike…” The
vampire turned to look at him and, at a glance, Xander could
see the sadness and
doubt. “You will
be well again.” He
reached out to take the cool hand that lay closest to him,
holding it as he drove, smiling as the fingers gradually
curled around his.
The sun was up by the time they got home and Xander was highly
grateful for both the effectiveness of the car’s new windows
and the underground parking at his apartment
building. He
carefully helped Spike out of his seat, too aware of the
effects of the long journey on the damaged back, but the
vampire was too sleepy to care about much other than home and
bed.
Once Spike was tucked up and out for the count Xander went
through his mail and browsed the TV guide that was still,
pointlessly it now seemed,
delivered. Two
back-to-back programmes on architecture caught his eye,
starting in less than an hour, and he pined for a moment
before making his decision and shifting the TV back into its
pre-Spike position, finding the remote and pressing the power
button with a satisfied
sigh. Life without
TV was just another dimension of
Hell. He made
himself some breakfast and settled down to watch, hoping that
Spike was so deeply asleep that nothing could disturb him;
once he’d never have questioned it, but now… And he was
right. Ten minutes
into the first programme the vampire appeared and, warily
skirting the TV, came to Xander and huddled close to him on
the sofa, eyes wide as he gazed at the other love of
Xander’s life.
Xander chose to ignore his pounding heart and give the vampire
a chance to acclimatize: the programme was one-hundred-percent
innocuous, after
all. Unless you
had a perverse aversion to late 20th Century
building design; despite Spike’s gothic preferences he could
still be flexible, Xander smiled to
himself. When the
commercials arrived he sent Spike to heat up some blood,
finishing up his coffee as the journey began to catch up with
him and wondering if he should just set the recorder and send
the both of them to bed for some much-needed
rest. But then
Spike was back, the programme was back, and his interest in
both kept him
conscious. By
eleven though, they were both dozing, stretched out and wound
together on the sofa, Xander trying to find the energy to move
but not really giving a damn where they slept as long as they
were together.
…
Days and nights slipped by, often indistinguishable because of
the heavily draped windows and Xander’s penchant for shopping
as close to home as possible and rarely venturing beyond the
mall in the basement of his
building. When
he’d had to go to buy more blood it’d taken some figuring
before he’d worked out if the four-twenty on the clock was am
or pm.
Finally the call he’d been expecting came from work: Rafe’s
desperate yet tuneful howling for Lexy on the answering
machine said it
all. Patrick would
grit his teeth and bear the wait, Jake would fret and pace but
be too considerate to even think of exerting any kind of
pressure, but Rafe was up-front and loud when
necessary. And if
he had been given the task of calling Xander and luring him
back into the fold then he was needed, no doubt about
it. Xander felt a
little happier about leaving Spike alone
now. No noise to
disturb him, he was eating well, could keep himself occupied
for hours with his books and drawing and – for short and
somewhat tense bursts – the TV.
Miraculously the newest damage to Spike’s back had begun to
heal and although it fell a long way short of vampiric
healing, it was more than Xander had come to expect and he was
relieved and
delighted. He’d
phoned Willow with the news, been passed to Dawn to repeat it,
then to Buffy to repeat it
again. It wasn’t
until Xander phoned Angel to let him know how things were that
someone had the courage to ask about Spike’s mental
state.
“He’s improving, like his vocabulary is growing and he
understands more without extra explanation, he’s becoming more
independent, can look after himself better; he can cook a meal
if he’s seen me do it a couple of times, remembers every
little thing…”
“But?”
“No past memory.
And the fact he’s still absolutely silent freaks me out,”
Xander admitted guiltily, feeling ungrateful and
demanding. “He’s
happy and contented, and as more splinters come out the pain
lessens…”
“But?” Angel repeated.
Xander paused before saying softly:
“He’s not my…our…the Spike.”
“I understand. I’d
find it difficult too if I were with him all the
time. Xander…I’d
like to see him at some point.”
“Not yet,” Xander came back fast.
“No, not yet.”
“Why at all though?”
“If he stays like this I suppose I need to see and
accept. In my
heart I have to say goodbye to William.”
Having learnt from Willow of the vampire’s recent history, of
his personal losses, the gentle words sent a pang through
Xander, just when he’d hoped to get through an entire
conversation with Angel without bawling.
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed hoarsely.
“In your time,
Xander. I trust
you to do what’s best for him.”
He was fucking doing this on
purpose! Xander
nodded pointlessly and hung up without another
word. Still, you
could do that if you were family.
…
First day by himself and William hated
it. Unable to
settle he wandered aimlessly around the apartment, battered
photo of Master clutched to his
chest. He couldn’t
eat, couldn’t concentrate, just kept telling himself that time
would pass and Master would be home
again. When the
phone rang at midday he leapt for it, and the sound of the
voice he loved brought some peace, but for far too short a
time. Then it was
back to wandering.
The hardest part of the loneliness was the way the doubts
crept back, the fear that he was going to be rejected, that
Master had tired of his slow mind and
ugliness. And
without his master he would cease to
exist. Because
there would be no
point. No point at
all.
First day back at work and Xander hated
it. He wondered
what had happened to the enthusiasm he had felt when he
thought of normality and routine and the security of the
familiar. His
return was greeted with open arms, and he tried hard to be
cheerful and positive, but his heart was with Spike and it
showed. He’d never
been a clock-watcher since he’d joined this firm but now he
couldn’t keep his eyes away from the steel and glass
monstrosity on the wall of his office that just had to be
running slow – no way a minute could take that long to
pass. He got to
four and couldn’t stand it any longer, phoning through to
Patrick and telling him he was
leaving. Before
Xander was into his coat, Patrick was into his office.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing’s
happened. I just
can’t concentrate.
I’m gonna screw something up if I don’t get out of here.”
“When you said you were leaving…”
“Maybe it’s a good
idea. Gimme the
sack and put me out of my misery.”
“Alex…”
“I gotta go, Pat, I’m
sorry. I’ll be in
tomorrow, on time, ready to work.”
“Give me five minutes.”
“I can’t. I
can’t.”
And Xander was
gone. Patrick
stared after him, frown kinking his
brow. He had to
do…something.
“Hey, honey, I’m
home! Come and get
me! All
yours!” Spike was
there instantly, throwing himself into Xander’s
embrace, and they held each other for a long
moment. “Fucking
awful day, huh?”
Nod. “It’ll get
easier. Think I
said that once
before. Something
like that. Didn’t
mean to lie. It
will get easier.
Wouldn’t be so bad if it was just another day, but it still
feels like five years and another
day.”
Nod. “How the hell
would you know?
You’re the lucky one who doesn’t
remember.”
Nod. “That’s it,
you just agree to
everything.”
Nod. Xander
laughed and pulled
back.
“Eaten?”
Embarrassed shake.
“No, me either.
Are we pathetic or
what?”
Nod.
“Right. First
things first…blood, heat, mug.”
Two hours later there was a knock at the
door. Spike jumped
up from Xander’s side and backed away from the direction of
the sound.
“Why don’t you wait in the bedroom,
Spike? I’ll see
who it is.” Spike
started to move then hesitated, coming to touch Xander’s
chest. “I’ll be
fine, nothing to worry
about. Go on,
bedroom.”
Spike did as he was told and Xander answered the door to find
Patrick standing there, best worried look on his
face. Xander
invited him in and ushered him toward the living room,
throwing a glance at the bedroom door as they went, wondering
if Spike would stay hidden away or come
out. He didn’t
have long to think as Patrick launched into an abject apology
which finally arrived at:
“…and even if it was something we only trusted you to
fix we should have coped and we shouldn’t have pressured you
into coming back so soon.”
“I’ll be fine, I just need some adjustment
time.” Xander
noticed Spike peer suspiciously into the room, focusing on the
stranger. Taking a
deep breath, Xander held out a
hand. “C’mon,
Spike. This is
Patrick, he’s our
friend. A friend,
like Willow. He’s
okay.” Spike came
to Xander, grasping the offered hand with both of his. “Pat, this
is Spike.”
Patrick smiled and said hello, but Xander could see the shock
on his face, a timely reminder of how frail and ill the
vampire looked; he’d got immune to it, even the appalling
scars on the twig-thin arms that Patrick tried not to notice.
“Can you go put the coffee-maker on for
me? Find the good
coffee, the gold packet with the squiggle that
goes…” Xander drew
the logo on Spike’s hand and the vampire nodded, gave Patrick
another wary look, and left for the kitchen.
“Jesus, Alex, what’s keeping him alive?”
Xander smiled.
Umm…his state of deadness?
“He’s actually improved lately.”
“Fucking hell.”
Xander was
impressed. He’d
never heard Patrick really swear before in all the years he’d
known him.
“Fucking hell, who did this to
him? Sorry, it’s
none of my business.”
“I can’t tell you
anyway. We never
found out,” Xander lied.
Patrick sat heavily in an armchair.
“I’m so sorry. No
wonder you don’t want to be at work.”
“Don’t feel bad, it’s nothing to do with you,
and…” Xander
ploughed on, refusing to let his boss interrupt.
“…work’s good for me, or it will be when we get used to being
apart again.”
“Is there anything I can
do? What about a
new apartment?
Somewhere a bit
quieter. You could
be the first person into the Penciatti complex, you know how
good the place is, really classy and you could have more
space, a second bedroom.”
“Don’t…” Bite
the bullet,
Harris. “Don’t
actually need a second bedroom, Pat.”
“Oh.” Couple of
seconds to sink
in…
“Oh.
Well… Doesn’t have
to be a bedroom, make a fine study, you could work more from
home.” Nice
catch, that
man! “How
about it? Install
a computer link and you could spend less time in the office.”
“That’d be…”
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Pat, Pat, slow
down. I wanted to
ask you…” Patrick
took a breath and looked expectantly at
Xander. “We got
any houses
available? Bit
further out of town would be good.”
“Buy or lease?”
“Lease. For now.”
Patrick’s face did the screwed-up in thought thing that always
made Xander smile: he could see this man as a child of five
doing it.
“Mullery Place?”
Xander shook his
head.
“Barncroft?”
Shake. “How
about…how about the show house for Cedar
Grove? Now the
lots are sold it’s standing
empty. It’s a
nice, solid piece of work, and it’s got extensive grounds
where the car park and site units were: could have some nice
privacy planting.
Just needs the sales office turning back into a
room. Want to know
the best part?
Never sold it on, it belongs to the firm.”
Xander went to his dresser and dug through a pile of files
that tried to escape from the right-hand cupboard the moment
the door was opened.
“Study sounds like a good idea,” he muttered as he struggled
to remove a single folder and push everything back into the
cupboard. Flicking
through the file he sat on the sofa and patted the seat next
to him as Spike sidled back into the
room. He put a
photo of the house on Spike’s
lap. “What do you
think of that?
Like to live
there?” The
vampire tensed.
“With me, Spike, the two of
us. And Willow
visits, remember?”
Spike took a more serious look at the attractive red-brick and
cream stucco building, running his fingers over the picture
before leaning against Xander and nodding, head dropping
contentedly onto the human’s
shoulder. “Figure
out a price,” Xander told Patrick with a
smile. “Well…that
was too easy.”
Patrick’s gaze was fixed on Spike and Xander was deeply
touched by the sympathy he saw there.
“I meant what I said about working more from
home. I know you
have to spend time on the sites, but a lot of the paperwork
could be done from
here. Or from
there,” Patrick gestured to the picture.
Xander glanced down at Spike, seeing the closed eyes and
nudging him gently.
“Hey, dopey, want to let me up for the coffee?”
“No, I’ll give that a miss,” Patrick insisted as he
stood. Xander
repositioned the vampire and rose, following Patrick to the
outer door. “I’m
sorry, Alex, I shouldn’t have barged in.”
“If the house works out it’ll have been worth it,” Xander
countered with a grin, and Patrick affectionately rubbed his
back, becoming serious.
“Any help I can give, anything you want, just
call. Remember to
call.”
“I will."
“I don’t know how you’ve coped.”
“Truth is, I
haven’t. Not
well. But it’ll
get easier. That’s
about the hundredth time I’ve said that today and you don’t
know how sick I am of mindless optimism.”
Patrick gave him a rueful nod and opened the door, pausing
before leaving.
“Alex…would this be about the right time to assure Beth you’re
not going to spend the rest of your life miserable, lonely and
starved of physical contact?”
“I think it would be a good time,” Xander
agreed. “At
least…tell her I’m not lonely.”
Xander closed the door behind his boss and positively bounded
back to Spike, grabbing up the file and skim-reading the
details for the
house. He hadn’t
wanted to appear too enthusiastic with Patrick there but the
property was fantastic, and he knew he’d get a reasonable
lease price because what he was paying for the apartment was a
pittance: the firm was nothing if not generous to its Gang of
Four.
“See this? Better
than I could have imagined, it’s
got…” Spike’s hand
gripped his arm hard, stopping him
instantly.
“Yes?” The vampire
gestured: you, me,
house. “Yes, it’s
for us, it’ll be safe and quiet, it’ll be our
home. For as long
as you want to be with
me. Because I want
to be with you.
Always with you.”
Spike looked relieved – more than relieved – by Xander’s
declaration, and he started to bring Xander’s hand to his
brow. Then he
stopped, put the hand very deliberately
down. Feeling
positively audacious, he caressed Xander’s face with a
feather-light touch, leaning across to lay as tender a kiss on
his cheek.
“Thank you,” Xander whispered, almost afraid to speak aloud
and shatter the moment.
And Spike smiled.
Tears welling in his eyes at this amazing development, Xander
pulled the vampire close, holding him, stroking him, loving
him so desperately it caused physical pain.
…
The following days were so much easier than the first,
and Xander was glad to find he hadn’t been lying every time he
uttered what had felt like worthless
platitudes. It
helped that Patrick had been as good as his word and a
computer link had been established to allow him to spend more
time at home. The
lease for the house had been agreed on, and it wasn’t going to
cost much more than the apartment, which said an awful lot
about the home he was about to give
up. The
alterations and additional landscaping Patrick had opted for
would take about a month, which felt like a good amount of
time to Xander as he calculated how long it would take to
organise himself for the move and maybe choose some extra
furniture.
In a few dark moments Xander found himself pondering whether
he could live in the house by
himself. Could he
cope alone if Spike suddenly came to his senses
and…
‘Your
loss, Xander. Fuck
you!’
…walked
out? The
undisputed king of the answers was the simplest: wherever he
was, if his Spike emerged and chose not to stay he’d be
devastated and very possibly unable to carry
on. The apartment
wouldn’t exactly stop him slashing his wrists.
…
This
was better and this was worse, Xander accepted as he threw
himself onto the sofa to rest his back after several hours
hunched over the
computer. He
watched Spike pottering around, methodically packing without
the need to defer to Xander on every little decision, and he
knew things were
changing. He’d
wanted Spike to develop some confidence, to take Xander for
granted inasmuch as he had to understand that their
relationship wasn’t based on seeing is believing: Xander may
leave but was always going to come home to him, would always
care when he was away, was never going to go out and change
his mind about them before he
returned. Up until
now Spike could only be secure in Xander’s
presence. But
things were
changing. Which
was better and worse.
As
Spike grew, Xander
wanted. The surer
the vampire became the more he reminded Xander of his lost
love, defining lines were becoming blurred, and Xander
wanted. Even now,
at this very moment, as Spike threw a filthy look at the song
which had just started playing on the radio, Xander saw the
past and wanted to creep back there and offer himself
unconditionally.
Spike turned off the radio and flicked through the CDs where
they sat in their unsealed packing box: it was a longer job
than it should have been because he couldn’t read the names on
the spines, had to look at the pictures on each of the jewel
cases until he recognised what he wanted, but three days ago
he wouldn’t have done
that. He’d have
left the radio playing because Xander had switched it
on. Or he’d have
come to Xander to humbly ask for the music to be
changed. This was
– should have been – such an insignificant occurrence but to
Xander it was a huge deal: it was his Spike, somewhere beneath
the neutral façade was his Spike, and Xander
wanted. He’d never
been cleaner due to the amount of time he spent in the shower,
jerking off, but how long before Spike figured out the scent
and instinctively
knew? Before he
would expect…what?
When Xander got home from work Spike would come to him and hug
him, kiss his cheek, and the affection was very real, but it
was platonic and there was no way Xander could corrupt
that. It would be
terrible if Spike felt obliged
to… Xander shook
the thought away.
I’m better than
that.
I’m.
Better.
Than.
That.
Spike
found the CD he’d been searching for and slipped it into the
player, pressing play and listening with some satisfaction
before wandering into the kitchen and coming back with blood
and coffee, joining Xander on the sofa and handing over a
mug. Xander
thanked him, received the almost-smile, and wanted.
He’d
described it well to
Willow
. He
burned. Inside he
burned for Spike.
The vampire had been an obsession with him for so long now he
sort of understood why wanting him had become such a major
preoccupation. But
there was a little something more that Xander was
uncomfortable acknowledging: Spike had been taken away from
him and he wanted him
back. His feelings
were about possession or, if he gave his memories free reign,
repossession.
Spike had been
his. It didn’t
matter whether or not they were a mated pair, whether he’d
crawled, walked, jogged or sprinted away from the vampire, it
didn’t give any other person the right to take what was
his. I sound
like him now. At
least I didn’t call him mine in front of other
people. What was
the moronic yellow demon with the fan
tail? Wouldn’t be
told. ‘That human
is mine, no-one else gets to touch. One more step and I’ll
tear your fucking head
off!’ The
demon had stepped and Spike had
torn.
Ick.
‘Xander is mine,’ Spike had reiterated for good measure as he
pummelled the recently liberated
head. No wonder
Buffy
thought…
Xander
looked at Spike who, from the way he scrutinised the room’s
contents, was figuring out what could be packed now and what
should be left out in case it was needed; he was centred and
beautiful and
innocent.
Innocent. That was
how he would stay until he could understand what Xander’s
wanting really meant and say – maybe say, oh, God, please
say – yes.
Spike
scratched absently at a finger before recognising the
sensation and turning to Xander, offering the offending digit,
asking for help.
Xander understood instantly, putting down his coffee and
taking Spike’s hand, feeling for the splinter before gnawing
it out of the skin below the
knuckle. They had
this procedure down to a fine art, and seconds later Xander
was spitting out the wood and shifting into a more accessible
position so the vampire could cuddle up to
him. Splinters
were always followed by comfort, they both knew
that. It was so
familiar to them now: Spike purred, and Xander…wanted.
William
settled in his master’s arms and allowed himself to be
happy. He felt
good about being useful, and glad that he was able to
understand Master’s instructions the first time he’d been
told. His mind was
clearer lately.
Simply appreciating that his mind was clearer was a sign that
it was: a week ago he’d have been too stupid to
notice. He’d also
allowed himself to be convinced that he
belonged. It had
taken a great leap of faith, but when Master said they were
staying together William finally chose not to question, but to
accept. Acceptance
allowed him a degree of contentment that was quite alien to
him: living without fear –
extraordinary. He
drew himself up and faced his master, leaning forward to lay
several soft kisses on his
face. The
resounding heartbeat began to speed, and William enjoyed the
thrill of it, putting his hand over the area where the
pounding was most pronounced.
“You
do that to me,” his master murmured, and William decided that
was a good thing going by the tone of voice and slight flush
on the human’s
cheeks. The scent
from his master made him feel strange inside – good strange,
not bad strange – and he wished he knew what to do about it,
how to ask for something to be
done. He kissed
his master again before sinking back onto his chest and
winding an arm around his
waist. There must
be a right time for these stirrings to be dealt
with. A right
time. His trust
was absolute: Master would know. |