1 | 2 | 3 |4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Xanpet
AUTHOR’S NOTES: The sonnet used in this chapter is Shakespeare’s Sonnet
136. Originally this was why Spike’s initials in these stories were WH.
Shakespeare wrote a number of his sonnets to a young man with these initials
and Spike was going to make a great deal of the fact that his initials were
the same. Unfortunately this was a dark lady sonnet so bang went that plot line.
I was Jossed by Shakespeare, go figure!!
Spike sat listening to the row above their heads. “That bloke’s a drunken halfwit,” he decided. Many’s the time Spike had seen Xander’s mother sporting a little too much make-up or dark glasses. “Geezer’s definitely a bit too handy.” As far as Spike could tell Xander’s father had never struck him. There was no fear there, just a kind of sorrowful loathing, if that made any kind of sense.
Ye Gods, introspective or what? This is what came from sitting for two days watching the young man sleep off the emotions of Friday night. Spike had to get them out of there and to do that he had to get the chip removed first. He wanted everything, the flat, the domesticity, the homely love. He knew it seemed out of character for a vampire. It wasn’t. The demon knew nothing of restraint. See. Want. Take. Have. It was simple and he wanted it all.
Still Xander slept. Spike wasn’t going to wake him. Then he would have to say where he was going. He hoped to be back before the ‘Scooby’ meeting but just in case he wasn’t…. He got up quietly and went to the desk. Taking a biro and paper he paused, thinking about what to write. He hated writing with biros. The ballpoint just didn’t suit his style, but when you lived forever, you had to move with the times.
He smiled to himself. He chewed the end of the pen for a moment recalling his schoolboy Shakespeare and then in a spidery, fine, copperplate hand, tiny without his glasses, he wrote,
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will,
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
Will, will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
In things of great receipt with ease we prove
Among a number one is reckoned none:
Then in the number let me pass untold,
Though in thy store’s account I one must be;
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:
Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
And then thou lovest me for my name is Wil’.
Just like Arny I’ll be back.
WH.
Spike scanned the sonnet to make sure he had it right. Then folded the note and put it in an envelope. He put Xander’s name on the front and stood it by the microwave. A place Xander was sure to visit, eventually.
Spike waited until it was quiet upstairs and then left. As he reached his car, a male voice from the hedge said, “You’re a friend of my son’s aren’t you?” The speech was slurred and thick with drink.
“Yes.”
“What’s your name, boy?”
“William.” Spike answered without attitude. It stuck in his craw to do so. This berk was scum but he didn’t want to cause Xander any more trouble.
“Well William, drive safely. Even a small town like this has its maniacs.”
“Yeah and I’m talking to one of them!” He thought.
When Spike arrived, he was shown into the back room of the bar, “Spike, meet the Viscotti brothers.” Willy said and, without further ceremony, left them to it. The scene was almost surreal. It was like a bad gangster flick. There were five ‘wise guys’ for want of a better word sitting around a card table. Gun holsters clearly visible, drinking whiskey from heavy bottomed tumblers. Danny Viscotti was the youngest. Ray Viscotti had a large jagged scar down his right cheek. Lincoln and Martin were so alike they could have been twins and Tony Viscotti, the eldest, could have won first prize in a ‘Fat Tony’ competition. They even had the stereotyped accents.
“I hears yous are having a problem.” Said Tony, “A hunting problem. We could help you out. When my brothers and I are taken suddenly…unwell we visit a certain doctor. A very discreet doctor that specialises in things a hospital ought not to see if you get my drift? But help of this sort doesn’t come without a price. Are you willing to pay for such specialised services?”
“Just what the fuck d’you want me to do? I don’t have all night.”
“Our Mamma, God rest her soul, always said patience was a virtue.”
“I’M A VAMPIRE. Do I look bleeding, bloody virtuous to you?”
“I would be right in thinking that a bad attitude got you into this mess in the first place? Politeness and respect never hurt anyone.”
He couldn’t believe he was getting a lesson in manners off a tu’penny ha’penny mobster. He morphed into the vampire just to hurry things up.
“We’ve lost something.” Said Danny quickly, obviously more panicked than the others by the demon sitting in front of them.
“Something we would rather like to get back.” Tony added.
“And that something would be…” Spike wound his hand as if to crank up the speed of the conversation.
“An ancient evil from the straits of Messina.”
Spike began to smile. It was more of a leer with his game face still in place. Even Tony Viscotti looked worried. The smile became a wry laugh as the vampire put two and two together. Messina, Sicilians, six heads, he’d read this one.
“Let me finish this story for you before it becomes ‘Gone with the Wind’. Ancient evil, six heads, three sets of teeth each, about a dozen useless legs, barks like a small puppy and scoffs down people like they was Smarties. Am I right?”
The stunned Viscotti brothers just nodded.
“Goes by the name of Scylla. You fucking stupid bastards found a way of catching her and what…sell the story to The National Inquirer? This wasn’t a plan guys, it was a bad Godzilla movie. Now she’s out and trying to go home to Tara.”
What he wanted to say next was that frankly he couldn’t give a damn with the emphasis in the right place. However, that wasn’t going to help him lose the chip. So he shifted back to the young man and looked at them with the contempt they so richly deserved.
Tony recovered his composure. “We know you have contact with people in this town who can help us in this matter. You are to alert these people, allow them to find and catch the beast. Turn her over to us and we will allow you to see our doctor.”
“Or the sharpened end of a broom handle! I need some guarantees here.”
“Oh come now Mr. Spike it is rumored that you have defeated a God, killed slayers, we are all gentlemen here.”
“No, I told you before, I am a vampire. I’ll need something more than flattery. Have a nice day.” The last was said in his best Stateside accent.
As he reached the other side of the street Lincoln Viscotti caught up with him. “Listen, Vampire, we need you to catch the beast. Circe herself is after us. You are the only one that can do this. No other demon hunter will touch this job. If you take it on you will be remitted for your trouble. You can retain Scylla until the operation is complete. Do we have a deal?” He thrust a calling card into Spike’s hand. Spike took it and put it in his pocket.
“I’ll think about it.”
The meeting with the Viscotti brothers had taken longer than he thought. Now he was going to be late to Giles. To save time he cut through one of Sunnydale’s many cemeteries. The last thing he expected was a seemingly very pissed off Xander to jump out at him.
“Just where the hell d’you go?” Xander snapped. “I wake up…no vampire! No trace of vampire! Was my snoring bothering you?”
“Went out. Needed something to eat.”
“With three full bags in the refrigerator? What, none in chocolate chip?”
“Hmm, yes, Xander was definitely pissed off.” Mused Spike.
“I left you a note, said I’d be back, just got a little way laid that’s all. Don’t know what you’re in such a two and eight about. Anyone would think we were lovers the way you carry on.” Spike tried to move the conversation away from where he’d been. He didn’t want to tell Xander just yet, if ever. It really depended on the final outcome.
“Oh, you want to say that a little louder, Fangless? Come on, I don’t think Deadboy quite heard yah!”
Now it was Spike’s turn to be pissed off. “There’s no one here. I really don’t think the whispering grass will tell the trees cos the trees don’t need to know. If you don’t want me around just tell me to sling me ‘ook and I’ll fuck off. I can’t be arsed with all this shit.”
Xander looked shocked and that unhappy, puppy dog stare always made his vampire melt. Spike couldn’t resist. He didn’t want to be angry with the boy and he certainly didn’t want to leave.
“Look I’m sorry.” He said. “It’s just I want us to be happy and I don’t think we can if we’re hiding all the time and we don’t trust each other. I did leave you a note. I put it next to the microwave. Obviously you didn’t see it before you left. When we get home I’ll show you, eh?”
Xander nodded, but he’d made himself soup before he left and there was no note, he was sure of it. Still he didn’t want to argue any more either. It was making him feel sick. He was so confused his head spun. He really wanted to trust the vampire but there were things, real, big, scary, important things, which he just needed time to work through. If only they weren’t living in his parents basement for a start.
They walked together the rest of the way in silence.
“Four nights ago, Spike came to me and told me he’d witnessed a new evil on the Hellmouth.” Giles began, when they were all seated.
“Oh Giles, how much did you pay him this time?” Said Willow in a sympathetic voice.
“Hey!” Exclaimed Spike indignantly.
“Actually I didn’t. He volunteered the information.”
“Hah.” Said a very self-satisfied vampire. The more he did things like that the more Xander would know he could trust him.
“Since then I have been doing some research and I believe what we are dealing with, is Scylla.” They all looked blank, except for Spike of course.
“She was one of two monsters who were said to have inhabited the Straits of Messina between Italy and Sicily. Mariners who sailed that way couldn’t avoid both of them. Charybdis was a great whirlpool and Scylla a six-headed demon. Odysseus, in Homer’s great epic, chose to sail closer to Scylla and thereby lost only six of his men and not the entire ship.”
“Yeah until he had to come back again.” Spike chimed in. “Then the ship was empty so he decides chance his arm with Charybdis, whole fucking ship gets sucked into the back of beyond and he survives by climbing the mast and catching hold of a bloody great fig tree, hanging there ‘til the bleeding thing comes back up again.”
The other five stared at him open mouthed.
“What? I can read! I had to do something before they invented telly.”
“How do we kill it?” Xander asked.
A cloud fell over Giles’ face and he shook his head. “We don’t.” He said. “Scylla is a true immortal.”