1 | 2 | 3 |4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Xanpet
DEDICATION: To Denny, wherever you are. We all love you.
“Well here we are.” said Spike. He hated moments like this. When the love of his life and he, were about to enter a battle, from which they may not return. He’d done this with Buffy and look where that had ended up. A damaged demon and a grieving boy, finding comfort in one another. Was that what they were doing? Maybe, back in the day but now? Well now this felt a lot like love. Like falling in love – again.
The two looked at one another, dark eyes meeting blue. Spike threaded his fingers behind Xander's head, losing them in the thick, dark mane. He pulled gently. Kissed the fringe, then the forehead, the nose and finally the mouth. The rich, full, sensuous mouth. Xander deepened the kiss and everything else vanished for both of them.
Long minutes later Spike reluctantly let go. “Come on, I didn't park so’s as we could park.”
“Oh parked did you? Funny, I thought you just stopped in the middle of the street. Why you are never ticketed beats me.”
“There ain't a copper in Sunnydale who’d touch the DeSoto. It's good this demon thing.”
“I take it they don’t know you’re chipped.”
“You know, that can have a metaphorical meaning, as well as a literal one. Ought to think about it sometimes.” Spike felt his temper rise. “Not now, dozy demon.” He thought, “Just put a sock in it for a while, eh?”
He got out of the car and pulled out his coat and the sword. The others were already on the wharf corner where the last attack had been reported. The sea monster was heading for the ocean, seemingly. Was it in his imagination or had it got rather chilly out here? “What you lot doing with faces like the middle of a wet weekend in Skegness? If you’re going to tell me that a giant whirl pool’s just opened up in the ‘arbour car park, I’m going home.”
“Come on.” Said the Watcher. He had had no time to really assimilate the information that Willow had given him. He wanted to question Spike alone where, if necessary, a little force could be applied, but the demon of the day was more pressing. Spike would have to wait.
The plan was simple, six of them, six heads. Each of them would act as a distraction. The demon would be moving more slowly, thanks to the spell, and that would allow them to sidestep the heads more easily. Spike, with his supernatural strength, was on chopping duty. They didn't like it but they really had no other choice, and judging from what Willow had overheard, he was still chipped at the moment.
He sauntered down the street, oblivious to their worries. “Here little puppy. Come and get your vampire treats.” He called to the empty night.
He kicked over a dumpster. It made a terrific crash and with a snap, out shot one head, then another and another. Willow began her incantation and the strange bark of the demon became a bellow. The result was something akin to the Doppler effect.
Spike swung the sword at the first head. It was instantly severed and he was showered in gore. The demon blood was black tar clinging to his skin and forming a sticky coating on his duster. He went more carefully at the second that had turned towards him. Still, even sawing at it got him further saturated in blood. Two down, three to go. “Mustn't sever the last head or go for the heart.” He reminded himself. Suddenly there was a scream and the head nearest Dawn was snapping and hissing at her.
Spike spun round, slithering in the blood, and with an uppercut took that head off too. The grisly trophy tumbled to the dockside by Giles’ feet. Now he was cross. He revealed face of the vampire and roared at the demon. Head four instantly turned towards its attacker. He swung, but missed and Xander had to duck to avoid the incoming blade.
Demon against demon, Spike swung again. Circling his head with the mighty cleaver. Willow shrieked and the blade stuck fast in mid-air. The momentum the blond had built up however, carried him forward, and he fell in the ever-increasing pool of blood. He looked up to see the cutting edge of the sword mere inches from Tara’s neck. Her eyes were wide with shock and fright. “Let go, Witch.” He yelled, “Keep chanting. I got it. It's OK. Just didn't see her. For fuck sake let go!”
Willow released the sword, but sent it spinning out of Spike’s hands and down the quayside. The monster was now moving at full speed and with half its heads still intact. Xander dived for the sword. Sliding in the slick of blood, he grasped the hilt and as the roar became deafening above him, he closed his eyes and thrust upwards. The barking and howling became a pained scream and then an ear-splitting wail as the weapon drove itself into the creature’s heart.
“No!” Moaned Spike, frustration not allowing him to be discreet. Another chance gone. He would have this fucking chip forever.
The rest of the body shrivelled and sunk into the water, making it foam and an eerie silence hung over the wharf.
But he didn’t have time to take in the full meaning of events. The gore that had fountained from Scylla’s chest had deluged Xander. Human featured now, Spike realised, to his horror that his lover was drowning in the blood. He skittered over to him and wiped the thick sticky goo from the boy’s face. There was no breath. Without thinking Spike cleared Xander’s airway with his fingers. He tipped back the young man’s head, pinched his nose and then sucked air into dead lungs. Forming a complete seal over Xander’s mouth, he exhaled. He turned his head away for another breath. Years of smoking made this action, so unnatural for a vampire, easy. Two more goes and Xander coughed and sat up groggily. Spike smiled at him in unspoken love and stood. He didn’t know it, but he had just accomplished something his Sire hadn’t thought possible.
He sighed and reached into the pockets of his duster. They were thick with blood. He pulled out his lighter and cigarettes. Ruined. He threw them both into the sea.
Giles picked up the sword and started towards the vampire, his face like thunder.
“What is it, Watcher?”
“Just go home, Spike.”
“Now what have I done, apart from save the boy’s life? Monster’s dead ain’t it?”
He shrugged himself out of his coat. The two-inch covering of congealing blood made it heavy and repulsive. He dropped the spoilt garment on the ground. “I don't know what I have to do for you bleeding people?”
“You betrayed us - again.” Spike's gob had rarely been more smacked.
“What the fuck are you jawing about, Bookman?” He couldn't believe that he was having this conversation, standing with demon blood pooling around his boots, but there was more to come. Willow stepped up and slapped him hard around the face.
“That's for trying to kill Tara.”
She went hit him again but he caught her hand, “I wouldn't, Red.” His soft tone dripped ice. His deadly gaze held her furious one. She lowered her hand. Something was eating at his supposed friends. They hadn’t even noticed that he had just brought Xander back from the dead.
“I didn't try to kill Tara. She was standing to my left. I have a blind spot on that side ‘cos the eye’s weaker. I just didn't clock ‘er.”
“Witness here. Bat like blind without the glasses. And when did it become bash the domestic vamp night? Did I not get the memo?” Xander asked, still sounding wheezy. He still couldn’t quite believe what Spike had done for him. He had been there when Angel said it wasn’t possible. “Spike loved him enough to work miracles.” Xander thought but his faith in his lover was about to be shaken even before it had had a chance to cement itself.
“I don't know why you're sticking up for him, he was planning to do you next, you know.” Said Dawn, accusingly.
“What!?” Xander and Spike chorused.
“Willow said. She followed you, well not literally, magically.”
“And she heard me plan to kill Xander?” Now he felt physically sick. If only they knew how much the boy meant to him. It would be inconceivable that he could even think it. Never, chip or no chip, ‘til the sun froze and the moon wept. Xander was his last true love and of that he was certain. He could simply tell them. Fuck, he should tell them but instead he asked, “And just how did you come to this colourful conclusion?”
“You said you wanted to kill the Whelp.” Willow said frowning. Spike’s actions in the last half hour certainly didn’t suggest that murder was on his agenda but he’d done this before.
“We just did. Scylla means whelp in Greek. Anyway why the bloody ‘ell would you think that was Xander? I’ve called him many things,” Spike had that horrible feeling of deja vous. Hadn’t he had this conversation? Somehow he didn’t think this time it was going to end in hot and horny sex. “I called him Special Ed. once but never Whelp.”
Now all eyes were on Willow. “Well, I…er – a…” she stammered but she never finished.
“Vampire, you have double-crossed us!” Tony Viscotti boomed.