Turnabout

“Spike, NO!!!” Terror tore the cry from his lips, only to have it fade into silence as he took in the sight before him. Spike stood witms ams akimbo, face upturned to the sun. And no smoke. No fire. Xander took a cautious step toward the silent figure.

“Um, Spike? Why aren’t you on fire?” He strove for calm, even though his heart was screaming that this had to be the beginning of some new apocalyptic prophecy or another. Didn’t it have to be a sign of something strange and horrible when vampires didn’t burn up in the sun? What if it wasn’t just Spike and suddenly all vampires could go out in the daylight? Xander shook off visions of vampires running through the park, munching on joggers and ripping babies from strollers.

“I’m warm.” The wondering whisper fell from Spike’s lips. He turned to look at Xander, arms still raised at his sides. “Fee, I’, I’m warm.” The vampire’s voice shook as he held out a hand toward the stunned human.

As Xander touched the outstretched fingers, Spike pulled him closer and pressed the living hand against his black t-shirt. “Can you feel it? I’m warm. God, Xander, it’s been so long. So bloody long.”

Xander pressed his palm against the thin cotton, feeling the sun-warmed material spread over the cool, hard chest. He stared in amazement.

“How?” He managed. “You’re still a vampire, right? I mean, you drank blood and everything.” He trailed off as he met Spike’s gaze. Tears welled in those clear, blue eyes, and Xander watched one spill over to trail down a pale cheek. Unwilling to move his right hand from Spike’s chest, he reached up with his left to cup that sharp jaw and gently brush the lone tear away with his thumb.

“How long has it been since you got to stand in the sun?”

“Feels like forever.” Spike broke his gaze and released Xander’s hand. “S’pose it’s not been that long, though. Got to play in the sun with that soddin’ gem, didn’t I?” He began to pace, avoiding the shadows in order to stay in the direct light. “’Course I was too busy chasing down the Slayer to enjoy it proper. Stupid bugger, eh?”

“Goal-oriented,” Xander offered, trying not to focus on the sudden loss of physical contact. “That was one of the first things I learned about you.” He laughelf-elf-deprecatingly, remembering his response to Angel’s description of the blond vamp in the Sunnydale library so many years ago.

“Obsessive more like.” Spike was unable to keep the grin off his face as he stretched his hands out once more. He thought back to his dismissal of walking in the sun as merely a means to attack Buffy. The frown returned to his face as he recalled that fight.

“You were there. Jumped in to take on the goal-oriented, indestructible vampire, if I remember right.”

“Yeah,” Xander winced. “Got the usual knocked on my ass for that one.”

Spike looked abashed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No big.” Xander shrugged. “That was another lifetime.” He quickly changed the subject. “So no ring this time. What’s up with the new sunbathing abilities?”

“Dunno.”

“Did you know you wouldn’t burn up when you,” he struggled to get the words out as the image of Spike bursting into flames returned, “um, took the leap into the sun?”

Spike sensed the man’s distress and led him back to the bench where they could sit side by side. He gathered his thoughts, not an easy task as he found himself lulled by the combination of the sun’s rays and the warmth of Xander’s thigh next to his. He wanted to wrap himself up in both sources of heat, but a glance at the human’s worried eye brought his attention back to consideration of the question.

“I didn’t know,” he grasped Xander’s knee and faced him straight on as he heard the heartbeat race. “I suspected. I felt, I dunno, different.” He struggled to find a way to explain what was almost an unconscious vampiric understanding. “Usually even in the shade I can feel the sun, like little prickles racing over my skin. S’why vamps stay inside during the day. Bloody irritatin’ feeling.”

“But today was different?”

“First time I noticed feeling different.” He frowned.

“Stupid question. I guess it’s not like vamps test out the whole walking in the sun thing every day.”

“Nah, most of us catch onto the sunlight frying the flesh off our bones aspect of being a vampire pretty quick.” He smirked and rolled his eyes.

“So what made today different than, say, yesterday?”

“Didn’t go outside yesterday. Today’s the first time since I crawled up out of the Hellmouth that I’ve been this close to the sun, and it felt, I dunno, different somehow. No prickles. It felt like being out at night.” Spike shrugged. “So I had to know.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “More than just about anything, I missed the sun. Bein’ outside and smellin’ the heat on the grass. I used to spend whole days walking in Hyde Park, reading in the shade, watching the birds. Stupid poncey stuff. Right nancy-boy, I was. But then one night it was all gone. No more sun. No more afternoons in the park.”

Xander lifted a hand to touch the sun-warmed cheek. While moonlight made Spike appear ethereal, the vampire fairly glowed in the sunshine. Pale skin became white under the sun’s rays. He briefly wondered if Spike would freckle and tried to picture the Big Bad threatening helpless victims with a dusting of Pollyanna freckles across his nose and cheeks.

Peace and wonder fairly radiated off the vampire, and Xander couldn’t resist the sense that he was touching the emotion as he touched the smooth skin. It had been so long since he felt peace, and it drew him despite knowing it threatened to take the vampire further away from him. A souled Spike who could walk in the sun. He belonged with Buffy and the Watcher’s Council more than even Angel ever would.

Spike came back to himself at the tender touch, subtly leaning in closer, wanting more contact. Contentmentummeummed through him for the first time since he had come upon Xander, broken and lost in that hotel room, and he wanted to share that feeling. He registered that the hum hea heartbeat had returned to a regular rate, and he sensed the relief. But without the panic and fear surrounding the man, the underlying sadness bled through. In the face of his own good fortune, that sadness tugged at his unbeating heart.

“Xan?” He focused on the drawn face, not wanting to break the moment, but needing more connect with the man than the tentative touch of fingertips provided. He needed to hear Xander’s voice, to know what the boy was feeling before he could trust in the tenderness of the fingers brushing his cheek.

“Sorry.” Fingers were snatched away as Xander shifted away on the bench. “Just kinda fascinating, you know? Not in a circus freak way or anything. Although I guess if they still had circus freaks, then you’d qualify. Step right up and see the evil undead vampire walk in the sun without bursting into flames. On second thought, I guess that wn’t n’t really be that much of a show. And I’m doing the Willow-babble again. Sorry.” He clapped a hand over his mouth dramatically.

Spike chuckled. The intense mood was broken, but some of the contentedness remained.

“S’alright.”

“So were you looking for me for a reason?” Xander dropped the hand and shifted the conversation.

“Nah,” Spike evaded. “Just was up and saw you weren’t in your room. Thought I’d see what you were up to.”

“Right. ‘Cause you wouldn’t be checking up on me or anything, and you were just up because you’re such a morning person.” Xander offered the skepticism without bitterness.

“Sod off. I’m allowed to do what I want.” Spike nearly sulked, but remembered that not only was he checking up on Xander but also that his coddling instinct was what brought about the fact that they were sharing the bright Los Angeles sunshine together.

“So what do you want?” Xander turned an intense gaze on the vampire.

“Truth?” Spike returned the gaze, trying to read all pos possible meanings in the question.

“Truth.”

“I want to know why I’m back. Why now. Why here.”

Xander nodded his acknowledgement. He got all that, but he knew there was more since none of those questions had anything to do with why the vampire seemed determined to rescue him.

Intense blue eyes suddenly glittered as Spike grabbed the reigns of the conversation once more. “Your turn. What do you want?”

“We’re talking about you here,” Xander shifted uncomfortably.

“Tit for tat, mate. I gave you an answer, you give me one. What do you want, Xander?” Spike kept his voice low and even despite the fear that the boy would bolt or blow him off. He recognized it was a gamble to push for trust when he’d been blown off every time the conversation came close to exposing Xander’s pain.

“I want,” Xander hesitated, deliberating which answer to give. “I’m a fucking coward, Spike.” He laughed harshly and stood to stare into the shallow pool at the base of the fountain. “I want out. I want the pain to stop.” He wrapped his arms around himself, and when he continued, his voice barely rose above a whisper. “I think I want to be dead.”

Spike’s heart broke again at the admission. He rose and carefully came to stand next to Xander. Close but not quite touching.

“I should be, you know. It should have been me buried under the Hellmouth. Not…not Anya. She only got to be human for such a short time. And the potentials, shit, they just got to become slayers, and then, wham! They’re dead. Or you. God, Spike, you only just got back your soul. All of you had so much more reason to get out of there alive, not get screwed over and killed for trying to stop the big evil. And what the hell do I have to offer? Fucking mediocre carpentry skills and the ability to pick out a well-rounded variety of donuts.” His voice rose as each bitter recrimination fell from his lips. Thoughts he had been unable to share with any of the other Sunnydale survivors broke free, each one making way for the next. “The Hellmouth ate so many people alive, and I should have been one of them. Sometimes I know that it was supposed to be me all those years ago, not Jesse who got vamped. It should have been me. I want it to have been me.” He shook his head as his voice broke.

Spike didn’t recognize the name, but he heard and felt the pain throbbing through Xander. He moved to grasp his friend, determined to make contact with Xander through the pain.

“No.” He offered the judgment with quiet force. He tightened his grip on the wasted arms. “How many times have you helped save the world, you daft git? We needed you here, not blowing in the wind. I don’t know who this Jesse bloke was, but better him than you. Slayer would have had to dust you, and what do you think that would have done to her to hafta dust one of her best friends?”

Xander gave a sharp, angry laugh that contrasted with the tears that suddenly rolled down his cheeks. “Yeah, Spike, I know. But it wasn’t like that back then. I’d known Buffy for a total of what, three days? She would’ve staked me easy. Instead I got to stake the guy who’d been my best friend since almost before I could walk. So sorry, but that argument doesn’t work. Don’t try to fix it. Who’s to say he wouldn’t have been ten times better at the whole world-save-age thing than me? And without the little bonuses of love-spells gone wrong and needing to be rescued from demons every other week.”

“Xan.”

“Spike, don’t. Just fucking don’t.” Xander tried to e hie him off, but was no match for determined vampire strength.

“Shut up and listen to me.” The revelation that Xander had had to stake his best friend only days after learning that the things that went bump in the night were real shocked the vampire, and understanding clicked in. All the hatred and fear of vampires that the boy had expressed throughout the years Spike had known him suddenly made sense in a new light. But right now, he needed to find a way to fight through the self-loathing that had finally brought the Scooby to the brink of self-destruction.

“Please, Spike, please don’t be nice to me and don’t try to make it all better.” Xander spoke frantically, afraid to be cut off. “Don’t tell me it’s going to be okay, because it’s never okay. Someone always gets hurt. Someone always dies. I just want it to be my turn. I want it to be my turn to get out, to not be the one left behind.” His pleading eye met the vampire’s worried gaze. “It’s why I had to leave. Don’t you see? After you and Anya, I couldn’t lose anyone else. But if I get dragged back here, if I let myself care about people again, then one of them will die. And I can’t go through that again.” His voice broke completely as he choked out the last words, “I can’t lose anyone else. I just can’t.”

Spike pulled him into a tight embrace as Xander’s sobs shuddered through him. He rubbed one hand soothingly up and down the man’s back, murmuring comfort. He knew that this storm had to break before Xander could face what it meant to have been brought back into the Scooby world with Spike’s reappearance. After a few long moments, Xander moved to pull away. Spike let him. Together, they returned to the bench.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you,” Xander asked dully.

“That what you really want, pet?”

“It’s what I want to want,” Xander paused, “if that makes any sense.”

“Why?”

“It’s the only way to stay safe.”

“Safe?”

“As in not going through the pain of watching more of my friends die.”

“Because you wouldn’t feel anything if the slayer or Red or the watcher bought the farm.” Spike offered skeptically.

“At least I wouldn’t be there, and if they didn’t know how to find me, I never had to hear about it. I could always imagine them taking out the evil of the day and making it back to Council headquarters in time for tea.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Tea?”

“Whatever. You know what I mean.”

“Sounds an awful lot like the Sunnydale populace’s general way of dealing—if I don’t see the big uglies, then they must not exist.” Spike shook his head. “Never would have worked for you, mate.”

“I know,” Xander answered quietly.

“That why you decided you needed to get yourself sucked off?” Spike pinned him with a knowing gaze. Xander shrugged and looked away. “Makes life simple for a bit, doesn’t it. All that power—your blood givin’ life, their demons pulling out the pain.” Xander nodded slowly at Spike’s hypnotic tone. “Those fangs sink in, and it burns like bleedin’ hell for just a moment before your blood rushes out, and they’re worshipping the life that beats under your skin, needing what only a warm body can offer.” Spike shifted closer on the bench. “Did it make you hard? Knowing they wanted you? Knowing you were playin’ with life and death, comin’ that close to destruction and evil?” Xander swallowed heavily and nodded even as shame colored his cheeks.

“I…”

“You what?” Spike nearly purred. His soul chastised him for leading Xander back into the throes of his addiction, while his demon yearned to grab the mortal and drink deeply. Arousal hung in the air between them, both turned on by Spike’s words.

“God, Spike, I know it’s wrong, but it’s all those things you said. It’s escape and pain and sex, and it made me…not me for a little while. You know what I mean?” He searched the blue eyes for condemnation, but found compassion, and that broke his final resistance. “I needed it so much, and then I couldn’t stop. I told myself Buffy and Willow would hate me. That Dawn would be disgusted and Giles would be so disappointed. But it didn’t matter. Thinking about them just made it worse, and then I wanted to escape even more. And even though you and Angel pretty much destroyed the vamps for me, part of me just wants to go back there and have everything be like it was.” He hung his head at the admission.

“One of ‘em would have killed you someday, Spike offered starkly.

“I know. How sick is it that every time I went, I hoped that would be the day?”

“And if they ever figured out your connection the slayer, they’d’ve turned you and sent you after her.” Spike pushed. He needed to know Xander understood the extent of his danger and the possible consequences of his choices. He took in the shudder that went through the man and the eye suddenly squeezed shut in pain as that unpalatable truth struck home.

Spike lifted Xander’s chin to meet his gaze. “No more. It doesn’t happen again.”

“I can’t promise that,” Xander admitted bitterly.

“Then it looks like I’m gonna have to keep an eye on you.”

“But you’re leaving.” Xander silently cursed himself for the desperation that colored his words.

“Huh?” Spike looked lost.

“I mean, you’re going to London, right? Well, I’m not going there. Sorry, but no way, not gonna happen.” Xander crossed his arms.

“Xander,” Spike began carefully, “why would I be going to London?”

Xander just stared at him. If he spoke it aloud, it would only make the fact more real, and Xander didn’t have the courage to bring the inevitable parting that much closer. Already he could feel the regret building over letting Spike in and grasping onto the connection between them. He could feel himself struggling to rebuild defenses.

Spike sensed the man closing down and did the first thing that came to mind. He placed a hand on either side of Xander’s face and leaned close.

“I’m not going to London. I’m not lookin’ to team up with the new slayers. And I’m not going after Buffy.” He saw disbelief and hope vie for dominance. “That’s over, Xan. Amazin’ what a little immolation’ll do to clear the mind, but I know she doesn’t love me, and I’m not gonna keep fightin’ that.” He moved one hand to brush back a lock of hair that fell across Xander’s forehead, and a wave of tenderness flowed through him. The sense of ‘home’ returned even more strongly as he spoke his determination aloud.

“You need me, Xan. You asked me what I want. I want to stay with you. I want to help you find your way back to yourself. I want you to be safe and whole. I want…” He stopped himself, leaving the ‘you’ unspoken but it seemed to hang in the air between them.

Xander closed his eye against the tears that threatened again. He wanted to close out Spike’s words even as they burned into his mind. Hope threatened, and hope hurt.

Spike’s sun-warmed palms returned to Xander’s cheeks. He slowly leaned forward to brush his cool lips against the man’s full, warm mouth. Xander trembled as he struggled to keep still, to not jump up aun…aun…anywhere, away. To give in to those gentle lips meant trusting in Spike’s care. It meant allowing himself to care for another someone who could be suddenly ripped from him. The arguments swam through his mind as his body responded to the gradually increasing pressure of Spike’s mouth on his. Lust tingled through him to pool in his groin, bringing his cock to semi-hardness immediately. This was his fantasy come true. The time spent under Ramone’s ministrations didn’t begin to compare to the reality of kissing Spike. Kissing Spike. Spike was kissing him. Spike wanted him. Xander’s mind began to catch up with his body, and he opened his lips to the cool, probing tongue, emitting a low moan as he allowed Spike entrance to his mouth.

A howl of triumph rang through Spike’s head as he felt Xander’s internal battle shift and his resistance lower. The pheromones swirled around them, and Spike wanted nothing more than to lose himself in that desire, to hold that warm body against him, naked in the sun. His erection pressed insistently against his jeans. But fearing to press the boy too far, too fast, Spike swept his tongue over those warm lips one last time before pulling back to gaze at flushed cheeks and the slightly glazed-over expression in Xander’s eye.

Desire thickened the air, and without thinking, Xander responded to the need rolling through him by tilting his head to the side, offering his neck to the vampire before him.

Spike froze. The tanned skin spread before him, barely concealing the pumping blood beneath. Hunger and the desire to touch, hold, take the boy now vied for dominance over the horror that Xander would so thoughtlessly offer himself up. Underneath it all, a niggling fear grew that Xander was responding to his addiction and thus to Spike as a generic vampire stand-in.

Carefully, Spike leaned forward to touch his lips to the offered flesh, letting himself be pulled in by the intoxicating lust that swirled around them.

Desire jolted through Xander as he anticipated the bite, the feeling of losing himself utterly to Spike. He clenched and unclenched his hands, struggling to keep from reaching for his straining cock as his arousal grew.

Cool lips ghosted a kiss against the warm neck strostrong fingers cupped the back of the human’s head, holding him still.

Xander held his breath, waiting for the razor prick of fangs. A long moment drew out and he frowned when, instead of fangs, he felt a smooth, human forehead rest against his bared shoulder.

“Spike?” he asked uncertainly.

Taking a ragged, unneeded breath, Spike removed his hand from the back of Xander’s head and sat up.

“I said no more, luv. Not even me.” He leveled a stern gaze at the disconcerted man. His determination faltered as he watched that beautiful face close down once again, shame and hurt sweeping away tpen pen desire. Regret panged through the vampire, but better for both of them to set this necessary boundary.

“For now, Xan,” he relented. “Just for now, pet.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Xander got up abruptly, berating himself for his stupidity. Two minutes into opening himself up to Spike, and he already screwed it up. Worse, he couldn’t honestly tell himself that he hadn’t been, at least in part, giving in to the temptation to escape into the familiar pain regardless of whether or not it was Spike who did the biting. His hard-on wilted as his self-loathing returned full-force.

“I’m gonna go for a walk.” He grabbed the coffee mug from the ground where he had placed it and turned to go back into the hotel.

“Best not. You don’t know this place. All kinds of beasties live in the city.” Spike tried for nonchalance. He clamped down on the panic that rose as he thought about Xander taking the opportunity to run. Damn, he just wanted to do what was best for Xander, and now he’d alienated him once more.

“Spike, it’s daylight. I’ll be fine,” Xander didn’t bother to stop or turn around.

“Demon-magnet, remember? Vamps aren’t the only thing to worry about around here.” Spike hated himself for pointing out Xander’s tendency to stumble into demon clutches, but he couldn’t bear to let the man out of his sight. While he could now trail Xander during the day—and didn’t that send another little thrill through him—convincing the boy to stay in the hotel would probably lead to fewer hard feelings in the long run than catching Spike trailing after him through the city.

“Fine.” Xander ground out. “I’m going back to the room. I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone for a while.” He continued into the hotel, back stiff with tension.

As Spike debated following him in and trying to clarify what had just occurred between them, the sharp trill of the telephone pierced out. Spike had no intention of being his Sire’s guy Friday, so he let it ring.

“If you’re trying to reach Angel Investigations, our number has changed. You can reach us at 310-555-4696, otherwise please wait for the tone and leave a message. Thanks and have a great day!” Spike curled up his lip at the perky soft southern accent. Must be one of the poof’s humans.

Beeeeeeep.

“Spike? Xander? You better be there. I told you that I might need to get in touch with you today. Spike? Spikef yof you don’t pick up this phone right now, I’m going to send somebody over there to…”

Spike picked up the phone. The tension in Angel’s voice came through in the first word, and tense Angel meant that his and Xander’s lives were about to get complicated. Or more complicated.

“What?”

“I need you to come to the office. Now. Bring Xander.” The terse tone brooked no room for argument.

“What for?” He wasn’t exactly arguing. Just asking for more information is all. Spike smirked as he turned his attention from the fractured human upstairs to focus on irritating his demanding Sire.

“Not over the phone.”

“Thought you didn’t want me there. Keepin’ the lawyers in the dark and all.”

“Apparently that’s not an issue any longer.” Spike could hear the weary frustration in Angel’s voice, and he took pity.

“’K. Gonna need directions.”

“There’s a map of the sewer tunnels in the reception desk. The path to Wolfram & Hart is marked in red. There’s a sewer entrance in the basement of the hotel. The exit will bring you to the firm’s parking garage. Come in to the lobby and take the elevators to the fourteenth floor. No one should stop you. Take Xander with you. I don’t want him or you traveling alone.”

“Got it.” Spike thought for a brief moment about informing Angel of the lack of necessity to travel by sewer any longer, but decided that was a revelation best kept for the perfect moment.

“Good. Spike,” Angel paused, “be careful.”

The phone disconnected before Spike could respond. He replaced the receiver and prepared himself to go against Xander’s expressed wishes and invade his space once more. Before he could move toward the stairs, the phone jangled out again. Despite the irritating noise, he determined to screen the caller. Even if his resurrection was common knowledge at Wolfram & Hart, he wasn’t overly eager to announce it to any and all callers.

“…have a great day!” Beeeeeep.

“Spike? Spike!” Spike snatched up the phone at the sound of Angel’s voice.

“What now?”

“I need you to bring something with you. There’s a box in my room. It’s steel. About the size of a shoe-box. It’s in the back of the closet. And Spike? Not Not. Open. It.” Angel growled. Spike rolled his eyes. Looks like he was going to be the poof’s errand boy after all.

“Anything else?” He snarked.

“No. Just get here.” The line disconnected once more.

Muttering under his breath about not being some lackey to a vampire with delusions of grandeur, Spike made his way across the lobby. This time he mad thd three steps before the phone rang again.

He stalked back to the desk and yanked the receiver off the hook before the machine could answer.

“Look you wanker, I’ll get your soddin’ box, but I’m not some minion who’s gonna lick yer arse and do yer bidding! Now sod off!”

Silence met this growled greeting before a stuttering voice said, “Dear Lord. Spike?”

Repressing a groan, Spike banged his head against the counter and swore that he could hear the watcher cleaning his glasses furiously thousands of miles away. No point denying it.

“Yeah, Rupes, I’m back.”