Truth Denied

Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall but this chapter... PG13
Warnings: Nothing for this chappie
Short Summary: Xander has a problem, Spike tries to fix it!
Beta: Tamakin

Comments keep my muse well fed.


I've been nominated at The SunnyD Awards for "Best Characterization" of Xander

YAY!! Nomination!! Thanks oh mysterious stranger!


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He’d just put pasta on to boil when he heard the soft knock on his door. He frowned to himself, rather certain he wasn’t expecting any guests, what with never inviting anyone to his place before. Steve and Ben didn’t count, they’d helped him move in and settle, and besides, they’d call first. He picked up a carving knife from the block of kitchen knives, and looked out the peephole, startled to see Xander there. Boy didn’t look well, like he’d been put through the wringer a few times, and Spike could swear there was a vivid bruise flowering along his jaw and cheek.

He flipped the knife in his hands before giving it an underhanded toss into the sink and opened the door. Xander gazed mutely up at him like a deer in headlights. Spike swiftly took in the garbage bags piled about his feet, the duffle, two backpacks… looked like the whelp was leaving. Spike bit back a possessive snarl, and the urge to drag him into the apartment and leave him chained up in the spare room. He couldn’t decide if he was angry because Xander was leaving, or because Xander was leaving him. Not like I own the whelp, he can bloody well leave if he wants to! he argued with the ghost of the demon. It may no longer be there in his mind, yabbering and howling in his minds ears, but it still flavored and influenced him now and again, if he let it.

“Harris…?” He raised a scarred eyebrow, watching him sweat, and fumble with words.

“S-sorry. Look, I’m… I’m not going to be… here.” Xander swallowed, rubbing a sweaty palm on his well worn jeans.

“Here, as in the hallway, or as in the planet earth, or…?” He let the question fade off, letting Xander answer on his own.

Xander fiddled with his belt loop, not quite looking Spike in the face, “M-my apartment. I can’t…,” He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “The cops came.” And he stopped. Like the words just didn’t exist anymore. Spike suddenly placed his hand on Xander’s shoulder and dragged him into the apartment, gritting his teeth at the boy’s flinch at the touch.

“’S alright, just get in here, don’t want the world to know our problems, now do we?” Spike picked up and pushed everything just in the door before closing it. He didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to break past the door downstairs and steal the whelp’s few worldly possessions, but at least this way if anyone happened by there wouldn’t be any odd questions. Xander nodded his mute acceptance, and shuffled past Spike, taking in the 18 foot ceiling and all the white and natural wood Spike had used to decorate his space in nervous silence.

“You in trouble pet?” Spike’s soft voice shook Xander out of his reverie. He wondered what he’d do if Xander said yes. Probably not something he’d be proud of later. Well, he’d be proud, but it would probably be hard to keep living and working, what with jail sentences and all. And my how the Big Bad has fallen, he scowled internally at himself. Time was I woulda ripped the head off’a whatever pissed me off without a second bloody thought. Now? Now I’m all a twitter over staying below the police radar and not slip on the sweat of the previous dancer while I’m shakin’ my naked arse. Oh yeah, that’ll make ‘em sit up and respect me.

“No, no, nothing like that. Upstairs. There… there was an accident.” He looked pale, scared and defeated. Spike didn’t like it when his boy looked defeated. My boy? He sighed to himself, pretty confident that that internal argument wasn’t one he was going to get into anytime soon. Not until he was sure he could win it, anyways. Though to win something, ya gotta know what side yer rootin’ for, now don’t ya?

“Accident? You don’t say. Why you havin’ to leave then?” He guided Xander through the apartment and past the practice mats and other bits to the living room, sitting him down so he could look out the window. He pointedly sitting with his own back to the view, still feeling the tremors of his previous anxiety attack tickling along his mind.

“I… th-th-the police came by,” his voice was barely a whisper.

“So you said. But what happened, pet?” Spike leaned forward, trying to keep his anger out of his voice, knew the boy would take it as aimed towards him… but he was angry. Something bad had to have happened to have shaken Xander up like this. Spike didn’t know what he could do, but he knew he wanted to help. Least I can make my soddin’ mind up about that!

Xander shot him a look from under his shaggy waves, and looked quickly away, almost flinching. “Look, I just… I just came here to ask if you know of any motels I could go to.”

Spike hid a shudder when Xander looked up at him with empty eyes. He searched for the warmth and spark that he’d always seen there before and realized with a jolt it was gone, eclipsed by the emotional walls Xander had put up. He sighed to himself and settled back in his chair again, giving Xander and himself some space.

“Not any place that you’d want to go to. Most motels ‘round here are those ‘by the hour’ joints.” Spike wracked his brain frantically, trying to think of what to do for the boy. He really couldn’t think of any motel or hostel where the boy would be safe, but there was no one he’d trust to send the boy to. Could let him stay here, got the space, doubt he’d take it though, probably think it was charity. He frowned internally, carefully keeping his expression neutral, as he thought on how to solve this. Maybe Ben and Steve… of course!

“Listen, I got a perfect solution,” he waited until he was sure Xander was focused on him. “Ben and Steve are leavin’, yeah? For that vacation of theirs? I’m house sittin’ for ‘em while they’re away, an’ I’d feel much safer ‘bout my place if I knew someone was here for a few hours now an’ again during the day. How’s that sound?” Spike felt no shame at the easy lie. He watched Xander’s face carefully, waiting to see that first spark return to the dull brown empty eyes. He wasn’t disappointed.

“I’m not… you can’t just trust me like that!” Xander sat up straight, a look of pure astonishment on his face. Spike wished he had been able to keep his keen sense of smell, to taste the scent of Xander’s emotions so he could know when he was pushing too hard or not hard enough. He hated being this blind to the nuances and feelings he used to be able to just pull from the air… now he had to guess and hope he wasn’t mucking things up worse than they already were.

“Why not? Know who you are, remember? You’re not a stranger to me.”

“I’m not the same person anymore Spike,” Xander looked away again, locking his eyes on some point past the darkened window.

“Look” Spike sighed, “’s not like I’m not gonna be comin’ back for a change of clothes an’ a shower everyday.” He smiled placatingly at Xander. “And I really would feel better ‘bout the place if someone stayed here during the night, wasn’t lyin’ about that. If anything big happens downstairs, there’s a button wired to set off an alarm in here. You’d just call me if it went off.”

He didn’t mention that he could have forwarded the alarm to his cell phone, or that Steve and Ben had actually never asked him to housesit, though he knew they’d let him, and probably ask no questions. They were easy going like that. But he couldn’t quite understand why he was doing this. Once again he’d effectively lied to the boy, just to protect him, to help him, ease his way, and once again he was at a loss to explain why.

Xander frowned, and flapped his mouth open and closed a couple of times, before sighing and resting his head in his hands. There wasn’t any way he could think of to get out of this situation. At least it was a roof over his head while he looked for a new place. Hopefully he’d find a new place before Spike kicked him out again. “Fine. I mean, I mean thank you.” Xander blushed high on his cheeks.

“Welcome. Now c’mon, let me show you ‘round the flat, get you all acquainted,” he smiled at Xander and reached out a hand to pull him to his feet. His smile broadened when Xander took it. He pulled the brunet to his feet in one easy, smooth motion, feeling the heat radiating from him, even though Spike had his own now. If he took too deep a breath, their chests would brush and possibly press against each other, they were that close. He took a shuddering breath in and scrambled for something to say, anything, but his spinning thoughts were hard to bring under control.

Finally, a question made its way to the top of the heap, an old predators instincts finally kicking in with a whining warning. “Wait a mo’, how’d you find me?” Spike frowned while taking a step back, letting go of Xander’s hand. His addled thoughts were finally back under his control and his self preservation instincts were finally screaming at him that something wasn’t quite right. It should have been close to impossible for the boy to have found the door, well no. He could have found the door easily enough but he shouldn’t have been able to tell his apartment was on the other side. It was a plain metal door, painted blue like all the other service doors for the club. Plus, you had to have a key to get in it, and Xander had been at the top of the stairs instead of ringing the bell at the bottom.

“It was Steve. He had to sign off on a shipment of something before he left, and he saw me right as he was leaving. He brought me up here to talk to you.” Xander still couldn’t bring himself to look Spike in the face, and Spike didn’t know quite what to make of that. At least Spike’s instincts were finally calming down with the rational explanation.

What’d the bloody whelp do? Spike couldn’t think of anything, and it worried him. Though it worried him more that he was worrying in the first place. What’d it matter anyways? Not like I’d loose much sleep over The Donut Boy’s having to leave all of a sudden. Was fine before he was here, I’ll be fine after. What the soddin’ hell is the matter with me?