3 Inches

*

3 Inches
Chapter 02


Slu in in defeat, erinering from shock, if that is possible for a vampire, Spike sits and looks up at Xander, as if the boy had all the answers to his questions. Xander is still staring at the little Vamp in awe.

“Wow.” He says at last. “You’re not dead.”
“Wish I were though. Well, technically I am, but final death would be better than this.” He shrugs his tiny shoulders in a helpless gesture. The boy feels a sudden pang in his heart at Spike’s admission. It sounded so honest and he doesn’t doubt the vamp means it.

“Come on…” Biting his tongue, he catches himself just before letting a casual insult slip from his lips. “Spike. It’s only for a while.” He frowns inwardly at his white knight, who encourages him to say something reassuring. “Erm… I bet Willow can fix this and if she can’t, Giles will…” He trails off, realizing how much doubt underlies his words.
“Red did this?” Spike fakes surprise, little scarred eyebrow cocked.
“She just wanted to…”
“The hell she just! You and I, we both know there is something coming up on the horizon of her future and it’s not the bloody sun.” He spits, and Xander can’t help but nod. Yeah, Willow has gotten kinda overboard since…

“Be a mate and give me shinghing to cover up?” Spike interrupts his way of thinking and Xander nods, getting to his feet. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get you something… erm… a handkerchief?” Xander holds up the clean but wrinkled piece of white fabric.
“Anything will do right now.” Spike murmurs uninterestedly and takes it from the large, slightly unsteady hand that holds it out for him. He struggles with the handkerchief, which for him is as big as a 7 by 7 feet blanket. Xander looks away from the expression on Spike’s face. Big bad is near tears.

Finally Spike is tucked into it safely. “Better?” Xander asks and flinches, waiting for the snarky answer. To his surprise Spike’s only reply is “Yes.”
Spike turns away, he doesn’t want to see the look of pity in the youth’s eyes.

On Spike’s back there is a large red stain; blood is seeping through the handkerchief.
“You’re injured, Spike.” Xander states, voice hoarse, from seeing the red stain spreading further.
“’S nothing.” Spike shivers and it’s the last straw for Xander, he has to do something. This indifferent, tame Spike makes his skin crawl. It doesn’t feel right.
“I don’t think so.” He says, and lowers his hand down to the chair directly in front of the three inch Spike. “You up for a lift to the kitchen?” He says, and grins at the frowning blond. “Come on Spike, get on my hand. I won’t let you fall. I promise.” Words uttered without thought but they both get the honest meaning behind them. This is Xander helping and comforting Spike. And it feels good – to both of them.

Spike still looks suspicious, but nevertheless, climbs on the big calloused hand.
“OH!” Spike exclaims and Xander looks down at the blond. He looks like he took a spin in the tumbler, the hair tousled and his skin smeared with dust, the wrinkled white handkerchief now with red stains on his side where the blood has already made its way around, but over all that now: A look of pure bliss on Spike’s face.
“What ‘Oh’?” Xander asks, smiling because Spike is. He lifts his hand up, carefully cupping it around his tiny weight, using his other hand to make it even safer for Spike.
“This is – bloody hell – like a big, pulsing electric blanket! All warm and soft and…” He stops himself, ashamed by his poncy eruption about a warm hand. The youth holding the small vampire in his hand, chuckles a bit, making Spike bounce up and down on his palm, against his efforts to keep his hands still. “It’s okay, Spike. I’m glad that not everything of this state you are in is bad.” And where did that come from? “I think we’d better get some blood in you, so you can heal before you get blood stains on your … electric blanket.”

Slowly Xander makes his way over to the kitchen. “Hope you don’t get travel sick.” Xander jokes and Spike laughs for the first time, dte tte the spell and his injury. “I won’t puke on you, you git!” He replies and looks up into Xanderonceoncentrated face, the tip of the youth’s tongue poking out through his lips.

“So, here we are.” Xander says finally and lets the back of his hand rest on the counter so Spike can climb down, which he does, even if he only reluctantly leaves the surrounding warmth. Xander gets out a very sharp, pointy knife and a blood bag, lays both on the counter while he searches for a cup on the shelf. Fascinated, Spike stares at the blood bag, nearly as high as he is himself. Xander sets the cup down besides Spike, comparing their height and finding the vampire isn’t even able to look over the rim without effort.

“Erm…”
“Can I pour the blood into a bowl and swim in it?” Spike asks, eyes as big as… well saucers his size.
“Erm…”
“Always wanted to swim in blood!” Spike says dreamily.
“Spike… it’s pig’s blood.” The blond’s face contorts into a mask of distaste. “Ah yes. Right. Never dreamed of swimming in pig’s blood.” The hopeless expression slips back into his eyes and Xander takes the knife.
“Tell you what Spike… you only need a tiny amount of blood. Only a droplet or two and the bag is way too big and it would all go to waste and … ouch.” Spike jerks around just in time to see Xander put the knife back on the counter and then his nose is filled with the smell of fresh human blood. Involuntarily, Spike moans.

Xander holds out his ringger,ger, a tiny droplet of blood welling up from where he pierced himself with the pointy knife tip. “I swear you are drooling.” He says smiling and looks how Spike slowly comes forward. “You won't pull back, will you? You’re not teasing, right? It’s all for me?” Tiny blue eyes look up, surprise, mistrust and want mirrored clearly.

Xander wants to point out that he wouldn't go to all this trouble, just to tease the bleached blond, wants to joke how Spike would burst before he himself would even feel dizzy from blood loss. But he doesn't.

"You want me to … pour it into … something?" Spike looks up, slightly bouncy from excitement, despite his injury, game face to the fore that just looks cute now it's all so small and not frightening at all. Of course, Xander wouldn't say that out loud.. Thoughtfully – a look that really doesn't go with the game face – little Spike nods and looks around searchingly. Finally Xander produces a spoon from one of the drawers and puts it down on the counter top. He lets the two big droplets of blood drip onto it before sticking the finger in his own mouth and isn't that just kinda strange? Spike, in the meantime, is on his knees, his hands cupped, he dips them into the ruby fluid and up to his mouth where he greedily slurps it up.

Xander watches the tiny figure closely, the look of pure bliss on the blood-smeared face, blood-smeared hands and arms up to the elbows, blood stains that are not getting bigger anymore on the make-shift tunic. Eventually, when the spoon is all shiny again, Spike staggers to his feet, swaying as if drunk and looks up at Xander, eyes content, like a summer sky blue. "Ta, m…" Mate, Xander guesses Spike wanted to say but lets out a quick burp instead that makes the youth chuckle and Spike smiles nearly … shyly?

"Would give a virgin for a hot long soak in a tub." Spike sighs sleepily and Xander frowns just for a second before he raids the cupboards n, gn, getting out a small oval lasagne dish, the rim about an inch high.
"You think this'll do?" Xander asks holding it out for Spike's inspection. The blond’s eyes light up. "Sure, yes that would be…" Just in time he catches himself again from showing a bit too much enthusiasm than would be good for his big bad reputation. "…good."

Without another word, Xander turns on the water and waits for it to warm, testing it with the inside of his elbow for the right temperature, then filling the dish. He sets it down and grabs the two empty packs of cornflakes, sets them up so Spike will be shielded from any curious looks, giving the little big bad a bit of privacy.

Spike has watched what Xander's doing with half narrowed eyes, not sure what surprises Xander has for him next. To show he cares for the not-so-big-bad is enough for Xander Harris, passionate vampire hater, in one day and it already confuses the hell out of Spike's brain. While he thinks about the unexpected changes in the boy, staring at the make-shift btub,tub, he hasn't even realized that Xander has gone to the bathroom and came back with a bar of soap and a dry washcloth as a towel substitute. "Think this'll do best," Xander says and sets the soap down beside the lasagne dish. "You can take as much as you like from it and we don't risk you choking on bubbles." The 'we' Xander used rings loud in both their ears and Spike nods curtly once, before he disappears behind the cornflake packets. Seconds later, the splatter of water and a deep contented sigh can be heard. Xander grins to himself. Mission accomplished. Huh? Which mission?

Twenty minutes later, Xander has set up the highest drawer of his bedside cupboard as a make-shift-crypt for Spike with the help of a small dark blue towel and several handkerchiefs, partly folded as pillows, some as blankets. He also made himself ready fed, ed, slipping on a comfortable t-shirt and boxers. He finds Spike, tucked into the washcloth, sitting on the edge of the counter, legs hanging down, staring down at the floor with a far away expression on his face. To Xander he looks like someone about to commit suicide, sitting on the edge of a high building, getting up the courage to jump.

"Will it kill you?" He asks carefully, so as not to startle thmp, mp, even though he must have heard Xander like a human hears an elephant storming towards him.
"Don't think so." Comes the mumbled reply. "But it'll hurt a lot." Spike chuckles. "Was waiting for you to give me a lift." He says, cocking his eyebrow in a suggestive manner, to lessen the effect of him needing to ask for help.
"Well, come on then. Time for good little vamps to go to bed!" Xander jokes and regrets it as soon as he hears Spike growl.

"You know I di mea mean it like that!" He relents. "It's just a saying. I was not making fun of you." No, Xander really wasn't. He would never make fun of someone for something they are not responsible for. He knows how much that hurts, hearing others joke about something you aren't able to change. Like your drunken parents. Or your clothes, when you don't have money for new ones.

Spike has already climbed onto his hand again, so he makes his way over to the bed, setting the vamp gently down in the drawer. Spike wonders again what happened to the Harris he knew, when he takes in tearlearly lovingly set up sleeping arrangements.

"I'll push the drawer nearly closed, so you can feel…" safe, he wanted to say but instead continues. "…on your own. If you need anything, wake me." I'm just here, beside you. He clamps his mouth shut and tells his white knight to shut up too, Spike is not the damsel in distress; he is a shrunken vamp for god's sake! He climbs in the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders, turns his back to Spike.

Some seconds later: "Harris?"
"Mhm."
"Thanks… mate. I… I am in your debt."
"Night Spike."
"Yes, right."

*