The Stray

PART 7

Sunday started much as Saturday had, though the pace was slower. Xander did wake just on dawn but simply got up let Spike out and left the back door open (again) but this time apparently on purpose, then went back to bed and allowed himself to sleep in.

Spike did his usual and then eyed off the small section of fence down the side of the house – if he could jump it he could get out and back into the property at will, not that he necessarily wanted to, or even needed to, it was just a matter of principle. Xander’s bedroom was on the other side of the house so it was a simple matter… If he didn’t make it no matter, all the scrabbling in the world would not be heard.

He paced backwards, eyed off the five foot or so fence as any Olympic high jumper might then sprinted as fast as he could over the fifteen or so meters and took off with his hind legs as hard as he could. Memories of vertical jumps as a vampire and the combination of his canine genetics (Husky ¾ and German shepherd 1/4) saw him all but soar over the fence with ease, sure he had to scrabble a bit on the way back – but it was a little bit of an uphill rise so in fact was higher on the return – but there was still no problem really.

He was his own keeper now in a way. It almost felt like the liberation of moving into the crypt after being the ‘captive vampire’ of the Scoobies when he first had his chip. He did it once more, just for reassurance then went inside, pushing the door closed as he had on the previous day. But he was too buzzed to be able to simply rest and wait, so instead decided to do a little of his own snooping around the house.

Xander’s furniture was a combination of a few nice pieces: plasma television, one good couch, one obviously second hand, and a variety of incidentals – tables, lamps, indoor plants and objects obviously collected from… overseas? Spike inspected the collection in the lounge room, the numerous pieces of art on the walls and rolled his eyes at the dust buster on charge in the corner next to the fake fire. He had never picked Xander as a neat freak but now looking at the house more carefully, it was not only tidy for a ‘bachelor house’, but tastefully arranged and extremely clean.

The study was more interesting. Though his dog form would not cooperate with the filing cabinet (yet – he *would* find a way!), there was enough on the shelves to tell him that Xander was successful at his job, several ‘employee of the month’ and Congratulations and Thanks for his project management role in various construction ventures. There was a single photograph of the Scoobies long left behind in his old life in Sunnydale. There was also one of Xander’s parents, which surprised Spike a little, but then most families had their problems and the child must eventually square with them, grow up and move on sometime.

He was interested to see a framed certificate from The Red Cross, thanking him for his efforts in the troubled provinces of Eritrea, then another referring to Ghana. Bloody Africa and literally bloody, if one rather tatty news clipping, next to a photo of Xander with three children sitting on his knee, was to be believed. According to the date the White Hat must have left the USA for Africa almost immediately after the Sunnydale disaster.

The cupboard in the room opened easily with a little pawing. Stationary supplies were on the shelf at his eye level and up further he could just see a number of work type folders and a digital camera bag. On the floor level, there was an open shoe box which, when tugged out, revealed a neat pile of cards and letters from post Sunnydale to now. Spike dared not disturb it – rather he would indicate to Xander at some later stage and have his human explain each one to him. That was until he noted that the first four cards stuck slightly out from the rest and were therefore easily captured by teeth and placed on the floor.

He licked the first card open and recognized Dawn’s rather girlie writing. She was still in Europe apparently, and most of the card was spent gushing to Xander about some new beau and the fact that she was going to England for the summer to study at Willow’s coven. The second card was a corporate Christmas card from someone called Steve Blass CEO who wished Xander ‘Happy Holidays’ with a personal note “Am hearing great things about your professional wins up north of the border – glad it all worked out for you. Merryn says Hi. S”

The next note was from Giles with a new address in England but little other news and the last was a simple postcard, all black with a tiny, red cracked heart in the top right corner. It had obviously either been hand delivered or in an envelope as there was no address or stamp. All it said on the back was, “I’m sorry I got a bit freaked after that third time. It’s me not you… You are sweet, luscious looking and a fab f@#$, but I really do love Aamon, and I don’t think any of us really wants to share. You have me as a friend always… Justin”

So Harris *was* a switch hitter. He knew there had to be an explanation for all those failed female relationships. Spike wished he’d known when he was still an unchipped – would have been a right lark to teach the boy a thing or two...No wonder Spike watching him jack off in the shower threw him for such a loop – probably thinkin’ of the latest captain of the boys’ swim team or some such. He also wondered if Xander was seeing anyone at the moment – or if he was even looking. Dammit if he changed back to vampire any time soon he would show Xander just how grateful he could really be and just how mind blowing being bitten when just at the cusp of climax assured the recipient an unforgettable, addictive, extended orgasm – whether filling the partner or being filled.

He carefully put each of the cards back in the box and eased it back to its place on the bottom shelf. He noted another box with lid on the left of the card box, but resisted the urge to look at it, since there was the sound of someone moving about the house. If Xander knew he had been messing with the human’s things then no doubt, this early in their renewed friendship, there might be problems. He reminded himself that it was really only his third day with Xander; that life wasn’t all that bad at the moment; and that he needed a plan to somehow let Xander know who he really was… or at least used to be.

As he wandered into the kitchen to wait for Xander to emerge, he began to wonder. How old was he? Dogs his size only lived to around sixteen. He would have to get the message across to Xander sooner rather than later if there was any chance of being restored to his former vampire form (and associated longevity).

The day progressed much as the previous one, though the shopping trips were replaced by some basic domestic duties, and a wash and grooming session for Spike. He was washed outside with a few buckets of warm water and Xander’s own shampoo, with the promise from Xander that he would go to the pet shop the following day for some other supplies. After a good hard shake he was toweled roughly, the sun would do the rest. On the last pass with the towel Spike grabbed the end with his teeth and began a tug of war that lasted twenty minutes, complete with growling and posturing on both sides.

The sides of the deck and two broad steps down to ground level were completed, Spike again enjoying a late afternoon beer. There wasn’t even a comment from Xander this time as the bowl was produced. The evening meal was a T-bone steak, rice and vegetables for Xander and dry dog food, raw mince and an egg for Spike. (Spike had been skeptical of the dog food scenario back in the shelter but quickly discovered his new form was quick partial to the odd meaty flavor and associated crunch).

There was no television that evening, rather Xander had some work catch up on for the following day, and spent time pouring over some plans before making notes on the computer then printing them out for convenience on site. Consequently Spike was bored. So much so he requested to be let out into the back yard on four different occasions just to get Xander’s attention. In the end a frustrated Xander left the door open – despite the chilled air entering the house – stating, “If you’ve got the runs, you might have to stay outside for the night.”

In the end, Spike satisfied himself by circling around and around on the ‘retro’ shag pile carpet in the middle of the room as if to try to decide which way to lie. It had the right effect, with Xander huffing in annoyance, “Will you just lie down and be done with it! S#$@ Spike! I have to finish this!” Satisfied, Spike lay down rather pleased with himself. He could still be the ‘Big Annoying’, which wasn’t as exciting as the ‘Big Bad’, but still… give a dog time!

As Xander packed up and swung his chair around, Spike put his head on his paws and once again used the “Please love me, I’m *very* remorseful” blinking, blue eyed look.

“Oh come on you big baby, I needed to get all that done that’s all. Next time maybe I’ll just leave the television on for you or something.” Spike sat up a little and wagged his tail. The TV idea appealed, but really he had been quite pleased with the events of the evening. Still, he guessed that a repeat performance might garner a more negative reaction and he really did not want to sleep outside.

The following morning they ran just on dawn. Xander had to be onsite by 7.30am and that meant out the door by seven at the latest. Breakfast was Wheetabix, milk and a banana – with coffee to go. Spike was given a handful of dry food, and the remains of the previous night’s rice with the few vegetables and a beef stock cube dissolved in a small amount of hot water mashed through. A bowl of water was placed on the floor before Xander grabbed his insulated mug of coffee and tube of plans; slung his soft briefcase come laptop carrier over his shoulder; put his keys in his mouth while he opened the backdoor awkwardly for Spike (the instructions were for Spike to guard the house and push the door closed when he was done outside); patted the dog briefly then made a sprint for his car with the words “I’ll be home in no time buddy – you have a good day…”

The silence that followed the car backing out and heading down the street was followed by Spike feeling rather like a fifteen year old human left alone in the house for the day - sort of relieved and excited, but also just a little nervous and not sure what to do next. It was ridiculous! He shook himself hard as though he had just been washed and decided that he had to come up with a plan. The trouble was his husky/shepherd instincts, his desire to have company seemed to short-circuit any sensible thought for the moment. He settled on going outside.

It was early morning still, and he could hear the sounds of the family next door eating breakfast. And around half an hour later being sternly instructed to clean teeth, collect their lunch, take the garbage out, then a final shriek from a female voice, “I don’t care if you haven’t found your iPod! Your sister has to get to band practice… Just get in the car!” Spike had long reversed his human self’s wish to have a wife and family – this just confirmed his thoughts – though as he mused on vampire ‘families’, he decided that they were just as stressed and dysfunctional, but at least had the excuse of soullessness.

Then all went quiet again. He dug a hole in the builders-sand pile desisting when a bunch of angry ants, that had apparently moved in to make their nest in the convenient material, defended their territory quite ferociously, biting him twice on his sensitive nose. He urinated on their nest then scratched the majority of the sand he had removed back over the evidence (and their now flooded hole). The thought did occur, as he did so, that he never wanted to come across a demon sized ant!

He lay for a time on a couple of old army rugs Xander had folded and placed on the deck in just the right spot to catch most of the sun during the morning, and snoozed for a time. Around midday he rose, relieved himself again, and wandered inside.

He padded downstairs and inspected the gym equipment, the fold out lounge/double bed and the pool table, sadly acknowledging that his hard earned skills at all things requiring an opposing thumb and human form were now near impossible to apply. Heading back up the stairs, Spike decided that if he was to survive like this he may as well pretend he was back in the crypt – or his apartment he had in LA… and watch daytime television… the question was, could he work the remote control.

The controls for the television, sound system and DVD/VCR were all neatly lined up on the low broad oak unit holding the huge plasma TV. Spike grabbed what he knew to be the television, mighty thankful to note it had been left on standby. He tried for almost twenty long minutes to maneuver the second toe’s claw on his right paw to the point where he could push it gently enough to turn on the equipment and not turn it off again. But once successful he was thrilled to find the channel changing was far easier. He still had to be gentle and ‘staccato’ in his push of the up-down button but managed to struggle through scrolling channels until there was something of interest.

He began watching a soap opera he did not recognize and stuck with it for a few minutes before persevering with channel surfing and finding one of the sport channels. Ice hockey was bearable, the footage from the European Athletics tolerable, but after an hour or so of reasonable entertainment, he drew the line at watching golf and switched through ARTV to TV5 – both were French language stations originating from Quebec.

Spike hadn’t spoken French for some years but was absolutely fluent in days past and after the news headlines and a short ‘local interest’ program, Spike delighted ‘brushing up’ his linguistic skills as he watched afternoon movie - the 1990s film version of “Cyrano De Bergerac”. Eventually however even the television bored him. So as not to arouse too much suspicion, Spike flicked the remote a few times more and left it on the Cartoon Channel, hoping that Xander might have forgotten what he had last been watching.

He checked the time – it was only 4.30pm. He had two plus hours to wait for Xander so decided that snooping was likely to be uninterrupted.


PART 8

Xander’s wardrobe was easy enough to access since it was not quite closed. Inside it was IKEA™ neat and not a sign of the garish clothes of a decade before. On one side was a large set of built in drawers and half hanging space, and the other was a full length space with suits and a couple of great coats, scarves etc with shoes placed in pairs underneath. Spike contemplated re-pairing them all then closing the door to let Xander worry, but decided to leave that for another day. It was then he spied a smallish chest – obviously Xander made – in the back right hand corner. Spike tugged it by the brass handle and was very pleased when it came easily, though knocked two pairs of shoes aside as he tugged it out into the room.

The latch was up, so he pushed hard at the lid with his nose and managed to flip it open. And now wasn’t this a surprise. Harris either had a serious kink, or was simply adventurous. Various lovely toys for boys plus lube, chocolate paint (already open) and a few ‘accessories’ were inside, nothing too extreme – just interesting. Lined cuffs, silk rope, one glass and one latex dildo, vibrator or two, very simple gag and a set of anal beads (in an unopened packet) were all in there. Spike was tempted to leave the items strewn on the floor but in the end packed them away and decided to look through Harris’s CD collection in the lounge room.

He found four albums of dismally soppy love songs, a number of dance music (rave variety) CDs, some classic rock albums, a few musicals and ‘French Conversation’ I, II and III. Spike decided then and there that if he *ever* got back to human form it would be his mission to instruct the whelp in *real* French language – of the Parisian variety along with a good smattering of culture and some decent French porn just to round out his education. In the end he left the tall stack alone and went to lie on the old couch. It was silent in the house but for the aerator in the large fish tank built into the wall between the hallway and the lounge.

With all quiet inside the house now, he pricked his ears as he heard a motor bike rev and turn the corner nearest their home, and registered at least three cars drive past around five thirty. Small children next door could be heard playing in their yard (neighbors on the right) and the sound of a radio and whistling from the neighbors on the left.

Half snoozing, Spike finally heard a car pull into the driveway around 6.45pm and literally bounded off the settee and sat by the front door, letting go his ‘human/vampire’ thoughts for a moment and switching to excited canine companion. He stood and sat, and stood and sat, and just could not seem to control his tail which alternately almost knocked over the occasional table in the hall or hit then thumped the floor with vigor, depending on his position.

Finally the key was in the door and Xander, carrying all that he had taken with him that morning and more pushed his way into the house, almost tripping over his excited new pet. “Hey! Steady on!! Give us a chance to put this lot down would you! Geez!!!!”

Spike backed off and lay down in supplication… but he *had* waited *all* day! He whined a very high pitched begging noise and blinked as though almost in tears. Xander threw his work things in the study then came back to his now rather upset looking welcoming party and squatted down in front of the dog.

“Geez Spike… Look… I missed you too, but I needed to put things down so we could have a proper welcome, OK? So come on buddy, come here and let me give you a good ruffling of the fur.” And with that Xander tipped to a kneel and began scratching and petting and definitely ruffling… Spike gave up all pretext of big bad vampire and ended up a panting excited mess of a dog.

Eventually Xander’s knees were becoming tender so he stood up and wandered to the back door, opening it again for his furred friend with a “Figure you might need it”, then retreated to the study to sort out a few things. Spike did need ‘the facilities’ and relieved himself then sniffed about a bit in the late dusk of the evening.

Upon going inside he spotted Xander sitting in the lounge, jacket off and a folder of papers open on the coffee table in front of him He had his head in his hands just looking tired. Spike didn’t bother entering the room – simply went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, taking it to his… Xander, and placing it carefully on the table. He sat quietly for a while then shuffled closer and pushed his head between the arms and the strong thigh, eventually resting a furry chin on the suited leg.

Xander stayed in the same position for a while, but gradually sat up and took the beer, stroking his fast becoming treasured companion between the ears, tugging on the one closest gently, and whispered “Thanks buddy… Not gonna share today?” And strangely Spike, who had not really even thought about himself with the move for the bottle, felt quite moved. He lifted up a little and put his paw on Xander’s thigh for a moment and looked into the chocolate brown eye with his azure blue pair, willing Xander to see his gratitude. He then turned and fetched another beer then his bowl.

Xander poured a half into Spike’s bowl and watched quietly as the dog lapped with relish for a few moments but stopped – just like a friend at a pub might when preparing for a relax and a talk. Xander flicked on the sound system, quietly playing rather unusual music by ‘VAST’ and began by also taking a swig of his beer and sighing heavily, then addressed the dog.
`
“Sorry buddy, just had a hard day… You wouldn’t understand… Couple of things went wrong on site… I mean it wasn’t that bad, just a delivery didn’t come and the guys were a bit antsy ‘cause I asked them to change tasks at the last minute. Then we had a thing with the new apprentice Chris. The guys have decided he’s gay and… Ahhh geez Spike, don’t know why I’m telling you this.” Spike simply blinked and waited, accepting the stroking over his ears for what it was, a comfort for Xander rather than an attempt to pleasure his dog.

“Chris probably is gay… but how that could possibly be anyone else’s business, I’ll never know… besides he’s just a baby when it comes to any matters of the heart – he’s only nineteen! I had to say something to Jerry, but if we move him out of the general crew, he’ll be compromised on his work placement and experience. Jerry advised talking to Chris and encourage him endure until the week after next, but also have him document the incidents as they happen – to get a feel for the severity and how to deal with the taunting…” Spike rubbed his downy soft cheek against Xander’s leg then jumped up onto the couch and placed his head in Xander’s lap as his owner took the last swig of his beer in hand then reached for the second and held it without twisting off the lid.

“Could have been me though Spike… don’t you see… I am the one who should have been getting all the taunts. Demon magnet, charity case, ex-vengeance demon’s whipped boy, closet gay hankering after some blonde menace tied up in my basement (and doesn’t that sound wrong now on so many levels). Ghod Spike I remember the first time, I was just back from Africa and kind of getting back on my feet with a construction company in Portland… It was with an older guy, Mark, and I was so scared and he was… just so wonderful… and it felt like I had found myself in that moment, but then reality hit. I could never really tell anyone except for a few of my most trusted friends, and even then would have to choose carefully.

“Two weeks later, Mark announced he had a ‘regular friend’ and had really just wanted to open my eyes to who I really was. I mean, he was nice about it and even introduced me to a bunch of his friends, but I still felt… you know, like Zeppo Xander again, with a bit more dress sense and a hankering for the male form to partner with… Ahhh Spike… what I’ve found out since then… I really don’t want sex without love… I want companionship, friendship and… You know I wish you were human, or at least the blonde menace of a vampire… I *really* do. I think we’d make a fine pair.”

He continued to stroke Spike gently and lay his head back, sinking into the couch and closing his good eye. Consequently he missed the slight shift in the magical signature of Spike and associated momentary flash of light over his ex-vampire, dog shaped friend. But… Spike felt it and wondered at the reason for the jolt through the fabric of the magical world.

Shortly after, Xander groaned and pushed himself up, “C’mon buddy – Salmon steaks and pasta for tonight… Figure you would like a bit of fish for a change… Stella at work even brought in some fresh lemons for everyone to take if they wanted them… So…”

Xander made his way to the kitchen with Spike close at heel. The dinner was prepared quickly. Water was boiled, Italian tomato sauce (basil, oregano, garlic and tomatoes) ‘nuked’, and pasta cooked, as both sides of the thick salmon pieces were seared and lightly cooked in butter with a hint of dill and pepper. Spike looked on with more than a little curiosity. He had not eaten fish since he was human and honestly could not really remember the flavor.

Xander served up and this time put Spike’s bowl right beside his own chair, Spike somewhat relieved that the human had thought better of leaving it on the table. Much as sitting there would have been nice, balancing on a normal kitchen chair and eating in that position would have been, sadly, very awkward at best in his current state. Instead he finished his meal quickly and sat patiently while Xander finished his, offering Spike the very last piece of salmon from the human’s plate. He ate it with relish – fish or at least salmon – was quite delicious.

Dinner over and kitchen tidied, Xander did a little more work then sat watching television for a time, Spike invited to lie on a rug on the couch beside him. There was certainly a thrill in that. Bedtime was earlier than the previous night, and the daily pattern was repeated with the exception of Thursday when the run was replaced by a workout in the gym due to early morning rain (and later that day Spike had taken advantage of his ability to leap side fences in a single bound, availing himself of a walk in the park).

By Saturday morning Spike was itching for a whole day of company. Sure it had been fun flying solo during the week, snooping, reading, television, lazing in the backyard… but the activities were really only a fill in until Xander came home. He had read through most of Dawn, Willow and Giles’ letters Xander had kept in the box – abandoning the idea of trying to get the rubber bands back around the cards and letters and satisfying himself with simply placing them all back in the box.

He learned that Buffy was still in Italy and still with the Immortal as she had been when he and Angel… despite it seeming a lifetime ago he still growled regards the Immortal then grieved for his Sire and all that had happened. He knew Dawn was in England at Willow’s coven and that Giles was a regular visitor. He also knew now that Willow had returned from South America recently having had an amicable spilt with Kennedy who had apparently ‘moved on’ to a fellow slayer less than a month after Willow’s leaving the country. He also learned from Willow’s letter that she had every intention of visiting Xander over the coming Christmas.

Spike had pondered that information all week. He had to have Xander realize his predicament before the witch arrived. She was the strongest witch on the planet – with all the ‘right’ connections (and the wrong ones if she went off the rails again) and perhaps his only hope of changing back. There was time… And he had to question his own thinking… Spending June to December in dog form was a long time – but it had already been two months or so. His worry was how easily his canine instincts seemed to kick in lately… He resolved to increase his reading and try to stay on top of the ‘human world’ intellectually.

Despite his contemplations and after all the private worry, Saturday was a joy! He literally bounced along as they went for the later morning run in bright morning sunlight – the smells of summer filling the air and the babble of the clear water coursing beside the running track making the whole experience just right.

Once again Spike was let loose from his lead and knew to stay close to his master’s side when other humans were around – particularly children. He also knew to slow his easy trot as his Xander slowed on the way back and they climbed the rise to the main road again.

Xander’s day was lazy - washing, cleaning and shopping all done in the company of his rather extraordinary new dog. He forewent going to the supermarket in preference to visiting the Farmer’s market further out of town. Spike walked at heel and even carried one of the Hessian shopping bags for Xander as the human collected fresh produce then filled Spike’s bag with a chicken, a bag of brown rice and lentils, and finally meat and home dried beef jerky. Xander carried the box of fruit and vegetables.

Xander stopped to chat to the butcher, Mike - one of Jerry’s friends from school days apparently. Spike put his bag down and sat patiently at Xander’s feet as the two chatted, and when the crowd of shoppers eased a bit, was rewarded by the Mike’s daughter with a lovely handful of diced beef on a Styrofoam tray. Spike ate carefully, licked the tray, then lifted it toward the girl as she finished serving yet another customer. She took it graciously, smiled then accepted the paw offered in thanks and grinned, exclaiming “Hey Dad! Check this out… How about this for manners?!”

Mike snorted and looked back at Xander, “Well blow me down with a feather! Haven’t seen that sorta thing since Lassie or Balto were on the TV… Where’d you say you get him?”

“Month ago, Jerry found him in a Kamloops pet rescue place… apparently he was found in the baggage compartment of one of those cross Canada tour buses. He’s certainly quite an intelligent dog – and well trained. Can’t imagine anyone getting rid of him! But he had no collar when he came to them.”

Mike grunted, “F#$%ing city bastards… looks like a Malamute – but could be a husky cross… have the same sort of taller stature and good nature. Looks like he’s got all the energy in the world – not to mention devotion to the ‘pack’ ie you!”

“No arguing here… Just worried he can get enough exercise. I’m away all day – trying to take him for a run every morning – but … anyway you don’t need to hear all this – thanks for the meat… Oh and Jerry said to tell you the Independence weekend for fishing – all welcome – we’ve got a few of the work guys and families and are just going to camp on Larry’s father’s property for a couple of nights. We figured everyone has a bit of camping gear and we can make a real weekend of it.”

“Market is on that week so we’ll have to come up late… but yeah… I’ll ring Jerry meself… Tell ya what, just a thought, we’ve got a couple of bitch Malamutes (mother and daughter) and have been doing some amateur sled running with them (summer stuff – wheels etc) Get Katie to take him out of a day when you’re at work. She usually runs them around eleven before going to college or helping me with deliveries. Get a bit more condition on him and you’ll be surprised just how strong the breed can be.”

And so, after a weekend of compacting crushed rock, spreading and evening sand (with Rob the neighbor and Jerry’s kind assistance), then laying pavers, the back was all but done – next weekend and many to follow would be taken up by more visits to the hardware store and the plant nursery, and gradually transforming the backyard into something beautiful for Spike and Xander to enjoy.

Spike had a wonderful day in charge of keeping Jerry’s twin boys occupied and out of mischief. Xander permitted them play in the front yard – with strict instructions to Spike to keep them safe. Spike would have rolled his eyes if he could. They developed their own game of tag, the boys tucking a tea towel into their pants and the aim was to try to grab each other’s tail. The boys had the advantage as far as having two arms and tails that didn’t hurt if tugged – but Spike was so much quicker.

They were joined by Rob’s three children not long after and were all eventually invited to the park by the mother of the three, Pippa, who smiled as she leaned on a tree in their yard and observed the innocent game and the actions of their neighbour Xander’s dog. He was magnificent – and though in her opinion a little too thin – was gentle and patient – even allowing himself to get ‘caught’ once or twice, but fast redeeming himself by stealing three tea towels in a quick succession and handing them to her youngest (the 6 yo), as though it had been Jess’s win before the others even realized.

Game over, cool drinks were delivered to the workers and the ‘players’ then the children were escorted to the park, Spike putting up with the lead but making sure Pippa could see he was so well behaved it was unnecessary. Pippa also had their own little Tilley – a very young rather excitable West Highland terrier, on a lead. Spike made a point of growling low when they first met. She immediately rolled onto her back in submission and he licked her acknowledging his role in the pecking order. She was sweet and irrepressibly happy about going for a walk on the sunny spring afternoon.

A suitable supervision bench was found for Pippa and the dogs sat patiently for a time until finally, when most of the other children in the park had departed, they were let off their leads and allowed to participate. Tilley ran around enthusiastically but really didn’t understand the game of modified T-ball at all. Spike smiled internally as he tagged yet another of the twins before they made it to the only base.

Tristan complained bitterly as he joined the field again, “Oh hey! I say we ban Spike from tagging – he’s too quick!” Carl the second of the pigeon pair rolled his eyes.

“Hey *whiney boy*! He caught me out… You’re just a bad sport now get on the field and shut it!”

It was getting late, Tilley had long since ‘retired’ to a place at Pippa’s feet so the game was called. The children all ran on ahead a little way but were trained to stop at intersections so there was little worry. Pippa patted Spike’s side as he waited patiently for the lead to be reattached to his slip-chain collar and said in a soothing singsong voice, “Good boy… Good boy Spike… You did *so* well with the children… Good boy!” Then switched her attention to Tilley, this time it was baby talk and if Spike could have been ill he would have – no wonder the mutt was slightly daft!

“That’s it my baby… you just sit in mummy’s arms and I’ll carry you, poor little love… Dinner’s waiting when we get back… You’ll like that won’t you… Yes you will…”

Spike was relieved to greet Xander again. He had exercised enough to feel calm but really was over the ‘child’ factor – of any species! The evening was a barbeque using the newly purchased gas ‘Super-Grill’, swiftly created salads by Jerry’s wife Carrie and a blushing Pippa - the latter courtesy of the announced ‘another one due’ by proud dad Rob, and toasted by beer and a hastily purchased bottle of champagne some hour later.

Children were fed first – sausages and bread with a few ‘compulsory’ greens - then the five were set up (with the dogs) in front of the DVD – Madagasgar the choice. Spike absented himself as soon as all were settled, preferring adult company.

By the time he pushed through the open back door, the adults had all but finished their meal. The odd variety of chairs were now circled around a ‘brasserie’ of sorts – really an old washing machine inner – perfect for the purpose once on a home soldered stand. The fire was warm, the conversation likewise. Spike initially lay at his Xander’s feet but eventually sat up and placed his chin on Xander’s right thigh, resting for the rest of the evening and accepting the gentle petting. The company didn’t miss the affection or the calm of their usually ‘driven’ host in the presence of his new pet.

The following four weeks all passed easily. Weekends were spent fixing the garden, and weeks were very similar, though Spike was now walked by Pippa whenever she ventured to the shop on foot – his presence apparently calming the skittish Tilley.

His experience as ‘summer sled dog’ was reportedly delayed due to an ankle spraining at basketball by the ‘driver’, but it mattered little. Spike felt settled – well as settled as one could be as a vampire changed to dog. Xander seemed to forget he wasn’t human when they were alone of an evening, and if he were honest, it felt very like the few times pre Hellmouth closure when they were… if either of them had been honest… friends.

The following weekend was the fishing trip.



Title: The Stray
Pairing: S/X
Rating: NC/17
Warnings: Will appear on chapters if needed – some M/M relations
Summary: Spike survived the Black Thorn but only because one of the Senior Partners had heard Illyria refer to him as suitable for her pet and decided to amuse themselves with devastating results

PART 9

The fishing adventure was wonderful – but for the silly Tilley and her crying of a night, until the children ‘snuck’ her into their tent and Spike had *not* felt sorry for growling a little at her when she was making all they fuss, almost relieved when the whining fell quiet. There really was no accounting for parentage. She was genuinely a product of genetics, and somewhere in producing a pretty laptop some of the breed of the intelligence had simply been lost. Still she was a rather sweet pooch, if a little over indulged, just not terribly cut out for the rough of the camping.

Spike followed Xander carefully then sat at his feet while the rest of the group spread out along the river to cast. Night time was filled with relaxed tall tales around an open fire, Spike fetched beers (much to the amusement of the others), fine freshly grilled fish and condiments, port and good coffee. It was an early retirement due to lack of light but nobody minded.

Spike was allowed into Xander’s tent after everyone else was settled and snuggled against the sleeping bag containing his friend. Xander had packed an old crochet rug that was a little ugly on the colorful side but was just the cover a well furred husky needed to be pampered and toasty in slumber. Waking on the second night with Xander hugging him and mumbling in his sleep had Spike momentarily confused – especially when a still fully asleep Xander begged the Powers that Be to “C‘on give h’m back *pleee* didn’ deserve-die… save… me n’ eye – too stupid too mmrrrfffgrrr how I felt… *wish* he was still here… jus’ once t’ say… hrrmphh”

The jolt through the magical fabric was real but the interpretation was tricky. Spike unwilling to hope but each time it occurred there was certainly a slightly different accent to the sensation, perhaps it was one of those three wishes things, or perhaps it was nothing.

He was lying in the arms of a man he was fast coming to love, to think of as Master, a man who mumbled sweet nothings about Spike in his sleep and hugged him. Spike gave himself a mental kick. Life wasn’t that bad really… after all he had the sun, good food and relative freedom, and a friend who loved him (if the arm around his furry torso was any indication).

By their third day of fishing, the ex-vampire had resolved simply to live with his altered state and did what Spike always had done – make the best of it… And the best meant pouncing on a stray salmon that had ventured into the tributary rather early in the season. The best of it meant capturing the trout on his ‘master’s’ hook without making a puncture. And the best of it was lying with Xander on their third night and the human in question doing the usual in his sleep – and Spike being pulled into a close hug and sharing the warmth of spirit and body heat.

The sled races were again discussed as they drove for home – Xander jovial and with seven fine salmon on ice in the rear of the truck, satisfied the weekend had been a success.

A day post fishing trip, Spike was on a lead and heading for Gracie’s place. The girl was tall, a little lanky, but incredibly fit! As were her canine charges. Spike wished for his vampire abilities but sadly they were denied. However, over the ensuing three weeks, he was pleasantly surprised to find his new form was quite well adapted to running at pace.

There was a slight altercation on the third morning following their run– but thankfully Gracie was none the wiser. Deefer (yes… d for dog) was a handsome black and white Malamute who was the lead dog just a little too full of himself for Spike’s liking… particularly after he ‘subdued’ a younger female husky Chloe, urinating on her when she had already acknowledged his supremacy. Spike pushed her to the drinking bowl and gently tipped the water over the offended fur. She licked his face in gratitude, and it was all Deefer needed to pick a fight.

What the dog did not expect however, was an ex-vampire now canine with over a hundred years of fighting the good (and bad) fight. By the end of the very swift altercation there was a new pecking order with Deefer acknowledging Spike as alpha, as did all other six dogs (and a very pretty young female husky was instantly devoted to Spike). Gracie noted the shift the following day and tied Chloe opposite Spike – Deefer was still at the head of the pack, but the group knew who was really in charge.

Over the following weeks the joy of being collected from Xander’s back yard and led to Gracie’s truck and joined the other seven dogs. Bigger teams would have up to eleven but Gracie was a relative beginner and starting out small, learning training techniques and developing relationships with her dogs.

Spike gradually got the hang of pulling just far enough away from the central tether, and also respond to Deefer’s lead. With the encouragement and instructions of Gracie’s shrill voice, he began to pull harder and faster, eventually seeing Chloe relegated to the next row down, and a stronger very black husky Mac replacing her opposite, (though she was now directly behind him and could touch when they were resting). It was only four weeks until their first race and Spike was genuinely excited.

Spike knew he was regaining form (albeit a dog one!), muscles were filling out and his coat was thicker. Xander rejoiced in his dear canine friend’s improved condition, and had taken to grooming him of an evening – something they both enjoyed… but for that one time… the collar…

He’d been wearing it since Kamloops. The loose chain collar, he hardly even noticed it any more. But then Xander had come home somewhat excited and took it off(!) and Spike… panicked. There was no logic to the feeling, he simply began to whimper and could not help but shiver even though they were inside

He remembered no collar. No collar meant hunger and beatings and trying to get… somewhere safe! Had he jumped the fence once too often? Had he forgotten to put the DVDs back or the television on the correct channel? Or perhaps Gracie was disappointed with him…? Had Xander decided to sell him for some reason – he had read that Xander had been a promotion – did that mean moving and no place for him?

And then Xander… his Master, for now Spike really had accepted the former Scoobie as ‘Master’… pulled out a beautiful silver chain and fixed it around the furry neck. It was thick enough to be a collar, but more than pretty enough to be the finest jewelry chain designed for a human. And Spike didn’t miss that his dear friend had placed a similar adornment around his own neck.

The words “See Spike, now we match” drew a sigh of devotion from the dog and saw the ex-vampire again lick his friend’s hand. If Spike had words they would have been pointless. He realized, in that moment he *truly* loved Xander in his current state, was devoted even… and if that meant another ten years before his canine body gave out then so be it. Spike felt a measure of contentment in that thought – something he had *never* experienced as a vampire, and only fleetingly as human. His place was by his master’s side, and beside the bed on the plushy mat with the rug covered him. He was clean, fed and watered, there were activities and a measure of freedom. And he knew Xander loved him. What vampire human or dog could fail but be content.

It was his sixth month as a dog and Spike’s natural penchant for protection and loyalty was only enhanced by his canine instincts. And there was more, Xander loved him, held him, pampered him, fed him from his own plate… shared life with him. But now the problem was that Xander had started to go ‘out’ to find human company.

The first night was easy enough, Spike greeted the taxi as Xander arrived home very much later than usual, and put up with the ‘stayout’ being apparently distracted when he came in smelling of alcohol, smoke and other men. Then he went out again Friday and the following Saturday *and* Monday nights and it was more of a worry as the smell became of a single man. On the fifth night *the he* arrived at their door, with Xander, to stay! And Spike was relegated to the kitchen to sleep.

He made a point of lying over the central heating duct (hoping to overheat the element and cause the alarm to go off) while the two ‘snuggled’ in the lounge, and he then tried to ignore the enthusiastic groans and expressions of lust and lovemaking as Xander ‘topped’ his new friend.

Spike checked in the morning after Xander went to work, relieved that it had been safe sex – that was something at least. But Spike was suspicious of this ‘Dillan’. The young man was just a little too enthusiastic and attentive, his hackles went up when the young man entered. He was almost sure that the ‘Powers that Screw You’ were playing on the fact that Xander needed a good f#$% occasionally just like any other bloke… but this man… it was too easy somehow. Spike made a point of growling as his taxi left, getting the response, “Oh Spike – you have nothing to be jealous about… and I’m sure you’ll come to like him.”

Spike turned heel abruptly left his master’s side and went outside to sit on the deck in the morning sunshine and sulk. He just knew there was something up – his vampire experience could pick a crooked character a mile off – hell he had deliberately hunted them for years. Xander was an easy target for a pretty boy and when they turned up together after dinner and an evening of dance for following Friday, Spike was almost ill to note that this Dillan had put white blonde tips all through his hair, had it swept into a mini Mohawk and had eyeliner on. With his ‘groovy’ casual clothes it looked far too try hard. The ‘do’ made the face look fat and round, and the clothing likewise with the body. What was Xander thinking!?

So the following morning, instead of their usual run and quiet time together, it was the Dillan and Xander show – and apparently Dillan was staying another night! Spike’s toileting and feeding was relegated to more of a tedious routine, and the usual quiet two days of company he spent with his old friend, now Master, gone. But being ignored had its uses, something he had learned as both human and vampire.

His plushy sleeping mat was in the kitchen, comfortably by one of the central heating ducts, and doggy ears and nose were still as sharp as his vampire days.

He stilled and observed from his sleeping place as the ‘friend’ entered the lounge room. The devious Dillan was on his mobile. It was four am on a Monday. If Spike hadn’t been able to read the time he just… knew. Not the time a chap would normally wander the house unless to attend the bathroom or sneak a snack– and certainly not the time that one would deliberately search for then sequester the spare keys, or for that matter, take digital images on one’s phone of potentially saleable items.

Monday was the usual – but that the young ‘innocent’ Dillan was on the block. Spike knew the look - Xander was still in the mood for romance and lusting after the younger man after two weeks or more of seeing each other. Kisses were had over coffee and Dillan left first to Spike’s relief. Xander fare welled his pet sans morning run but with a healthy dose of petting.

The pattern of inattention was not deliberate on Xander’s part, but Spike was a dab hand at spotting a manipulative bastard… He had, after all, spent twenty or so years as his Grandsire Angelus’ main project. So instead of anger or malice he chose observation. Something that in the end may have saved his life… well that and he was not ready to die… at least *not* at the hand of this little human upstart.

It was that Monday that changed everything. Spike had been drugged too many times to believe that two strangers who let themselves in with Xander’s spare key around midday, were up to anything but no good. They were pleasant enough…for a couple of thieves, and invited him to come out into the yard. They ruffled his fur and played for a bit then filled his outdoor drinking bowl with a rather large serve of premium diced mince.

Spike not only smelt a rat, but rat poison and swiftly took the bowl to the rear of the garden, as though to protect his prize. He buried the contents swiftly and effectively, hoping that the local wildlife did not fall for the tasty morsels and partake of a deadly repast. But his own deception was incomplete, though fortunately his acting skills of fifteen decades plus were still in tact.

His assailants were observing at the kitchen window so the dog did as expected, and staggered toward the back door, dramatically fell up the two steps and made it into the laundry where he collapsed (with appropriate tongue out panting of course). And the ruse was complete, but for one addition Spike knew he could pull off.

He was perfectly still as the two thieves came to inspect – even hanging out his long tongue for effect, and allowing a measure of doggy drool and urine to spoil the surroundings – consistent with a ‘death’ (but not quite consistent with the description on the packet had they been careful enough to read them), but it had the desired effect.

Despite Spike’s ‘tender’ age of one and a half plus centuries, computers and new technologies seemed to come relatively easily when it came to turning the bloody thing on and off – but once again the challenge of no longer having human hands… well… he had always been a one digit typist (stupid ‘qwerty’!)

The computer was on in the back room and Spike estimated he had thirty or so seconds to try plan a before the series to g would be needed.

He restored the computer screen which luckily had some personal mail on it one from Xander’s work to his Hotmail address at home. Spike managed to hit reply, then simply put “Xan hous bieg robbd now! Home n polic plee. S” and sent it with great effort as the mouse kept slipping. But it was done and he had the sense to turn the screen off before using the open back door for an escape leaping the neighbor’s side fence bolted to the neighbor’s backdoor. He began excitedly pawing at the rear door and barking for Tilley. Eventually Pippa came out to see what all the ruckus was about and Spike simply took her wrist and gently pulled her to the side fence. She had a clear view of what was going on and ran inside to get the police.

Spike hurdled the fence again then over the fence that let him out into their own yard but stayed slightly behind a large camellia bush and waited for his chance. The two thieves thought Spike was dead and he needed a distraction to give the police time to arrive so staggered around the corner and flopped dramatically in halfway down the front steps tail to them, as though he had staggered up the hall when they weren’t looking.

“F%^&ing hell Nev! Frikken dog wasn’t dead.”

“Well he’s practically dead in’ e! S#$t, I’m startin’ to loose the TV – just let’s backup and see if we can angle round it.” And as they did so Spike moved ever so slightly more to the right.

“Hang on, *Hang on*!! He’s gone the other way now.”

“Who’s gone the uver way? Geez make up yer mind!” Spike could hear the faint sirens in distance but definitely heading their way, and since they had the plasma television in arms, Spike needed them to put it down before all hell broke loose so he slid until completely covering one of the steps.

“Look, put this down in there, you check through the china – anything looks like we could hock it, bring it, meanwhile I’’ll deal with the mutt, can’t be that hard to push one groggy mutt downstairs!

With the plasma TV on the ground. The other thief began searching for everything else saleable and Nev moved to try to move Xander – more easily said that done! Both so determined in their task that first one then two cars arrived.

‘Mr. I-am-pushing-the-dog’ Nev was immediately apprehended in no small part to Spike who immediately latched on to the man’s leg and stilled him.

A yell from the second in command, “We’ve lost the other guy – he’s going over fences.”

Spike knew the fences and the smell of ‘the robber’ as he ran and tried to hide. Spike was on him in seconds with minimum of effort – another policeman followed fast behind.

In the ensuing weeks a full investigation found Dillan and his group of ‘assistants’, had virtually the same modus operandi. Seduce, gain trust (and the key), establish the family routine, and eliminate any security system.

Xander returned home as fast as he could only to be faced with a scene of triumph and confusion, police, and a crowd around the *wonderful* husky… The resulting week would be the most definitely a celebration for Spike. There would eventually be a certificate awarded. But that night was most definitely for the two of them… and something else.

Xander indicated the bed and Spike willingly joined him. They hugged and Xander caressed the pretty fur then kissed the end of his nose. “I could not believe the Email came from you?! It did come from you didn’t it??”

Spike licked Xander’s nose and all but grinned.

Xander flicked off the lamp kissed one of Spike’s ears in the dark and mumbled, “Then we have some serious typing to do in the morning!”

……………………………………………………..
Not sure how long it will take to update as typist is ill and will be doing hospital time for 2 – 3 weeks, depending on progress. Apologies J