Slip Slide Melting

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Part 3

He’d known Andrew was bringing Spike to him. Hell, he would have known even if he hadn’t been the one to order it. He could… feel the vampire in the building, after all, and feel him getting closer.

“Crap… crap, crap, crap,” he’d muttered as he’d stood and moved around his office, trying desperately to decide where to greet the blond.

He’d thought he was prepared for this. He really had.

He’d known Spike was back for a good four hours, after all, and he was the Magus Prime! He should have been able to… deal, right?

Unfortunately, being in charge of close to half of the ‘civilized’ world didn’t mean he was fully in control of his own emotions. Or at least not where this particular vampire was concerned.

The worst part, though, was that he didn’t know why he was so… jittery. He didn’t do jittery, and certainly not because the bleached menace was suddenly back in the world, and…

He’d found himself taking the old eye-patch from the bust of Shakespeare where it had lived ever since he’d taken over the Hyperion and sliding it over his left eye, and before he’d even had the chance to ask himself what he was doing, the knock came, and… there was Spike, and…

Gods, he couldn’t breathe.

Fins?

And just like that, he was laughing and saying… something, he wasn’t sure what.

“Xander… bloody… Harris,” Spike breathed, somehow looking just as shaky as he felt, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well, I…”

“Work for the Great Poof, do you?” the vampire said, chuckling quietly. “Sent you to deal with me, yeah?”

And Xander found himself blinking, though only the one eye was visible, so he figured he probably looked kind of brain damaged. “Angel? Why would I be working for him? I don’t even like him.”

And oh… that wasn’t a good look on Spike’s face.

It was even worse when Xander suddenly found himself dragged from his seat and slammed against the wall, Spike’s demon-face only two inches from his own face.

“Okay… and I’m guessing no one told you about Angel,” he managed to say, even while hiding the fact that the hand on his throat wasn’t disturbing him at all.

* * * * *

“He’s alive,” Spike said again, frowning at the boy who looked exactly the same as the last time he’d seen him, twenty-three years gone since Sunnyhell or not. “Sodding Angel’s alive. Like in human alive…”

Xander sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, cursing silently as they caught on the patch’s strap. He hadn’t worn the thing since he’d come out of that crater with two intact eyes, after all.

“He says he woke up in that alley a week after the fight. I guess that prophecy wasn’t as much bullshit as he thought, huh? So yeah. Angel’s alive. He’s kind of… a hero, actually.”

Spike snorted. “Of course he is, the great wanker. Wouldn’t be able to stand it if he came back human and was somehow unremarkable, would he? Not bloody Broody, right? So what is he, if not this bleeding Magus Prime of yours? High poobah of the sodding dance? Because I can tell you, mate. Seen the Wonder Ponce dance, and Lord of it he’s not.”

How had he forgotten how much the vampire’s snarky attitude and truly inspired choice of words had always amused him? Hell, even when he’d actively hated Spike, he’d had to admit—silently—that he’d had a certain insight.

“Gods no,” Xander said with a chuckle. “Um… actually, he’s the Captain of the Citadel Guards. I…” He cleared his throat, catching himself. “I guess the… Magus Prime thought he owed him. You know, considering the way he took over Angel’s hotel when he got here…”

Another snort. “Yeah. Like the great prancing prat could Captain a bloody rowboat. Remember how he tried to run Wolfram and Hart, don’t I?” Spike rolled his eyes. “And then in that bloody alley. Just had to be all ‘I want to slay the dragon’.” He snorted yet again. “Bloody poof. Died in the doing of it, he did.”

Xander sighed, doing his best not to rake his visible eye up and down the vampire’s long form. He’d only just noticed it, but Spike reminded him of… “Fuck!” he groaned.

“And what’s your problem now, mate?” the vampire demanded.

“N-nothing, Spike. Sorry. Just… work stuff.” ‘Liar,’ his inner voice said, ‘he reminds you of Thomas. Because aside from the cheekbones and Thomas’s hair being a little darker, they could be twins. Same with Joseph and Mike and Jamie. And that means…’

‘Shut up,’ he answered viciously, ‘I do not want Spike!’

“Sorry,” he said again, looking everywhere but at the blond, “Did you say Angel killed the dragon? Or just that he wanted to?”

The scarred brow arched, even as Spike wondered about the scent of arousal that suddenly surrounded the boy. “Oh, Peaches did it, alright. Burned to ash in the fire, even. But he must have told you that more than once, yeah? Know how he likes to hear himself speak.” He frowned, then shook his head. “Wait. Let me guess. Told your bleeding Magus Prime but couldn’t be bothered to tell you, hey Xander? Always was a huge prat, my Sire… soul or not.”

A part of him felt badly for letting Spike believe there was a Magus Prime who wasn’t him, but the rest of him was… happy. It had been twenty-three years since he’d seen the vampire and while he’d have to tell him eventually, he was kind of looking forward to getting to know the blond again… as a friend, this time, he hoped.

Hell, they’d almost been friends before the amulet back in Sunnydale. Xander figured it was time they let the past go and just… lived. With that in mind, he pushed aside the fact that Angel had lied to him and said it was Spike who’d slain the dragon. After all, that was hardly the only thing Angel had lied about and he’d managed to overlook it, hadn’t he?

Instead he smiled. “Yeah… and trust me, Spike. Being human hasn’t changed him much. Not even marrying Faith, Giles and Robin has made him loosen up any.”

Spike blinked and then laughed. “So… I was right all these years, calling him a poof! Bloody marvelous! And… know Thomas said something about his wedding to Andrew, so… you lot have gay marriage now? That’s… different.”

Xander shrugged then shook his head. “Not ‘gay’ marriage, Spike. Just marriage. The magic came back and all of a sudden sexuality didn’t matter so much, y’know? Same-sex, different-sex… hell, there are more sexes now than anyone would have believed thirty years ago. Some species of demon have five sexes and nobody cares.” He smiled. “What matters now, buddy, is… which side you’re on. The Senior Partners are still out there. Most of us choose to oppose them. We don’t have the time or energy to waste on homophobia, especially since most of the species around now don’t much care who or what someone…”

“Shags?” Spike offered, for some reason feeling warm inside that Xander Harris had called him ‘buddy’.

The brunette grinned. “Yeah. Shags. We’re too busy trying to rebuild the world with the new laws. The laws of magic. Unfortunately, we’re still figuring out what those laws are; even after twenty-some years we’re not entirely sure. Things… change. Almost daily.” His brow furrowed. “Or we’re just not understanding things properly, which is always possible, right?”

Interesting. Not the constant discoveries, Spike admitted, but the fact that blokes-and-blokes and chits-and-chits and any combinations thereof weren’t likely to create drama. Then again, he hadn’t seen the world outside the wards. He could only go by what Xander said and what he’d seen inside the Hyperion, but for whatever reason, he was inclined to trust the one-eyed former Scooby, and… maybe he wouldn’t have to worry the next time he found himself attracted to a male.

Not that he’d worried much before, but when he’d been chipped and had considered the same bloke who was before him now, he’d balked, knowing how many humans were bloody well homophobic and militant about it, and since he’d have been helpless against humans... Still, that had been then and Xander Harris had never been interested in blokes, anyway. Best to ignore that whole train of thought.

“Right. And what are you wanting to do with me, then? Or, sorry, that Magus Prime of yours. Got any plans for good old Spike, mate?”

He forced himself to take a deep breath and hold it as he rode out the mental images that formed unbidden behind his suddenly closed eyelids. ‘Fuck… I do want him. But Spike doesn’t swing that way, and he’s a friend, or he will be, and… shit, we need to clear up the dragon question from his perspective, and…’

“Yeah,” Xander replied after a moment or two of arguing with his inner voice. “I’m going to assign you an apartment in the Vampire Sector. Uh, you’ll need to use a name other than ‘Spike’, though. We… can’t have anyone knowing you’re back, okay? Not yet, buddy.”

Spike frowned then shrugged. Boy couldn’t wait to get rid of him, apparently, and he wasn’t going to think about why that made him feel sad… bereft… lost. “Whatever, bloke,” was all he said, though he didn’t realize the coldness in his own tone.

Xander did notice it and he sighed. Parr for the course, he figured. “Uh, I’ll need you to come back in a few days… we’ll need to take your testimony on what happened in the alley that night, okay? Um, and what name do you want to be entered into the records under?”

The vampire shrugged, already wondering what he’d done to be treated so suddenly coldly by the human who had apparently not aged at all in the last two decades or so. They’d been talking, things had been fine, and then… out of nowhere the bloke wanted him gone. Gone from the Citadel, which was apparently the bloody Hyperion Hotel, and gone from him. ‘And that’s bloody fine,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t even like the bloke, do I? Especially not if he doesn’t even want to be friends, yeah? Yeah. Can find new bloody friends, I can. Ones who don’t know anything much about me.’

“William,” he finally said. “You can write me in as William Nemoy.”

Xander chuckled silently. He’d never figured Spike for a Star Trek fan. Of course, maybe his own interests had rubbed off on the vampire during their cohabitational experiences… and why had he just thought about rubbing off on Spike? ‘Bad brain,’ he told himself, groaning, ‘Bad, bad, bad brain…” He groaned again.

“Okay. I’ll get Andrew and Thomas to take you to your new home, then.” He frowned and sighed almost silently. “Come back in three days, okay? For the…testimony. I’ll… someone will call and schedule a time…”

“Fine. I’ll just wait for the pissant wankers outside, then.”

Xander sighed again, deeply this time, as Spike left the office. “Shit.”

* * * * * * * * *

Much as he hated to admit it, Xander bloody Harris had been telling the truth, Spike realized as he strolled through a very changed Los Angeles beside Thomas, as Andrew had been busy with something or other that Spike didn’t care enough about to remember. Truth, indeed, that things were… different.

He’d seen nothing of the seediness he’d expected, especially considering what the area around the Hyperion had been like in the old days.

Sure, there were still adult ‘bookstores’ and strip clubs, but there was a subtlety to their advertising that had been missing before, and as he and the other vampire moved east from the hotel, he saw that those sorts of venues died out, slowly replaced by blood banks, ‘live eats’ shops and a variety of other businesses that were clearly demon-centric but entirely in keeping with the increasing style.

“Uh, Tommy-boy… what’s with the neighborhood? Would have thought there’d be less…” Spike stopped, uncertain of how exactly to phrase it.

“What?” Thomas said with an amused grin, his earlier talk with his beloved cluing him to Spike’s penchant for nicknames. And if the much older vampire was calling him by one, he figured that meant the bleached blond approved of him at least slightly. “Oh… you figured the Magus Prime would keep all the… skin-stuff away from the Citadel?” He laughed. “Not likely, William. He likes knowing that his Guards won’t have to go out of their way for ‘entertainment’ between work and home. Besides, he…”

“He what?” Spike interrupted with a snort, “Likes to have himself a go with some young chits who won’t say no to his old, wrinkly ass?” He smirked. “Can’t say as I blame him.”

The younger blond blinked and stopped in his tracks, turning to the older.

“You didn’t… I thought you met him?”

Spike snorted again. “Met his assistant or something. Whatever Xander bleeding Harris is to your sodding ‘Magus Prime’. And I’m not so sure ‘prime’ means the same thing it used to if the bloke could do all that it seems he’s done but couldn’t give the boy his sodding eye back!”

Fortunately for Thomas, Spike was too busy avoiding the grin of a tall, round and purple demon to notice the look on his face, and he quickly schooled it.

“Oh,” Thomas said softly, wondering why nobody had warned him that the Magus was deceiving the newly returned vamp, “Well, Xander wanted things that way. Uh, something about deserving it…” Hell, he didn’t know what else to say, did he? ‘No,’ he told himself, ‘I don’t. And I SO don’t want Xander pissed at me… ever again.’ The one time had been enough, he figured, although Andrew had been an enormous help in making him feel worthwhile again and he honestly doubted that he and the Lieutenant would ever have connected otherwise, and… and suddenly Thomas realized exactly why the Magus Prime had said those things to him.

He smiled. Xander had hurt him in order to make him see just how amazing his Mate-to-be truly was, and it had worked. He’d have to remember to thank the Magus later.

“He was too slow, not brave enough or something. He deserved to lose his eye,” he repeated, remembering a few things he’d been told in quiet moments in the early days.

He was entirely unprepared for the other vampire’s reaction.

Spike didn’t even remember grabbing the younger blond and slamming him against the nearest building, but he must have done because here he was, pressing the boy into the bricks.

“Never,” he heard himself grating out between clenched and jagged teeth, “Say. That. Again.” He snarled. “The boy deserved to be saved! But I was too slow. My fault he’s minus an eye. Too. Fucking. SLOW!”

And just like that, Thomas found himself holding the older vampire tightly and pulling him into the alley beside the building. The last thing he’d ever do would be to allow Spike—William the Bloody—to break down on a public street in front of who knew how many other demons… even if none of them knew who the bleached blond was.

Thomas had a feeling—and he’d learned to trust his feelings—that people would know soon enough.

Besides, the Magus Prime wouldn’t thank him if he let Spike end the day feeling embarrassed.

* * * * *

So sorry I somehow skipped this part... and THANK YOU to the one who clued me! :)