Love's Bitches

Title: Love's Bitches 5/?
Author: Rowaine (rowained@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Spike/Xander, eventually
See first part for disclaimer, warnings, et nau nauseum
Feedback is welcome, but please limit yourself to constructive comments. Flames will be forwarded to my hormonal teenagers for their weekly bonfire and weenie roast.


:: Helluva way to run a railroad ::

After Xander left the table, Spike spends several minutes just staring at the lobster on his plate. The damned thing seems to be staring back, but that's just silly. It's been cooked, right? But there's this accusatory glare on its tiny crustacean face, telling him he screwed the pooch one more time, even if he has no idea how or why.

Whelp's got some kinda idea that I wanted to dust. Crazy that. Demon with a death wish? Hah! Or maybe he's just upset that it wasn't his idea to turn me into a pile of ash... didn't sound that way though. Almost sounded like he... missed me. That's insane. Sure, we might've gotten over the urge to kill each other (as often), but we weren't best mates, right?

A waitress comes by to remove the empty plates, asks him if he'd like another bottle of beer. The interruption is welcomed, forcing Spike to push aside speculation for the time. He deals with the check, makes the obligatory trip to the loo (even vamps wash their hands, folks), and grabs some mints on his way outside.

The brunette is just where he said he'd be -- waiting in the jeep. His face hidden in his hands again, like he's playing peek-a-boo with the outside world, his shoulders trembling just the slightest bit. For a few long moments, Spike simply stares. Lets himself take in the picture, trying to put pieces together. In the end, he gives up, opting for a 'research party' of his own. Hell, if it worked for the Scoobies all these years, it'd work for a centurian vampire, right?

Since Xander is occupying the passenger's seat, the blond slides behind the wheel. He opens his mouth to say... something. Anything that would shake the mortal from his funk. Nothing comes out, so he shrugs and pulls out onto the road.

The passage of scenary changes little, but there's something soothing about the clear gulf air at sunset. Xander's expression gradually relaxes into quiet serenity, simply enjoying the salty breeze through an open window, his eyes mostly shut. Spike hates to interrupt the mellow mood, but he's finally decided what needs to be said.

"About earlier... Dunno how to say this to ya, mate. You've been in the position often enough yourself, yeh? There's a job to be done and you're there. No one else either can or is... expendable enough to do it. Try to believe me, Xan, I didn't go into it hoping to die, k. Was all about making sure Niblet and Buffy and you and Red got out alright. Since the poof skidaddled back to LA, I didn't try to argue over it. Besides, no one told me I'd be channeling *sunlight*, understand."

Breathing deeply, he pulls over to the side of the road and turns toward his companion. "Of all your gang, you're probably the only one who comes close to getting how bloody hard it was on me, coming back with a soul, yeh? Took months to get over most of the crazy thoughts, and you're the main one who got me through it all. Weird yeh, not like soft-hearted Red or General Slayer. You never had much use for me, so you wouldn't let me get off easy like they would. No slap on the wrist or hug to make it all better. And that's what I needed. Never got a chance to say thanks either. Heh, thanks from William the Bloody to a happy meal."

A half chuckle is the only reaction.

"So anyways, it's done. Spent months just watching you lot, knowing you made it out mostly in one piece. Whatever half world I was in, it let me hear and see most things, but only about the people I was closest to." Snort. "Never Peaches though, how's that for irony. You've got questions, so've I. How bout we answer them little at a time then, instead of dragging a muggy blanket of PMS over your lovely road trip, yeh? Figure it out as we go. 'S'way it's always worked best for me."

Finally, Xander lifts his face toward the blond. Those beautiful whiskey brown eyes are shimmering with unspilt teabut but a smirk forms on his lips. "Probably right. After all, when have we ever ruined each other's good moods?"

Spike takes exactly five seconds and two breaths before the snickers start. And if the laughter had a hysterical edge, who could blame them? Apocolyptic humor, REM had it right. 'It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.'

:: Aftermath of a mouse ::

Even on threat of the most vile pus and holy water submersion, Spike would never admit just how much he had enjoyed the days riding kiddie rides and annoying the geeks in cartoon costumes. He'd even let himself be talked into getting a set of mouse ears. Of course, had he known that the whelp would insist on personalizing the stupid scrap of black felt with 'Billy D. Bloody', he'd have probably put up more of a fight. Or not. It had been too long since he'd had as much fun without having to steralize his cloths afterwards.

There had been no more attempts at heart-to-heart chats, and few moments of depression from the mortal. Too many childhood dreams being fulfilled to waste time on such morbid curiosity. At least, that's what Spike hoped.

He'd watched the young man spend a small fortune on knicknacks for his girls, then even more on shipping them off to their respective homes. Priority mail even. Another puzzle piece comes into play, but it doesn't add anything to the overall picture so far, only makes it a bit more blurry around the edges.

So he still wants to spoil them, dole out the affection, whether or not they reciprocate. But he isn't pining for their company... but I'm here. Does that mean he won't show how much he misses them cus I'm around, or that he isn't lonely cus I'm around. Or that he's actually *glad*...

Sporting his eye-damaging neon green Marvin the Martian shorts and a black Epcot t-shirt, Xander stows the few remaining bags of Disney paraphenalia in the back seat. Three days oing ing a big kid, with no one to tell him to act his age. Hell, the park encourages childlike behavior. But he's seen it, experienced it, and now it's time to move along.

There's been no new emotional scenes since that last stop off before Orlando, and he's actually kinda glad. Sure, he's still got hundreds of questions, but... But Goofy's reaction when Spike growled at him was very real. And Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum may never recover from that unfortunate incident with the 'pink things' and silly string, orchestrated by the same vamp.

Who now walks during the day and forgets to put on sunblock. Who is way too cute with bedhead and snuggles into the nearest source of heat, even if that happens to be one Xander Harris. Who only put up a token protest when pushed toward the Teacup ride, then had to rush to the bathrooms before spewing cotton candy and hot dog residue over himself.

So yeah, he's still got questions, but they're changing some. He's been training his mind to squish any 'mom and dad' thoughts -- the ones that tell him how to live and think, not memories se. se. Which is good, personal growth. But it's also bad... Cus this vampire, this *person*, beside him is someone he could easily fall for, and that's more terrifying than another apocolyptic crisis at Slayer Central.

And maybe now he understands a bit more about his reactions to those last months in Sunnyhell. (And isn't it odd how he only thinks of it like that, never SunnyDALE?) Taking car a n a newly-souled Spike, making sure he didn't hurt himself during nightmares, making sure he fed and bathed. Listening to his 'love's bitch' speech in the retelling -- more than a dozen times, since it seemed to be a very popular theme. So maybe that's where his mind started connecting the bleached wonder with relationship-y feelings. If he's honest with himself, Xander can admit that he too is a whore for love.

Only now it looks like he's going to have to expand his erotic library some... Man-sex -- so not able to list that on his dating resume.