All I Need...
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
40
Views:
14,219
Reviews:
137
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
40
Views:
14,219
Reviews:
137
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part 5
* * * * * * * * *
Part 5
“Bloody hell,” Giles gasped for approximately the twentieth time since leaving Andrew’s hospital room, “And bloody hell again. Spike’s been alive all this time! And the bloody little prat didn’t bother to… Oh, bloody hell. Xander!”
Frantic hours later, he was still trying to get through on the young man’s cell phone and having no luck whatsoever. Apparently that part of Uganda didn’t have a decent signal. Of course, it would help if he knew which part that was, Giles realized. The young man would hardly be staying at the same Lodge the vampire was; not if he was watching him.
It was shameful, Giles realized, but he was so used to thinking of the vampire as dead and dust that it took this long to grasp the notion of just calling him. He seemed to recall that Spike and Xander had begun to get along at least a little before everything Sunnydale had come to a screeching halt.
Of course, he had no idea of what name the bleached blond was using, but…
He sighed deeply and picked up the phone again. Andrew had told him that Spike had been working with Angel when he’d seen him in LA. Perhaps the older vampire might know something.
* * * * *
He didn’t care what the Watcher said, Spike decided. Not even if it had been nice to hear his voice and whatnot and bloody hell, how could he have known the sodding little bitch-boy would keep his yap shut? He’d blabbed every bloody thing he’d ever heard back in the old days.
The obvious stunned but happy disbelief in old Rupert’s voice made up for a lot, he admitted silently. Maybe he’d have to pay a visit to jolly olde once he left this place.
But he’d think about that later, because… no matter what Rupert said about the bloke being in Africa, there was no way bloody Xander Harris had spontaneously re-grown his eye, not to mention that whatever the thing was, it smelled… not like a demon, but also not like the pure, sweet human he remembered the bloke as being. Obviously whatever it was had intercepted the human and… he didn’t know. Maybe done that fucking bizarre Vulcan mind-meld thing his bloke used to talk about from Star… something.
He’d have to watch his step, but… he could do that. Get close to the thing and just… make sure his Xan was fine somewhere. Then… then he’d kill the fucking bastard. And maybe once he’d found out just where the real Xander was, he’d… pop by, pay him a visit, let him see that good old Spike was still around and kicking.
Yeah…
As plans went, Spike figured that was a pretty good one.
* * * * *
If he’d been sure the not-Spike was actually a vampire and not just playing the part, Xander might have spent the day by the pool or on one of the nature walks the Lodge offered. As it was, though, here he was in the stairwell, peering through the small window every time he heard a door opening in the hallway.
Still no sign of the whatever, though, and if it was pretending to be Spike then it’d probably stay hidden until nearly sunset anyway, just to be consistent. He couldn’t imagine it letting the act slip after all the obvious work it had put into getting it just right.
Maybe he’d go to the pool after all. He had a couple of hours and it was a damned nice pool. In fact he couldn’t remember the last time he’d swam in anything that didn’t contain mud and leeches. It might be nice.
* * * * *
He’d spent most of the daylight hours cruising the demon database on his laptop, glad now that Angel had made him learn how to hack as well as perform simpler operations on the bloody machine. He wanted to know exactly what kind of shape-shifting creature he was dealing with, after all.
Unfortunately, he’d come up with nothing. Sure there were a few demons that could change their appearance but every one of them had some kind of a tell and the thing he’d seen hadn’t displayed any of them.
Hell, if it weren’t for the eye and the distinctly not-human scent he’d caught, he would have had no problem believing the mask, it was that perfect. Older, yes, but humans had an alarming tendency to age. Bloody inconsiderate of them, especially when they went and made friends with a vampire, but there it was. Humans would insist on aging and refused to listen to reason. Selfish prats.
Spike was aware of the fact that he wasn’t making sense even to himself but it was better than worrying about what had happened to the true Xander so he went with it, his mind continuing its snarky monologue until finally he’d had enough of the bloody internet.
He shut down the laptop and stood, stretching the kinks of hours immobile from his body.
Almost sunset, he noticed suddenly. No wonder he felt stiff.
A quick meal of cold blood had him wrinkling his nose but he was too hungry to warm the bags in water at the moment, and then he stepped onto his heavily shaded balcony, gazing out over the pool and frowning when he saw the creature he’d been trying to research.
It certainly looked like a human, all sun-browned and glistening in the crystal blue water. More to the point, it looked like his human.
“Not mine,” he reminded himself quickly. “Xander’s his own human. But we were friends once… will be again once I kill that thing and find him.”
He deliberately chose not to revisit his concern that the boy—man, if what he was watching were an accurate representation—might be dead. If he was, there was nothing he could do about it, was there? Other than the already decided bout of torture, in any case.
No… he preferred to believe that Xander was out there somewhere, maybe all wet and gleaming like his double. It wasn’t a bad thought, although he had to fight the sudden tightening in his groin at the thought of finding the young man exactly that way. They’d never been like that, after all. Never would be, mostly because… despite Xander Harris’s bizarre fixation on flowered shirts, the bloke was as straight as they came.
And that was yet another thing that proved to Spike that it wasn’t really his human. From what he’d seen last night, this Xander dressed far too well. That should have clued him even before he’d noticed the eye.
Of course, now that he knew how well the real deal could clean up, he might have to try his hand at getting his friend to outfit himself similarly. It would make him look a lot less like a gay pirate, what with the eye patch and bloody loud shirts.
Yeah… focus on that and maybe he wouldn’t freak out before he figured out where the bloke was.
That thought in mind, Spike went quickly to the closet, pulling out a few things that weren’t what someone who knew him would expect to see him in. After all, if the creature had researched Harris enough, he’d know about the sleek and sexy vampire with the white blond hair and the penchant for black and red.
And that was how Spike came to be leaving his room half an hour later in soft, faded blue jeans, and a pearl grey lightweight sweater with the sleeves pushed up almost to his elbows. His feet were almost bare in the beach shoes he’d had to call down to the front desk for, glad they’d had a pair in his size at the gift shop. His hair was soft and gel-free, the natural wave allowed free rein and he’d even forced himself to leave cigarettes and lighter behind.
He headed for the lobby, secure in the knowledge that he looked as little like himself as he could manage without plastic surgery and would that even work on a vampire? He had no idea. Maybe he’d suggest it to Peaches, see if he could talk the bloke into giving it a try. Comment on the over-hanging forehead a few times and see what happened.
The git probably wouldn’t go for it, but it would be fun anyway. Likely to spend weeks wandering around the building asking his bloody employees if he had a Neanderthal brow.
It wasn’t the same as hot pokers in delicate places, but torment was torment, after all, and… he doubted his GrandSire would kill him for making him self-conscious. Not that the bloke wasn’t welcome to try.
* * * * *
He was just heading to his room to change and take up Spike-alike watch when he saw the thing in question crossing the lobby. He ducked quickly behind a potted plant, watching from a distance as the blond haired being strolled into the bar.
Whatever it was, Xander told himself with a nod, it wasn’t Spike. Spike would never wear flip flops for fuck’s sake, not to mention… the clothes, the hair… it was all wrong. The thing had obviously slipped up just a little but it was enough to prove the truth even if the changed wardrobe did look good on Spi… it. On it.
A quick dash—faster than even the quickest human speed—had the young man at his door. Moments later he was inside and naked, taking a quick shower before combing his hair, brushing his teeth and getting dressed.
Casual black suit in raw silk, tight sapphire blue t-shirt… the color of Spike’s eyes, he realized, then pushed that thought away. Spike was dead and whatever it was downstairs, it wasn’t him. No matter how much he wished it were, it just… wasn’t.
He almost changed his mind and stayed in his room, but…
He’d wanted to get close to the thing, find out what it was up to. And this would probably be his best chance. Besides, he’d met a few people in the pool and they’d all agreed to meet in the bar later, so… two birds, one very big stone.
“All right, Harris,” he told himself sternly, “Get in, find out what you can, and get out. No muss, no fuss. Then you figure out what to do. Simple. Easy. Yeah.”
But if it were so simple, why was his heart pounding out a rapid staccato, why were his palms
sweating?
Because… well, just because. And that would have to do for a reason, he told himself.
* * * * *
(A/N: Thanks to Fenris Mourningstar (glad you liked, but be aware that this is heading towards being a big porny thing. With plot, though. LOL) and TheShadowCat (missed that typo, thanks for catching it! *grins*) for the reviews. Always appreciated!)
Part 5
“Bloody hell,” Giles gasped for approximately the twentieth time since leaving Andrew’s hospital room, “And bloody hell again. Spike’s been alive all this time! And the bloody little prat didn’t bother to… Oh, bloody hell. Xander!”
Frantic hours later, he was still trying to get through on the young man’s cell phone and having no luck whatsoever. Apparently that part of Uganda didn’t have a decent signal. Of course, it would help if he knew which part that was, Giles realized. The young man would hardly be staying at the same Lodge the vampire was; not if he was watching him.
It was shameful, Giles realized, but he was so used to thinking of the vampire as dead and dust that it took this long to grasp the notion of just calling him. He seemed to recall that Spike and Xander had begun to get along at least a little before everything Sunnydale had come to a screeching halt.
Of course, he had no idea of what name the bleached blond was using, but…
He sighed deeply and picked up the phone again. Andrew had told him that Spike had been working with Angel when he’d seen him in LA. Perhaps the older vampire might know something.
* * * * *
He didn’t care what the Watcher said, Spike decided. Not even if it had been nice to hear his voice and whatnot and bloody hell, how could he have known the sodding little bitch-boy would keep his yap shut? He’d blabbed every bloody thing he’d ever heard back in the old days.
The obvious stunned but happy disbelief in old Rupert’s voice made up for a lot, he admitted silently. Maybe he’d have to pay a visit to jolly olde once he left this place.
But he’d think about that later, because… no matter what Rupert said about the bloke being in Africa, there was no way bloody Xander Harris had spontaneously re-grown his eye, not to mention that whatever the thing was, it smelled… not like a demon, but also not like the pure, sweet human he remembered the bloke as being. Obviously whatever it was had intercepted the human and… he didn’t know. Maybe done that fucking bizarre Vulcan mind-meld thing his bloke used to talk about from Star… something.
He’d have to watch his step, but… he could do that. Get close to the thing and just… make sure his Xan was fine somewhere. Then… then he’d kill the fucking bastard. And maybe once he’d found out just where the real Xander was, he’d… pop by, pay him a visit, let him see that good old Spike was still around and kicking.
Yeah…
As plans went, Spike figured that was a pretty good one.
* * * * *
If he’d been sure the not-Spike was actually a vampire and not just playing the part, Xander might have spent the day by the pool or on one of the nature walks the Lodge offered. As it was, though, here he was in the stairwell, peering through the small window every time he heard a door opening in the hallway.
Still no sign of the whatever, though, and if it was pretending to be Spike then it’d probably stay hidden until nearly sunset anyway, just to be consistent. He couldn’t imagine it letting the act slip after all the obvious work it had put into getting it just right.
Maybe he’d go to the pool after all. He had a couple of hours and it was a damned nice pool. In fact he couldn’t remember the last time he’d swam in anything that didn’t contain mud and leeches. It might be nice.
* * * * *
He’d spent most of the daylight hours cruising the demon database on his laptop, glad now that Angel had made him learn how to hack as well as perform simpler operations on the bloody machine. He wanted to know exactly what kind of shape-shifting creature he was dealing with, after all.
Unfortunately, he’d come up with nothing. Sure there were a few demons that could change their appearance but every one of them had some kind of a tell and the thing he’d seen hadn’t displayed any of them.
Hell, if it weren’t for the eye and the distinctly not-human scent he’d caught, he would have had no problem believing the mask, it was that perfect. Older, yes, but humans had an alarming tendency to age. Bloody inconsiderate of them, especially when they went and made friends with a vampire, but there it was. Humans would insist on aging and refused to listen to reason. Selfish prats.
Spike was aware of the fact that he wasn’t making sense even to himself but it was better than worrying about what had happened to the true Xander so he went with it, his mind continuing its snarky monologue until finally he’d had enough of the bloody internet.
He shut down the laptop and stood, stretching the kinks of hours immobile from his body.
Almost sunset, he noticed suddenly. No wonder he felt stiff.
A quick meal of cold blood had him wrinkling his nose but he was too hungry to warm the bags in water at the moment, and then he stepped onto his heavily shaded balcony, gazing out over the pool and frowning when he saw the creature he’d been trying to research.
It certainly looked like a human, all sun-browned and glistening in the crystal blue water. More to the point, it looked like his human.
“Not mine,” he reminded himself quickly. “Xander’s his own human. But we were friends once… will be again once I kill that thing and find him.”
He deliberately chose not to revisit his concern that the boy—man, if what he was watching were an accurate representation—might be dead. If he was, there was nothing he could do about it, was there? Other than the already decided bout of torture, in any case.
No… he preferred to believe that Xander was out there somewhere, maybe all wet and gleaming like his double. It wasn’t a bad thought, although he had to fight the sudden tightening in his groin at the thought of finding the young man exactly that way. They’d never been like that, after all. Never would be, mostly because… despite Xander Harris’s bizarre fixation on flowered shirts, the bloke was as straight as they came.
And that was yet another thing that proved to Spike that it wasn’t really his human. From what he’d seen last night, this Xander dressed far too well. That should have clued him even before he’d noticed the eye.
Of course, now that he knew how well the real deal could clean up, he might have to try his hand at getting his friend to outfit himself similarly. It would make him look a lot less like a gay pirate, what with the eye patch and bloody loud shirts.
Yeah… focus on that and maybe he wouldn’t freak out before he figured out where the bloke was.
That thought in mind, Spike went quickly to the closet, pulling out a few things that weren’t what someone who knew him would expect to see him in. After all, if the creature had researched Harris enough, he’d know about the sleek and sexy vampire with the white blond hair and the penchant for black and red.
And that was how Spike came to be leaving his room half an hour later in soft, faded blue jeans, and a pearl grey lightweight sweater with the sleeves pushed up almost to his elbows. His feet were almost bare in the beach shoes he’d had to call down to the front desk for, glad they’d had a pair in his size at the gift shop. His hair was soft and gel-free, the natural wave allowed free rein and he’d even forced himself to leave cigarettes and lighter behind.
He headed for the lobby, secure in the knowledge that he looked as little like himself as he could manage without plastic surgery and would that even work on a vampire? He had no idea. Maybe he’d suggest it to Peaches, see if he could talk the bloke into giving it a try. Comment on the over-hanging forehead a few times and see what happened.
The git probably wouldn’t go for it, but it would be fun anyway. Likely to spend weeks wandering around the building asking his bloody employees if he had a Neanderthal brow.
It wasn’t the same as hot pokers in delicate places, but torment was torment, after all, and… he doubted his GrandSire would kill him for making him self-conscious. Not that the bloke wasn’t welcome to try.
* * * * *
He was just heading to his room to change and take up Spike-alike watch when he saw the thing in question crossing the lobby. He ducked quickly behind a potted plant, watching from a distance as the blond haired being strolled into the bar.
Whatever it was, Xander told himself with a nod, it wasn’t Spike. Spike would never wear flip flops for fuck’s sake, not to mention… the clothes, the hair… it was all wrong. The thing had obviously slipped up just a little but it was enough to prove the truth even if the changed wardrobe did look good on Spi… it. On it.
A quick dash—faster than even the quickest human speed—had the young man at his door. Moments later he was inside and naked, taking a quick shower before combing his hair, brushing his teeth and getting dressed.
Casual black suit in raw silk, tight sapphire blue t-shirt… the color of Spike’s eyes, he realized, then pushed that thought away. Spike was dead and whatever it was downstairs, it wasn’t him. No matter how much he wished it were, it just… wasn’t.
He almost changed his mind and stayed in his room, but…
He’d wanted to get close to the thing, find out what it was up to. And this would probably be his best chance. Besides, he’d met a few people in the pool and they’d all agreed to meet in the bar later, so… two birds, one very big stone.
“All right, Harris,” he told himself sternly, “Get in, find out what you can, and get out. No muss, no fuss. Then you figure out what to do. Simple. Easy. Yeah.”
But if it were so simple, why was his heart pounding out a rapid staccato, why were his palms
sweating?
Because… well, just because. And that would have to do for a reason, he told himself.
* * * * *
(A/N: Thanks to Fenris Mourningstar (glad you liked, but be aware that this is heading towards being a big porny thing. With plot, though. LOL) and TheShadowCat (missed that typo, thanks for catching it! *grins*) for the reviews. Always appreciated!)