All I Need...

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Part 6

It wasn’t until he walked into the bar that he noticed the scent… that wonderful, thick, rich scent from the night before. The scent that even now had him wanting nothing more than to roll around in it, cover himself from head to toe and nearly drown in it.

He stopped, standing entirely still but for the subtle flaring of his nostrils as he tried to place it, or baring that, trace it to its source.

Long, tanned fingers flexed at his sides without conscious direction and he growled low and deep in his chest as that blissful aroma washed over him, coming from one direction more than any other and he growled again, a little bit louder, when his eyes followed and found only one being, one form that it could be coming from.

‘Spike,’ the spirit within him nearly purred.

‘Not Spike,” he answered silently, ‘Something else but not Spike.’ And how would the damned hyena know, anyway? It had been long gone by the time the vampire had set foot in Sunnydale.

He wasn’t entirely sure of how long he’d been standing there staring but apparently it had been long enough that the oh-so-familiar head cocked in a dearly recalled way, cool blue eyes staring at him from beneath arched brows.

“Fuck. Bloody buggering fuck,” Xander sighed, finally uncurling his fingers and slowly moving towards the blond.

“Hey,” he said quickly by way of greeting, “Sorry about that. You just… looked familiar for a second there.”

Spike snorted.

He’d watched the not-human shape that mimicked his friend enter the bar. Watched as it suddenly became more still than Xander Harris had ever managed even while asleep or knocked out, and he would know… he’d watched the creature filter the smells around it and there was no question in his mind. Whatever it was, wherever it had come from, it was not his Xan. Of course, no one who knew Xander would think it was. The clothing alone screamed… wrong.

“Not many blonds in these parts,” he finally replied, fingers clenching tightly around the bottle in his hand. “Guess it’d be easy ta see one an’ think it was someone ya knew. Cheers, mate.”

Xander swallowed hard. The impostor even had the voice right. It was… amazing.

“Uh, Alexander Harris,” he said quickly, “From California.” He’d be damned if he let this thing call him Xander. Hell, he thought it might… hurt to hear his name coming from what appeared to be his old friend but clearly wasn’t.

“William Sangriento. Will. English.” He said with a slight nod at the stool beside his, “But I’ve spent a bit of time in LA.”

“Yeah. Well, obviously with the English, right? Um, Sangriento? That’s… Spanish, right? You don’t really look… never mind. None of my business, right? And genetics? Does all kinds of weird stuff anyway. I don’t think anyone really understands it, but… okay, stopping now.”

Xander felt himself blushing and raised a hand to the bartender, nodding at the beer tap a few feet away. Fuck. Less than five minutes with something that just looked like Spike and he was making a fool of himself. William? What the fuck. And how not subtle was that last name? Sangriento. Like that wasn’t Spanish for ‘bloody’. Whatever it was sitting beside him, it wasn’t as smart as the vampire it was pretending to be.

His nostrils flared slightly as the wonderful scent from earlier became suddenly bitter but no less amazing. What the hell?

The fact that it had almost given him a Xander-babble pissed him off no end. Of course, he couldn’t let this demon or whatever it was know that, so Spike forced himself to smile and not rip the thing’s head off on general principles.

“Yah. Genetics,” was all he said, sipping his beer and signaling for another. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. ‘It’s not Xander,’ he reminded himself quickly. ‘No matter what it looks like, it’s not him. It doesn’t even know that he calls himself Xander, for fuck’s sake.’

“So,” the brunette said after sipping the beer that was placed before him, “What brings you to beautiful northwest Uganda? Gorillas? The falls?” And that wasn’t fucking awkward. “Or did you just want to get away from it all, whatever ‘it all’ is…” Lamer and lamer, damn it.

Another snort. “Somethin’ like that, Alex. It’s Alex, yah? Or do ya prefer th’ full-on formal Alexander, mate?” Bloody hell, he couldn’t do this. He hated it. Sitting here talking to this thing that wasn’t his friend… but somehow almost was. It was eerie, spooky, and any number of other things that shouldn’t be bothering him what with the whole vampires being spooky thing, but bloody fucking hell, he didn’t like it.

“So, bloke. How ‘bout you? What’s brought ya ta the ends of soddin’ civilization, then?”

“I like the beer,” Xander deadpanned, taking another sip of the mentioned substance. “Best beer in the world and you can only find it here.”

Blue eyes rolled. “Must be from a special keg, then. Tried it last week. Tasted like yak urine.”

A high-pitched almost nervous sounding laugh came from the brunette before being swallowed back with the next sip.

“Do I even want to know how you know what yak piss tastes like? Because I gotta say…” Xander blinked then shook his head. “I was gonna say gross, but then again, I’ve probably had worse things in my mouth during the last two years alone so never mind.”

Fuck. The bloody thing did know his Xan. Had to because that had been a completely Xander thing to say. Even the way the words came out. It was… fucking infuriating.

“Doubt it,” the vampire said, trying to sound calm even while soul and demon both were itching for a piece of the fucking prick. “Ya don’t look like you’ve lived rough much, mate. Not in that eight hundred dollar suit of yours, anyway.” And he would know. He had one just like it in his closet back in LA. Angel had insisted that he have something ‘nice’ in case he ever had to meet with clients.

The hyena growled softly, so much so that it was barely a vibration. “Yeah, well you know what they say, Will. Looks can be deceiving.” It took a huge effort but somehow he managed not to shoot an accusing glare at the blond.

Spike released one irritated breath and nodded. “Ya got that right… Alex,” he said, tone matching the other man’s perfectly. “Generally if it looks to good ta be true, it is.” And that definitely included the not-human, not-Xander thing beside him.

“Right. Well. Looks like my friends are here, so I’ll just…”

“Wait,” the blond sighed and lied like a cheap rug. “Sorry, mate. ‘s not you. Just had a bloody frustratin’ day an’ I’m guessin’ you did too. What say we try this again, ‘ey?” And hopefully the demon-whatever would take the supposed olive branch because he really did need to find out what had happened to the real Xander Harris.

A slow, considering nod later, Xander held out his hand. “I’m Alex. From California originally but I’ve been living here in Africa for a couple years. Uh, not usually anywhere as nice as this, though.” And thank God the Spike-alike had stopped him because he’d been about to fuck himself and Spike over by walking away from this thing that was using his friend’s face and burning the bridge behind him.

“Will,” Spike answered, shaking the hand gingerly to keep himself from crushing it and demanding answers. “Outta London an’ lately Los Angeles. City of Angel…s. Angels.”

And at least it was a start.

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He wouldn’t say it was comfortable, but not because the impostor had it all wrong. In fact, he’d found himself taking to the blond as though he really was the vampire he looked like a few times. And then of course, he’d remember that he—it—wasn’t and his heart would feel crushed for just a second.

It would have been so easy to believe, but one thing Xander had given up since he’d first stepped off the plane after Sunnydale had collapsed was lying to himself and while he desperately craved the comfort of believing, he couldn’t allow himself the luxury. It got harder with each drink, though.

He found himself focusing almost entirely on the full, pink lips, too pale to truly be called red, watching the curve and the divot in the top one as the blond formed words. Spike had always had a beautiful mouth although he’d never told the vampire that, afraid he’d be accused of lusting after him or something… especially after they’d watched ‘Deliverance’ that time. ’You got a real purty mouth…’ He almost laughed. Yeah, Spike would have said he was lusting.

And maybe he had been, in his own way, but it hardly mattered these days. Life had been different back then. He had been different. More innocent but also more… uptight.

He’d had the so-called ‘benefit’ or watching whole villages die since then, seeing disease sweep like wildfire through hundreds, leaving only the truly strong behind. He’d seen people he considered friends reduced to small reddish smears with not even a solid fragment of bone remaining after an elephant stampede, watched unbearably young girls die trying to bring their own children into the world, and…

And he’d learned to take comfort where he found it, to take whatever small pleasures came his way without worrying beyond making sure condoms were in evidence. And ultimately, he’d found himself.

Looking at this version of the vampire he’d known, he silently admitted that if this were the true Spike, he might have made some sort of a move. Hell, he would have had to.

But it wasn’t, and he didn’t, and he talked and tried to act natural and did his damnedest not to seem like he hated the creature who’d stolen his friend’s face and body and now flaunted them like a particularly vicious taunt.

He smiled and he joked and inside he just felt… sick. And lost. And like a traitor because he so desperately wanted to believe.

‘Not Spike, not Spike, not Spike,’ he chanted silently, even the spirit of the beast joining in although he could sense that it didn’t understand why it shouldn’t want the creature it was drawn to just as much as Xander was drawn to Spike… the real Spike. The Spike who was nothing more than a memory and a few flecks of dust beneath millions of tons of rubble that had once been a town.


He was crying inside, dying inside, but he’d never let anyone see. Not ever. It wasn’t as though anything could be done about it, after all, and… it had been easier without that face staring so intently into his own. Easier to… not forget, but step back. Not feel it so clearly.

He wondered for a moment how Spike would have felt if their positions were reversed, then pushed the thought away. Spike would have let it go about five minutes after Xander died, he was sure. The vampire had always been a ‘live in the moment’ kind of guy.

Xander still envied him that.

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(A/N: Many thanks to Fenris Mourningstar (SO loving your FB! Glad you've no issue with the porn and I'm blushing over the rest), TheShadowCat, Alice (reference was made to Andrew being in hospital in part 2. Easy to miss. *nods*), nulinka, chibifae and E for the comments. Always adored! *hugs for all* More soon, I think.)