Fisi Mtima

Title: Fisi Mtima, Chapter Seven
Author: frk_werewolf
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Xander/Spikatinating: NC-17
Story Summary: A battle is fought and from within an animal is released. Featuring Hyena!Xander.
Chapter Summary: Spike thinks and walks. Xander sits and thinks. Then weird things happen.

.Chapter Seven.

Spike left Xander sitting on the street corner. On a normal night, he would of pointed out the stupidity of being a human, out at night, and all alone. But he realized Xander was no longer human. However the rest of the world viewed him, they were wrong. Spike didn't think Xander had been human for a long time.

In fact, he used to think that Xander was the most boring of the Scooby Gang. He was the dopey human boy with a big grin and no special powers. Spike could admit even now that he had always felt something within Xander Harris, but ignored it because it was so faint and small it was no more than a tickle at his spine. It was much later, from Angel turned Angelus, that he would learn of the Hyena.

Spike pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his duster and proceeded with lighting it. After one glance back, which revealed at a far distance Xander was still sitting at the curb, Spike walked toward the cemetery and out of sight.

He didn't care if Xander was attacked. No, that was a lie. Spike muttered a curse.

It wasn't that he wanted to care. And that was just the problem. He didn't, with all his demon, want to care. Yet, Spike had never been normal. He could accept that; he's had to accept that. He felt things most vampires did not feel, even among his own vampire family.

Drusilla was wicked, pure and simple. She seemed naive, like a child almost, but she had a mind that could create the most disturbing way of murder. She had the drive to pull it through, too. Darla was a leader, the type to tell someone what to do then watch with glee as blood was splattered everywhere. And then there was Angelus... He was a sex fiend. A murder. A psycho. And most of all, he was intelligent. He was able to be at his worst, trying to destroy the world, and yet still be able to plot and kill without mercy. He felt no guilt. He was more cruel and sexual than any other vampire Spike had ever met.

Spike wasn't like that. He did have the nickname Spike, due to torturing victims with railroad spikes. He had committed those crimes. He had murdered nearly one hundred people with only a spike and a hovering Drusilla. Nearly one hundred people. It sounds like a lot, but it's not. Angelus killed that many people in a week. It took Spike ten years to reach that number. It was pure horror, once he had done the deed. The area of bathed in blood and the body hardly identifiable.

Out of over one hundred years as a vampire, Spike had only tortured one hundred people. He had killed many for food, but most of those feedings were swift, unless Drusilla wanted to play. All the years, aside from the ten that led to his knew nickname, he has been both alive and undead were spent doing things that most vampires didn't do. The first fifty years was a time that, if Spike would admit it, was a little embarrassing.

While most vampires kept certain qualities from their human guise (Drusilla remained psychic, Angelus was still a lady's man, etc.) most dropped their core being. Drusilla would no longer speak of her Catholic upbringing. Darla never mentioned her human period. Angelus no rebelled, though he did kill and maim - it was in no way a sense of rebellion on his part, more embracing his nature. Spike, though, could still feel the pressure of an ink pen against his fingers and the feel of parchment.

He collected books, candles, and art. He wrote stacks and stacks of poetry (though, admittedly, they were much darker than before). Most of all, he loved. He truly loved Drusilla, and even now, when he knows they are over, he cares about her.

Maybe there was something wrong with him. Spike didn't know, and right now he didn't want to care. He wanted to stop thinking. To stop wondering if Xander was okay. To stop feeling as though his heart to shattering with every step he takes that's away from Xander.

Spike stopped in front of his crypt, staring at the door with what could only be described as disdain. He hated it here. Oh, sure, he enjoyed Sunnydale to a certain degree, but this crypt... It was dank and dark and everything that Spike had come to despise in his vampire years. He was pampered, and this place was as far from what he liked as it could get.

Most of all, it was empty.

"You're a pathetic twit." Spike told himself, before kicking the door open and sauntering inside.

Down the street from the Magic Box, Xander was still sitting. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them, his forehead resting on his arms. Thwas was a noise in the distance, and Xander's skin prickled. Looking skyward, he saw the signs of rain.

Knowing he should get home, Xander glanced toward the Magic Box, noting it's darkness as a signal that his friends had left. In the opposite direction was emptiness and a single street lamp. The slight scent of leather and menthol told him Spike had left not long before. Sighing, Xander allowed his gaze to settle on the pavement.

His mind, though still turbulent in ideptdepths, had settled for the moment. He was willing to let this whole scenario ride out to the end. He knew, without a doubt, that it would happen that way whether he fought it or not and frankly he was tired of fighting life on the Hellmouth. It would be so simple to simply give into these new urges and instincts, to take them and mold them to himself fully by accepting. But he understood without a doubt that accepting the instincts would mean accepting Spike as his mate.

Much to Xander's grief, he was having trouble deciding why that was wrong.

"Because you hate Spike." Xander whispered aloud. "...Alright, maybe not so much anymore. He's grown on you... Like a tick he digs into the skin and you can't pull him out. He even drinks blood like one."

An echoing sound interrupted Xander mini-dialogue. Blinking, Xander looked down the dark street, but even with his better vision he could not see anything. Taking a quick glance at his watch, he decided that it was time to get home. Xander stood, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and turned toward home.

His feet made soft noises on the pavement. His breath remained quiet, barely a sound on the street. Then, turning around one corner, Xander felt the air catch in his chest and his heart begin to pound. Standing before him was the demon Buffy had described. Seven feet tall and green. It's arms waved from side to side, as though made of water. It's white eyes met his and the demon's nostrils flared as it scented the air.

Xander knew full well that the Hyena was a part of him, but at that moment it became apparent that sometimes he was still as clumsy as ever. After that single moment of tension, the demon had sped forward, howling. Xander stumbled backward, tripping over his feet. Spinning, he finally got his footing and began to do the only thing that would come to mind: He ran.

He wasn't being a coward, he knew that. It was only him against a huge demon that would probably be a hard fight for Spike and Buffy combined. This was a survival moment, and his mscrescreamed to run faster. His instincts, hidden and interlocking with his mind, howled for him to call help. To retrieve the pack and then, after they had grouped and assessed the enemy, take back their territory.

Xander barely made it onto the street of the Magic Box before the demon had a hold on him. A jelly-like hand squished his shoulder in a shockingly tight and painful grip. Xander was pulled back and then spun. His chest connected first with the brick wall, followed by his head. Stars filled his vision and pain laced his thoughts. Xander let out a harsh growl, a warning.

He could feel the tall demon behind him. There were now two hands against him, one holding him hard against the wall, the other trailing down his spine in a movement that sent shivers across Xander's body, and not the kind associated with pleasure. Xander's mind cried to break down, to simply be, but his human mind couldn’t help but run through scenarios of what this demon wanted with him. A whimper escaped his throat, overlapping and replacing the growl.

"So pretty." The demon announced in a strange accented voice. The wandering hand of jelly suddenly latched onto Xander buttocks, squeezing painfully.

Xander held his breath and pressed his hands against the cool brick to steady himself. Then, with a sudden burst of anger and speed, he jerk back and connected the top of his head with the demon's chin. The demon grunted, momentarily disgruntled. Xander whipped around and prepared to launch an attack at the demon, in order to drive it off. But instead, Xander was met with one thick fist.

The demon's hand once against gripped his shoulder, pressing and grinding his back against the wall. Xander looked up at the demon, showing nothing but anger on his face while the demon looked highly amused. He could feel a bruise forming on his face and chose to concentrate on that minor pain instead of give into the brutal torture that would no doubt follow.

Spike stared at his broken television. The black screen stared back at him. He could feel something, something alien, in the back of his mind. Spike quickly ignored it and continued to stare at the black screen, urging it to work and play an episode of Passions or bloody horror flick. He sighed. This was, he decided, boring.

Then the pain began. It was sharp and quick, stretching across one side of his chest to the other, then centering at his heart. Spike leapt to his feet, hand clutching his chest. He would look to any that spotted him as a man undergoing the horror of a heart attack. The pain was so intense that Spike could not hide the agony from his face. His demon shifted, his eyes glowing yellow, and the pain exploded.

Once it had faded, his chest returning to a cold and beat less portion of his body, Spike lay on the floor and gasped for un-needed breath. His face flickered, undecided on which form to remain, before settling on human. Spike closed his eyes and tried to not think about what just happened. Something had happened, something that didn't seem normal, but Spike wanted to be ignorant for just one moment.

Something warmed in his body, a warning of something to come. The something appeared to be another shock of pain. Arching his back, Spike struggled onto the floor to hold back a scream. Then, as quickly as it appeared it was gone, but this time something was left over. He felt it in his chest, a soft thudding and a strange sensation. Warmth spread through him, his body tingled.

His heart was beating.

"Bloody hell." Spike breathed.

But the blissful moment of feeling something he had not experienced in forever was gone by the time the words had left his mouth. His body cooled, returning to room temperature. His chest stilled. And in his mind, he knew. He simply knew, without thinking about it and without debating, that his mate was in trouble.

For a split second he wanted to deny that anyone was his mate. He didn’t mate, like a wolf or... Hyena...

Spike jerked to a sitting position, his eyes wide. Quickly, he got to his feet and, only stopping to grab his leather duster, he literally ran out of the crypt. On a normal night, the trip from his crypt to the Magic Box was actually a short one. On this night, however, it felt like eternity. By the time he reached the correct street, Spike lallyally felt he was too late for whatever he was meant to do. Then he spotted the tall, green demon.

At it's feet, a body was crumpled. A puddle emitted from Xander, indicating a small, yet steady, stream of blood loss. Xander's shirt was ripped apart and his jeans looked as though they were about to fall off. Anger surged inside Spike. He couldn't explain it. In fact, he didn't want to explain it. Right then, the only thing crossing his mind was killing, murder, bloodshed, and every other violent rod that came to mind.

The demon never knew what hit him. A strong and solid body launched into his side. Fists, feet, and every thing available was beating into him. Then, with one swift movement a searing pain erupted in his neck, bones cracked, and he fell to the ground in a dead pile.

Spike stared down at the demon's body, in demon face and emitting a continuous growl. A soft whimper broke into his empty, heated thoughts. Darting forward, he gently turned Xander until he lay on his back. Bruises and scratches were littered across Xander's body. The blood appeared to be the product of a deep gash across his right side, near the same spot the snake-demon has scratched Xander - A wound that had started everything.

"Xander?" Spike spoke softly, watching Xander’s face intently. Xander’s eyes fluttered and suddenly there was a gravelly sound vibrating through Xander's chest. Spike's hand lightly rested n unn undamaged area, feeling the rumble as Xander actually purred.

Spike could remember the one time this had happened before, when the hyena had first appeared and taken over. When Xander was huddled in the corner of the Magic Box, scared and unsure of his surroundings. Spike knew it was for the same reason as before: comfort. To ensure to himself that his body was intact, he was alive, and he would make it. Spike understood the sentiment, even though - contrary to a strange belief - vampires didn't purr.

"Xander, love?" Spike leaned close to the mortal, watching as a pair of eyes opened. Spike held back his gasp at the sight. Xander's eyes were still brown, but the outer rim of his iris was glowing bright green. The green flashed, before dimming back to the normal chocolate color.

"Spike?" Xander asked, his voice weary.

"Yeah, love, it's me." Spike smiled slightly. "You okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Xander asked, trying to sit up. The purr slowly faded as Xander propped himself against the brick wall. He stared over at the dead body of the demon, watching as it slowly began to evaporate. Spike could see the shiver that ran through him.

"What happened?"

"I was entering a level normally restricted to Angel when Mr. Jelly over there decided he liked my ass." Xander replied calmly. Spike growled and shot the decomposing corpse a dirty look. When he turned back to Xander, he frowned at the amused look. "Why are you here?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business, is it?" Spike replied, before caving at the slightly pained look in Xander's eyes. He eyed the gash in Xander's side and grabbed a part of the ripped up shirt to slow the bleeding. "Something happened when I got home, is all. Don't know if that has anything to do with it or not, but afterwards I just kind of knew... I had to get to you. To protect you. Bugger, this is stupid."

"I called for you." Xander whispered. Spike's head shot up and he stared at Xander in minor shock. For some reason, he had been expecting that. "I couldn't get away and I just wanted my mate. You don't believe me, I know you don't. But I don't care, Spike. I don't care. You're my mate, and I wont share you with anyone. You're mine."

A series of emotions shot across Spike's face, before landing on a mix of arousal and thought. Spike's eyes dropped to Xander's chest, at the location of his heart. He could feel the echo of early in his own, the split second when he had a heartbeat. While that was something he needed to get to the bottom of, this thing with Xander was just as important. Xander was important. Spike looked back into Xander's eyes.

"Bloody hell, what do you expect me to do here?" Spike asked.

"Honestly?" Xander raised an eyebrow, before wincing slightly as the pain in his body became more noticeable. "I want you to admit that you feel something here. I want you to claim me as I have claimed you. I want you to admit to my claim on you. Mostly, I want to fall in love with you and for you to do the same. As stupid as that may sound, it's true."

"I'm a vampire, Xander." Spike said. "I can't fall in love."

"That's a lie and you know it, Spike." Xander replied.

"Is it?" Spike tilted his head. He felt something inside him ache at that moment. Before he could stop himself, he reached forward and lightly stroked Xander's cheek. The moment their skin touched the ache was gone, replaced with a small sense of pleasure. Spike simply knew that they had a bond, however small it was at the moment. He could fight it, or run with it.

"You're full of emotion, you know." Xander told him. "If you can hate and laugh, why can't you love?"

"Well, that's the question isn't it?" Spike smirked lightly before sighing. "Come on, pet. Let's get you home."