Protective Custody (1/20)COMPLETE

(Disclaimer: We own nothing. Joss owns all. You know the drill.)

A million images assaulted Spikes mind. Power. Lust. Him on top of the world, on top of his game. Vampire. People would quake when they saw him, not make fun or tell him what to eat. Yeah, there would be no ordering of the Spike, because he'd be in control. The big bad would be back!

"Yeah. No more being told to go to bed. Or eat the bloody greens. Or--". His arms shot out suddenly, and he grabbed Drucilla by the shoulders, holding her away as he had an epiphany. "Stop. If I do this now... he's the first person I'll kill." He knew the demon who'd possessed him before, and nothing would spare Xander from William the Bloody.

Spike saw the glint in her eyes, the look that said they'd enjoy it together. "I said no," he snarled, shaking the vampire, wishing he hadn't invited her in. "No one will touch him. No one."

“But Spike…” Dru whined, pouting at him. “The queen’s knight, he wants to take you away from me. Bad knight! No tea for him.” She pulled Spike close again, growling at a spot behind him.

The sound she made was a warning. Spike looked over his shoulder to see Xander. Not the Xander he was used to seeing. This one didn't wear a smile, or even the frustrated end-of-his-tether look he seemed to get so often for no particular reason these days. No, this Xander was calm, his face stony and serious, his gaze trained on Drusilla. And so was the crossbow. "Put that away, it's not necessary, yeah? I'm handling this," he said, frowning at the boy. Why couldn't he have stayed in the room?

“No.” Xander replied, never taking his eye of Drusilla. “No way am I letting a vampire and a clearly insane human alone in my flat. I like being alive entirely too much to do that.”

He’d heard the door open a while ago but he’d ignored it, too lost in his own funk and thinking that maybe Willow could talk some sense into Spike. ‘Cause who else could it be at the door. It wasn’t until he’d heard the first growl that he’d realised something was wrong. He’d managed to sneak a peak through the keyhole and the moment he saw Drusilla he’d run for his crossbow. Nobody messed with him or his own anymore. Even if his own was an annoying ass like Spike.

He didn’t care whether Spike wanted to be a vampire or not, Xander was supposed to protect him and he would!

Except that Spike hadn’t wanted to be a vampire. Not if it meant Xander’s death. Something to think about after Dru was dust because she sure as hell wasn’t getting out of here alive. Or undead. Whatever.
"Dru--" Spike's words of reason were cut off when he felt her make her move, and body slammed her against the wall to prevent her from getting to Xander. The boy thought she'd survived all these years and would be brought down by a bow and arrow. She was too quick for that, and too crazed to worry about a silly bow. Bloody hell, that body slam fucking hurt him all over. He'd scream later.

"Don't Dru..." he felt her hand slide around his throat; her nails digging into tender human flesh. He felt her lift him up off the ground. "Dru... old times," he gurgled. His feet touched the ground. At least he wasn't dangling like a silly puppet. One time didn't ruin a reputation made of a century, did it?

Xander kept the crossbow steady, waiting for a clear shot. Spike always seemed to be in the way and he wasn’t risking anything but a clear shot to the heart. He knew he’d only have one chance and it had to be right.

Dru narrowed her eyes at Spike. She didn’t like what she saw. Not at all. “It’s too late.” She gasped suddenly. “He’s already taken you from me. I shall tear him into a million pieces.” She declared stomping her foot. “Miss Edith does not like this, my William. You belong with us not him.”

Before Spike could sooth his vanity some more, he saw her shift fix on Xander. Again, an unfamiliar sensation of protectiveness washed over him. He crossed between them. "Please Dru.. I be..I be..." Fucking hell, he needed to get the plea out now. "I beg you. Please leave him... us alone. We'll play some other time, pet."

“You…you shan’t be my knight if I do that.” Dru observed, tilting her head at him. “You’ll leave me again, like daddy did.”

Her eyes took on a dreamy quality as she turned away from Spike. “I’ll find me a new knight. One of starlight and thunder. He shan’t leave me for the light.”

Spike released his breath as she turned to leave, but the crisis wasn't over, because Xander had just lifted the cross bow. "Xander, no!" The words were torn from his lips, half command, half plea... Too many fucking pleas to make when you're a bleedin' human...

The boy hesitated, and Dru was gone. Spike slumped back against the wall. "Thank you. Do you think I'll be sporting any bruises?" he asked, sliding his palm down his chest and right thigh where the impact against Drusilla had been the hardest. This body better toughen up a little faster, before he changed his mind and begged her to turn him.

“The hell did you do that for? I had a clear shot! Damnit, if Giles ever finds out I let Drusilla go I’m never gonna hear the end of it.” Xander glared at the empty doorway, trying hard not to stomp his foot like a five-year-old.
"Professional courtesy." He smirked. "Once a vampire you know."

This time Xander couldn’t stop the pout.

“I wanted to get her. You know how many people have been after her? The woman is insane but she’d damn hard to dust. And hey, you’re human now. Forgetting how to aim is one thing. By the way, don’t think I’ve forgiven you for that, ‘cause I haven’t. Forgetting that you’re food now? Whole other level of suicide. She could have killed you dead! And now I’ll have to ask Willow to do an uninvited thing. Just so you know, I’m blaming you. I already heard the lecture way too many times. Your turn now, buster.”

The last one was thrown over Xander’s shoulder as he went back to the bedroom to put the crossbow away.

"Turning into bloody mini-Giles now, aren't you," Spike closed the door, and headed for the room. "That wasn't a compliment." He watched the boy's angry motions as he put the cross bow in place in the closet and turned. Censure roiled from his dark brown eye. Spike shifted his weight. "She's my ... friend."

It wasn't the right word. But there was no word for sire, lover, companion, friend, team mate, and a damn good time, all rolled into one. "You wouldn't let anyone kill Willow when she was evil, would you? It's the same with Dru. I grew up with her." It had taken decades to grow from the spineless, down on his luck love poet he'd been when she'd turned him. And she had a lot to do with that.

"Willow was evil for a few days. Dru's been evil for centuries!" Xander declared. "Besides, you can't compare Wills and me to Dru and you. For one thing, Willow never left me for a demon. She left me for a werewolf. Notice the lack of slime?" As he babbled, Xander grabbed the phone and tossed it at Spike.

After the Dru incident he felt better about himself. Meaning he could forgive the food thing. "You're buying me pizza. You ruined my dinner and humans make up for stuff like that with pizza. Or at least they do when they ruin my dinner. Ask Willow. Speaking of Willow, she only tried to end the world once. How many times did Dru try to end it?"

Holding the phone, Spike's brows furrowed for only a moment. "Ah but... Willow was so much better at it, yeah?" That ought to take care of that argument. "You did say I could call Buffy?" The look in Xander's eye told him any further needling would result in no telly privileges or some other parental-style torture device that he came up with.

"Right... joke," he bit his lip and pressed the speed dial number for one of the eight or so pizza halls that were inputted. After he gave their phone number and address, he ordered. "Large pizza. Yes large... what do you mean large or super-large... when did they come up with super-large? Let me put it this way .. big, bigger, biggest... I want biggest. And if you say super-biggest I'll..." He gave Xander a frustrated look. "Toppings... I have to pick bloody toppings? Put everything on it." The excited jabbering from the other side had him gritting his teeth. "I have to pick a combination. Right. Combo A has....Look, give me combo C, and I don't really care what the bloody hell is on it, it's not for me. Right. Good." He put his hand out. "Give me your credit card so I can hurry up and buy you this pizza. Enthusiastic-guy on the other end is driving me mad."

Xander tried hard not to laugh at Spike's attempt to deal with the pizza guy. From the look Spike gave him though he was fairly sure he'd failed to hide his amusement. Served the over-bleached one right for being stupid enough to let Dru in, he thought as he handed over the credit card.

"Yeah but Dru killed way more people." He pointed out the moment Spike hung up the phone. "You're helping me tidy up and fix my table by the way. Part of your apology for slaying it."

"Buy a new one." He looked at the shiny bit of plastic in his hand. "We can go shopping tomorrow." That he slipped in, hoping for a yes since they'd discovered that leaving was no problem so long as they did it together. One more day in the apartment and ...

“I made that table. Made it. With my own two hands. First thing I ever made after I lost my eye.” Xander looked intensely at Spike, trying to get him to understand how much that table meant for him. “We’re fixing the table, Spike.” He concluded in a voice that brooked no argument, resolve face to the fore. His Willow had taught him well.

Spike slapped his hand around Xander's back. "Let's go fix the fucking table then. Maybe I'll earn a slice of pizza..."

Several hours later, after the table had been fixed, and the pizza eaten, and the mess cleaned up, the guys found themselves sitting on the sofa watching television. The fight must have gone out of both of them, as they were being quite friendly and civilized. They'd even managed to agree on a show to watch. Spike eyed the only 'fly in the ointment,' the bloody remote in Xander's hand. Why did he always end up getting control? There was something definitely wrong with this picture.

Those hands thought…. With those very hands, Xander actually built something. A whole table. Spike imagined him working on the table, carving the simple design on it. Strong, but gentle hands. And deft. Hard and soft, he knew just how they felt. Didn't he wake up with them on his chest, or at his waist every morning? The boy knew how to use those hands in different ways too... images of him pleasuring himself in the shower assaulted his mind. No... no... he didn't need to thing about that, or want to.

Dragging his gaze away from Xander's hands, Spike tried to regulate his breathing. It was a very sad day when an ex-vampire got hot and bothered over the thought of another man jerking-off. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Xander had been thinking about himself as he... NO no no, he was not going there. He tried to watch the show, and succeeded. But other things came to mind. Things that were less confusing and distracting.

Like the fact that he'd realized tonight that Xander had taken better care of him, and had taken plenty more shit from him, than Dru ever had. Dru had been downright cruel when he'd been stuck in a wheelchair. Xander on the other hand... His gaze went to the boy's face. Xander tried to stay angry. He could even hear Xander promising himself to stay angry and not help, but it was a promise he never kept. Would Buffy take this good care of him? He knew the answer. And it was no. No one had ever done so much for him, including wiping up the messes he left. And he was a bloody fool to think anyone else would ever do so. "You're too bloody nice," he snarled under his breath, hardly acknowledging Xander's startled glance, and turning away from it.

“Huh? What’d I do now?” Xander exclaimed, trying to figure out where the snarling had come from. He’d been sitting there, pleasantly tired, watching television and Spike was suddenly snarling at him. “What do you mean I’m too nice? What, I should have forced you to watch Captain Archer?”

Putting his hands behind his head, Spike turned slightly. "Got wax in your ears, yeah? I said I don't want to see any more bloody rice," he jerked his head toward the telly, where a family of four was now making ridiculous ummmm ummm noises in a commercial for wild rice.

“Rice…of course.”

Xander turned back to the television, smiling softly. Spike thought he was nice. Okay, so maybe he’d said it in a nice-equals-stupid kind of tone but still…he thought Xander was nice. The smile turned pleased. He liked that Spike thought he was nice. It was…nice. Okay so he was attracted to a guy. At least he was attracted to a human guy. Recently human but still…human! He stole a glance at the blond. Gorgeous human, he thought, smiling at Spike’s profile.

His eye moved to the kitchen where the recently restored table was gleaming with care. On the other hand, Spike was still Spike. Meaning he was annoying, could be mean as hell and still left wet towels everywhere. Much like Cordy and Anya in fact. Xander snickered quietly. Guess the gender could change but his taste could not. Besides, all three of them had another thing in common: they could all be very sweet when they wanted to be.

He’d heard Spike refuse Dru for him. Not strictly for him but for his life at least. Spike was mostly miserable as a human but he’d still refused the chance to go back to what he was because he didn’t want Xander to die. He’d been nice to him for the entire day after that as well. He’d even admired Xander’s craftsmanship, commenting on how well carved the designs on the table were. He liked this Spike…the one who didn’t feel the need to snark and put his attitude to the fore.

Another glance at Spike, who was frowning at something on the television. Maybe little Xan had the right idea after all.

Spike felt the weight of Xander's gaze. The longer the guy didn't take his eye off him, the more nervous he got inside. Finally he glanced at the boy, and saw exactly what he'd imagined. A soft brown eye filled with hope, a half smile, a dreamy look that teenagers reserved for their crush of the day, or hour. God, let it be hour. Spike swallowed hard, not wanting to like being the object of a look that spoke of dreams and wanting and promises. If he let him go on like this, things would get very messed up. This wasn't how things were meant to be. He...Spike was in love with the Slayer. Xander's pattern was fall for demon birds who tried to kill him. Why the bloody hell was he changing the rules on them now?!?

And why am I panicking?

A plan. He needed a plan. He was the master of plans, yeah... that was the ticket. He'd solve this problem, he would.

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