5 Days More
by
BmblBee
Part Six
1:40 am Saturday morning. Xander Harris has been dead two hours and forty minutes.
Spike was sobering up rapidly. It was the first inkling that perhaps a drunken wish carelessly tossed out on the hell mouth was not a good idea. There was, after all an upside to boredom if one just took the time to look for it.
Willow had tugged the vampire away from the body of her oldest and dearest friend, the darkness of the cramped small room concealing the shocked expression Spike struggled to control. He immediately pulled away. Any physical contact with the witch gave him the heeby geebies.
"Here's the deal, Spike. We need someone to go back in time a few days and find out what happened to Xander. We have a spell that we think will work but neither of us can do it because we're alive and frankly want to stay that way. That's where you come in. You aren't."
Spike scowled. Somehow that felt like an insult, but he let Willow continue.
Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, the witch retrieved a small burgundy, velvet pouch. It was secured with a golden ribbon which she quickly proceeded to untie.
Spike and Buffy both stood by and watched as she turned the
pouch upside down and caught the contents in her palm.
Holding her hand out they could see five green cat's eye marbles shimmering and sparkling, illuminating the darkness of the cellar room. Spike reached out but snatched his hand back before
touching. He wasn't stupid. "How do they work? What do I have to do?"
Willow dropped the marbles back in the pouch and tightened the drawstring. She then shoved them toward the vampire leaving no doubt what was expected. He accepted the pouch, relieved when it didn't burn him.
"Now, listen up. Time is short. Each of these marbles will transport you back to a specified time. I have set them to last for twenty hours each. You will arrive at 3am and return the next day at 11:00 pm. The reason I did that is so that you can report back to us. If we get the answers we need in the first few times, you won't have to use all five. Do you understand so far?"
Spike was completely lost. He was wondering again why he thought
making a wish was a good idea.
"I don't get what it is you want me to do. Besides that, you two
were his mates, what was he doing the last few days?"
The corner of Spike's mouth curled up in a disgusted sneer at the silence that answered him.
"Oh, that's it isn't it? You were so busy with your superficial little lives that you didn't have any time for him. Now you want to know how he was careless enough to let himself become some vampires midnight snack."
Buffy drew her fist back, hoping to put all she had into the punch. She didn't care that he was right or maybe she was doubly furious because he was. This time it was Willow who grabbed her arm as it drew back.
"Stop it Buffy. You know he's not wrong." Turning to Spike, Willow went on. "You're on target, Spike. Regretfully none of us has seen Xander in the last few days. On Monday, Buffy ran into him and he complained
about you bugging him but neither of us spoke to him after that."
Spike frowned. He hadn't see the boy in weeks, and certainly didn't care enough to aggravate him. No, whoever was getting on the boys last nerve was not Spike. Deciding an argument over this discrepancy was pointless, Spike let her keep talking.
"He wanted to have lunch, but I told him I had tests and was busy with classes. I meant to call him later in the week, but just never got around to it. Buffy has been working more with Giles on some issues the Council has complained about so she hasn't called him either. We just need to understand what happened. We need to know......."
"You want to know if it's your fault the boy's dead."
Willow choked back the guilt and emotion. "Yes, I guess we do, but that's not all. I'm not exactly sure how it
will work, but if you can find some way to save him, please, please Spike, do it. Stake the vampire that bit him and save his life. We would both be more grateful than you can ever imagine."
Spike tipped his head to the side and lifted one eyebrow. "Eternal gratitude, huh? And just what form would that gratitude take cause I gotta tell you I'm not putting my sexy white arse on the line out of the goodness of my heart. And to be honest, there is no love lost between me and donut boy over there. So I believe there were certain incentives mentioned?"
Spike waggled his eyebrows and tucked his tongue behind his teeth suggestively. Buffy nodded her head encouragingly.
"Oh, sure. Absolutely. I mean we will both give you a real big blow job, won't we Willow? I mean, yeah, together, separately, which ever. Totally. But only when this is all done."
On a normal day, Spike would have been suspicious and doubtful of the Slayer's sincerity, but since making his wish, nothing about this night had been normal, so his final decision had been 'what the fuck.' and an agreeing nod.
Spike shoved one of Xander's legs to the side and hopped up on the wooden slab of a butcher block table. He rubbed his hands together briskly and smiled.
"First, I need blood. Damn near starvin' I am and I know the Watcher has a whole freezer full. I'm going to need to be at full strength for a job of this magnatude."
Buffy squinted suspiciously. "You get half now. Four quarts of human, and the rest when the job is done."
"O.k. then, deal made, terms accepted. How do we do this?"
Buffy grudgingly went up to retrieve the blood as Willow explained. Willow rattled the velvet bag that Spike held in his hand. "You take out one of the orbs and smash it on the ground. The resulting shock field will zap you back. Now, Xander, um, died, on Friday night around 11:00 p.m. For the first time I am sending you back to Monday morning at 3:00 am. You need to find a way to spend the day with him.. Talk to him and see what's going on. At exactly 11:00 pm on Monday night, you will begin to feel a pulling sensation. You need to be somewhere that Xander won't see so you don't freak him out. At that time you will be snatched back here.Kind of like a rubber band, you will be shot out and snapped back."
Spike gave all this some thought and in a very frightening way it almost made sense.
"You just want me to talk to him? Wouldn't it be easier to just tie him
up so that he can't go out?"
Buffy returned and handed Spike the mug of warm blood and looked hopeful, but Willow just shook her head.
"No. We don't know what altering time like that would do. That's why I just want to know how he was. What was going on in his life. Did he find another job? Was he seeing someone new? Was he depressed? Was he going out on patrol alone often?"
Buffy gasped. "Oh, God, Willow. Do you think he went out intending to be killed? He wouldn't do that, would he? Is that why he didn't fight back?"
Willow's voice dropped to a whisper. "That's what Spike is going to tell us."
She then lifted her face and steadied her resolve. "Now, when you come back here, one day will have passed for
you but after the first orb, each one will account for one hour or so of our time. That means if you go right now....."
Willow checked the time on her watch, holding it just inches from her face in the dark room.
"You will be back here at 2:00 am our time. Are you ready?"
Spike jumped down from the table. He gulped the wonderful, rich O+, turned around, facing the dead man on the table, and patted his face.
"Be seeing ya soon, Buddy." He then straightened his coat, smoothed back his hair and cracked his neck on each side. Reaching into the velvet pouch that rested safely at Xander's side, he withdrew the first sparkling round marble and lifted his hand high in the air.
"Get the lip gloss ready ladies, be back soon."
With that, Spike smashed the marble on the floor in front of him. Immediately, a blinding flash of white light exploded, lighting up the room like the shock of a bolt of lightning, temporarily blinding both the women who stood there. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
"AH! Willow, shit. You there?"
"Yeah, Buffy, don't move. Just give it a minute till your eyes focus. Spike? You o.k? Spike?"
The room was silent. Spike was gone.
Part Seven
3:00am Monday morning. Xander Harris has 5 days to live.
Spike felt himself tumbling backward and threw his arms about wildly trying to gain some purchase and stop what he feared may be a bottomless drop.
"UH!"
Immediately his back hit solid ground. Damp, wet, grassy, solid ground.
"Ha! Damn. And here I always heard that vampires were like cats. Toss them from a building and they land on their feet. Guess that's not always true. Ha ha. Your ass fell backward off that tombstone slicker than Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall. Good one Spike."
Spike immediately scrambled to his feet and looked around. He was obviously in a cemetery, Long View probably, and presently being taunted by.......
"Harris?"
The grin slipped from Xander's face and he cautiously stepped closer. "Of course it's me. You o.k? You look like you just saw a ghost."
As everything flooded back to him, Spike regained his composure and slipped into his big bad as smoothly as one slides on a mink coat. He flipped a cigarette from a slightly squished pack and tucked it between his lips with still shaky fingers.
"Course. Right as rain, I am. Say, boy, what time is it?"
Xander took a quick glance at his wrist, tapped it with his fingertip, then looked again. Idly he slowly resumed his stroll, Spike falling in beside him.
"I think it's about 3am, but this darn cheap watch. Can't always be sure. Why? You got a bus to catch? Maybe a trip to Vamp village on your schedule tonight? Or maybe you're up for an episode of HGTV's Vacation Crypt search."
Spike frowned. No wonder some marauding vamp ate his arse. Fuckin' boy was irritating as hell.
'Shit!' He thought. 'Let's do this fast. One trip and I don't need to come back.'
"No, smart arse. Just need to keep an eye on the time's all. You know, daybreak allergy. Sides the real question is what are you doing out here all alone at this hour of the night. Nummy treat like you can be a real demon magnet. I thought the Slayer kept better track of her pets than to let one of them wander off alone and helpless."
Xander stopped walking and stood with his hands on his hips. "Fuck you Spike! I'm nobody's pet and what I do with my own time is my own business. Why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone?"
With that he turned down one of the worn pathways that wound between the rows of headstones and he disappeared into the darkness.
Spike kicked a rock off a mound of fresh dirt and watched him go. "Well, fuck. 19 hours and 45 minutes to go and I've already arsed this whole thing up. Ought to just sleep away the day and weave me a bit of a story when they tug me back. Fuck them. Fuck him. HARRIS! Wait up."
Spike broke into a trot and followed the scent of the human, within minutes locating him in the oldest section of the graveyard. It was an area long overgrown and forgotten. Most of the headstones, made of wood, were rotted and one by one snapping off to lie and meld into the earth.
It sat on the side of a gentle slope and had a short, three foot high wrought iron fence around it. A giant maple tree stood guard as it had from the time the wind had blown the wayward seedling to land in the spot it now grew, lived and thrived among the place of the dead.
"This is one of my favorite places to be." Xander spoke quietly, never looking up but knowing Spike was standing close behind him. He pulled one hand out of his jacket pocket and pointed to a square granite stone that read:
1890 - 1941
Here lies Pete Place
Caught cheating with an extra ace
Xander took a step to the side and smiled at the next one.
1840 - 1882
Maggie Muckus
Made her living by XXXXXXX
"The last part had been deliberately scratched out and defaced. Probably by the good church folk of Sunnydale. Pity they can't recognize good literature when they see it."
Spike had to chuckle. He had never spent much time in this part of the cemetery and had never noticed these stones.
"Yeah, folks back then had a better attitude for the passin' of a bloke from one world to the other. They knew it was all just part of life. Now, everyone fights it. None of you want to get old. Doctors dragging it out till yer lives are more painful than yer deaths. Humans. Never did understand 'em."
Spike shook his head and walked on down the row. Most of the stones were cracked, toppled over at the base, or consumed by the overgrowth of vines and weeds.
"Hey, here's one." Spike pointed down.
"Bobby Tilton."
Xander, who still stood several feet away called back. "Hung as a horse thief in 1856."
Spike studied the boy standing off in the night and wondered how much time he had spent in this forgotten graveyard, and why.
Easing his way forward, Xander finally stood along side the vampire looking down. "So if you're so philosophical about the great demise, how come you've fought it off for so long?"
Spike shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Been wondering' bout that meself lately."
Xander's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had expected denial. He had expected snerk with maybe a touch of disdain thrown in. He would never have imagined honesty. Certainly not with the subtle undertone of sadness.
Xander turned away fom the ancient graves and vampire and walked up the rise to the more modern, well kept section. These were the newly, dearly departed. The ones with family who still came to visit. Visit more often than when they still breathed.
''
Reaching down, Xander snapped off a daisy from a fresh pot of flowers that had been set there just hours before. He turned and tucked it down in the top button hole of Spike's duster, causing the vampire to smile at the totally unexpected gesture.
They stood so close, Spike could smell him. The sweet, rich, heady smell of clean, honest, and pure untainted blood. He smelled of warm oven baked cookies like his mother used to make back in Victorian London. He smelled of youth and life. It almost made Spike want to cry.
Stepping back, Spike intentionally blocked out all things Xander. He had a job to do. He couldn't afford to get attached to a puppy that was on it's way to the pound to be euthanized.
"Come on, boy. It's getting late and we both need to be on our way. Speakin' o which. I'm kinda without a place to crash today. You wouldn't happen to have a spot of floor that a vampire might kip on would ya?"
Xander briefly considered the advisability of having a blood thirsty killer hanging out with him and decided that if he could survive nineteen years under the same roof as Tony Harris, he could live with this.
"Sure, no problem. You don't plan on eating me in my sleep do you?"
Spike chortled. "Hadn't really thought about it. Sides, it's Monday. You're safe as houses."
Xander scratched his head at the riddle of that, but before he could ask, he blew it off as just another one of the vampire's quirky puzzles.
"Insomnia."
"What?"
"You ask what I was doing out here in the middle of the night. I have insomnia and the graveyard sooths me."
Spike nodded. Made sense.
Part Eight
1:50 am Saturday morning. Xander Harris has been dead nearly three hours.
Buffy paced the length of the room which, unfortunately took her only eight steps. She spun around and followed the same path back.
Neither woman had touched or mentioned the body that had now begun cooling and stiffening on the table in the center of the room since Spike had gone.
"How long has it been? It seems like hours. Do you think he made it? Do you think he found Xander?"
Willow had tripped over a small wooden crate that Giles had set in a corner of the room and was using it upside down as a seat to sit and wait. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
"I hope so. I know I did the spell right but it has never been used on a live person. Although Spike isn't exactly alive, he is, you know, moving and stuff. He's only been gone, like, five minutes our time but that could be hours in the past. Anyway, he'll be back here in fifty more minutes. I hope he found something out."
Buffy squatted down and flicked a dust bunny off her pink strap flats. She squished a small brown spider and picked up, then discarded, a dirty bottle cork that was lying on the floor.
She sighed and resumed her walk. After two more passes, she paused and squinted at her companion in the darkness.
"Now how long has it been?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Spike followed Xander several blocks east, turned a corner, and one more south. They came to an area of older run down buildings and approached the first one. It was a three story brick that very nearly crossed the line from apartments to flop house.
The alley that ran the length of the side of the building smelled of urine and if Spike wasn't mistaken, he was sure he had eaten a homeless bloke in a cardboard box there about a month ago.
Spike started up the front steps, watching the chunks of cracked cement crumble under his boots when he heard Xander's voice below him.
"Nuh ha. Down here."
Spike turned and saw the boy duck down a side set of steps to a darkened stairwell that concealed a basement. Following him down he watched as Xander stuck his key in the lock and after wiggling and forcing it, the door swung open. Without hesitation he called back over his shoulder.
"Come in Spike."
So he did. Looking all around, the first thing Spike noticed gratefully was the fact that the windows were high and probably because of the neighborhood, well covered to prevent a would be thief from scoping out the goods. Of which there were none.
The small living room was furnished with second hand furniture consisting of a plaid sofa, a broken down easy chair and a small tv sitting on a stand in the corner. The floor was stark, worn, hard wood with a tattered throw rug covering the center.
There was a limited kitchen area with an antique fridge, a stove and a small round table. Two wooden chairs sat at the sides and Spike wondered if any visitors had been here to break bread with the boy. Did the Slayer and the witch even know this place existed? He could see through an open doorway there was a bedroom and bath.
Similarly decorated.
"Nice place."
Xander tried to evaluate the tone of the vampire's voice for the level of sarcasm but quickly decided it didn't matter.
"Yeah, well, it beats the other basement. At least here I can do as I please. Nobody yells at me. Nobody......... Anyway, it's mine. At least it is if I can find another job before the next month's rent comes due. Furniture might not be much, but that's mine too, so sleep on it without bitchin' or go on your way. Makes me no difference one way or the other."
Xander went to the small kitchen and jerked open the fridge door. He grabbed out two beers and let it slam shut, rattling the remaining contents. Returning to the living room, he handed one to the vampire that still stood in the same spot, and he switched on the tv before dropping down into the easy chair.
Spike took the beer gratefully and sat on the couch. He wasn't sure what his next step should be. His brain fumbled with the questions of why was he here again? What was he supposed to be finding out?
Spike took another swallow and studied the young man. Lonely, unemployed, broke. Did that spell depression? Did that spell suicide by vampire? Somehow he didn't so. Insomnia would explain why he was out there. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was all there was to it. Wrong place at the wrong time.
"What the fuck you staring at?"
Spike was startled out of his contemplation to realize how suspicious he must be acting. Whatever else happened he didn't want to be tossed out now. Not with the sunrise coming. He wondered if he burst into flames here, would he be a goner in the future too? It was all very confusing.
"Huh? Oh, sorry, didn't realize. It's just late is all and I guess I'm getting sort of tired. Creature of the night you know. Sun comes up and the brain shuts down."
Xander nodded and drained the last of his beer. "Yeah, funny thing, I'm suddenly feeling kind of sleepy myself.
Odd, I can't remember the last time I really felt like I wanted to sleep."
Standing and stretching, Xander tugged his shirt off over his head and swiped his under arms with it. Spike's body tingled at the surprised sight of the wonderful body the boy had hidden.
Strong tan arms and chest covered with a fine sprinkling of dark hair that settled in the center of his chest, trailed down over a flat washboard stomach and disappeared into a promise not offered. His baggy jeans rode low, revealing defined hip bones and, oh dear Lord, an outie of a belly button.
This time Xander seemed totally oblivious to Spike's overt interest. He set his empty bottle in the sink and turned his back on his house guest. Before closing the bedroom door, he paused.
"The windows are covered. No light can come in. I don't have any extra blankets or pillows, but I guess if you been sleeping in a crypt, this can't be much worse. You, um, still gonna be here in
the morning?"
Spike nodded. "I'll be here."
Xander seemed to physically relax as he dragged his exhausted body into the bedroom where he dropped his pants and fell into bed. Within minutes Spike could hear the soft repetitive breathing of a human sleeping soundly. He stretched out on the couch and, before he could formulate a plan, he was also snoring quietly.
Part Nine
1:00 pm Monday afternoon. Xander Harris has four and a half days left to live.
Spike woke with a start and bolted to an upright position on the ratty, suspicious smelling plaid sofa. If it hadn't been for the very distinct decor that surrounded him, he might have dismissed the bizarreness of yesterday as too much drink or drugs.
God knows, the psychedelic sixty's had produced some really wild days and nights of LSD trips that he and Dru had enjoyed immensely once they got past the bitter taste of the hippies they were eating.
Spike smiled at the memories of the good times while they lived on the ranch in the California desert. Times that didn't last nearly long enough. Just as they were settling in, that little bitch Charlie Manson had showed up. Between the fact that Dru wanted to fuck him constantly and the annoying tendency he had for attracting unwanted media attention, Spike had had to knock her unconscious and drag her away in the middle of the night.
She had moaned and cried for Charlie for weeks. She always did go for the most disgusting species of demon.
Spike stretched and threw his legs over the side of the couch and on to the cold hard floor. He glanced back toward the bedroom and wondered if he should let the boy sleep or wake him up.
According to his calculations he had about 10 hours left before the giant cosmic elastic waist band snapped him back to the underwear of his own time and place where an impatient witch was waiting for an answer that he really didn't have.
For all he knew there was no answer because, really, there was no question. The boy couldn't sleep, he wandered out where he shouldn't have and he became a giant twinky. A midnight snack for a hungry beasty. Wasn't surprising. The boy looked delicious. Spike took a minute to rub his palm over his cock. It twitched
in reaction.
Course that didn't explain the other. That was most unexpected. Spike frowned. That still didn't answer the puzzle of why the body.......
Spike jumped to his feet and eased silently to the bedroom door. He wanted a peek. A quick look at the sleeping young man who very shortly would be no more than worm food. 'Pity really,' he thought
He quietly pushed the door open just wide enough to stick his face in and satisfy his curiosity. Focusing on the lump of blanket, he was suddenly aware of the fact that there was no sound, no breathing, no heart beat coming from the tiny, bleak room.
Marching in, Spike jerked back the cover to reveal an empty, cold bed. The boy had apparently been gone for some time.
"You looking for me?"
Spike jumped, startled, and spun around to face a cheery, welcoming grin and the smell of fresh, hot coffee.
"What's this then? Where did you go?"
Xander set the Styrofoam cups and the paper sack down on the small kitchen counter.
"When I woke up this morning I felt great. I haven't slept that good in weeks so I thought I'd run down to the Speedway and get some coffee and donuts for us. Got you a bear claw. Get it? A little light humor to start the day."
Spike sat down on one of the wooden chairs at the table and stuck his face in the bag. He had to admit, it did smell like heaven. Not that he would ever know what THAT smelled like.
"Yeah, some humor. Very little and very light. You get the coffee black? Extra strong?"
Xander laughed. "Figured that's what you would want."
Spike lifted his head and sniffed like a beagle searching for a bitch in heat. He smelled something else. Something beyond the aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans and over baked doughy delights.
"I smell the slayer on you. Is that where you went? You tell her I was here with you?"
Xander pulled up his chair and sat down. He popped the plastic lid off his cup and, like a magician, pulled a newspaper out of the seemingly bottomless bag.
"Wow, are we a tad paranoid this morning? She came running in while I was there and wanted a coffee and yogurt to go. I guess I smell like her cause she hugged me before she dashed out. Yeah, I did mention that you were bugging me last night."
Spike's eyes lit up with the memory and he laughed. He remembered the conversation in the cellar. Was it yesterday? Last night? Next week? Who knew.
At the time he would have bet all the money he didn't have that he hadn't seen the boy in weeks, but he had. It was still confusing but Spike thought that he just might be getting the hang of this Doctor Who stuff.
Xander smiled. He had never seen Spike really laugh. He had seen him sneer, smirk, snicker and even snort but never this. Never an honest open laugh. It was wonderful. It was gorgeous. It was infectious. Although he had no idea what the joke was, Xander had to laugh with him.
Xander marveled at the strangeness that was his life. Just when everything seems mundane, boring and sadly predictable, a certain vampire shows up out of nowhere and spends the night.
He had been in such a terrible slump the last year or so. Things at home had gotten intolerable, his friends lives had moved on without him and he seemed to be running on a treadmill. Faster and faster and getting nowhere. More than once he had thought of getting off.
He wanted to blame his lack of ability to hold down a job on the fact that he spent half the night patrolling, or that the injuries from demon fighting caused him to call off once too often, but the truth was he just didn't care.
He didn't care if there were enough Kotex stocked on the shelves, or there was a customer blowing his horn waiting for his gas to be pumped. He didn't care that the last showing at the theatre left tons of garbage on the floors to be cleaned or that valet parkers are docked an hours pay if they accidentally fart in a customers leather seat. He just didn't care.
He wanted something new. Something that would pop up and just surprise the hell out of him. He wanted...........this.
Tipping back on two legs of the chair, Xander propped his feet up on the cheap wooden table. He sipped his coffee, sucked the jelly out of his cream stick and turned the page of his paper.
"So what do you say we go down to Kwik Shake after dark for a burger
and fries then do a bit of patrolling?"
Spike dropped the racing section of the paper. He was deep in the thought process of how to get the winners of the horse races so that the next time he came back he could put a bob or two on the nose of the money maker.
Not that he planned on their being a next time, but if there was............
"What? Patrol? Um, yeah, sure, why not? So, what'cha reading?"
Xander scowled and began drawing circles over several different items, drawing lines through others in a serious, studied way.
"Jobs. Much as I hate to, I'm going to have to find gainful employment before the end of the month. Money doesn't grow on trees, ya know. Although there is a minny wage one here for assistant tree trimmer."
Spike let one side of his mouth twitch up as he went back to the list of nags in todays first race and wondered if Clem was still working runner for the local bookie down at Willy's.
"Nay, it's too nice a day to think about getting a job. Sides, I have a funny feeling you ain't gonna need it anyway. Nope, today does not feel like a work day."
He shook out the page and resumed his studies.
Xander grinned, Spike was right. Today was for fun, relaxation, and possibly a bit of adventure. Scrounging through the other sections, he looked for the funny page and took another bite.
Part Ten
10:00pm Monday evening. Xander Harris had four days left to live.
"Harris, my Boy, I'm about to teach you the fine art and skill of demon tracking."
Xander giggled and stumbled along side the vampire he had just spent a truly interesting day with. After sneaking a peek at him in the shower, Xander had shared the sofa and a long list of soaps and game shows with his unexpected house guest. Every once in a while he would allow his knee to bump Spike's feeling a zing in his half hard cock.
He would never admit it to his girls but he wasn't stupid, or blind, he knew Spike was pure sex and Xander always was a purist.
They watched the same shows he had watched a million times by himself, but with Spike they took on a whole new perspective. The snarky vampire would guess the answers then curse the host when he was wrong. He insulted the contestants, and their parentage, in the most colorful descriptive terms Xander had ever heard.
He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard. It was odd because he always thought the vampire hated him. Well, maybe hate was too strong a term. Perhaps dismissed was more accurate.
The vampire, like most everyone else in Sunnydale, dismissed Xander as unimportant.
Xander dismissed Xander as unimportant.
Today, however, was different. For whatever reason, Spike was here and the two of them were together. Friends? Maybe. Maybe not, but Xander knew one thing for sure. He intended to make the most of it.
They had gone out as soon as the sun went down and using Xander's last $200.00, had headed straight for Willy's to conduct what Spike referred to as prospective high finance. Xander had contented himself with several bottles of Willy's finest piss water while he waited.
By 9:00 pm, Xander was having the time of his life. He had won $50.00 shooting craps with a pair of Dicling demons, line danced to Brad Paisley's latest on an antiquated juke box and just barley escaped with his virtue
intact after a tussle with a six armed Horneytoad.
Luckily, Spike had come from the back room at exactly THAT crucial moment and snatched him out from under the demons fleshy, tubular body, much to the jeers and cheers of the betting audience.
Although he didn't ask, Xander was fairly certain that Spike had gotten the economic answer he was looking for. The vampire's mood was elated and jubilant as he pulled the tipsy human out into the night.
Spike had dragged him at an ungainly pace, to the Restful Home cemetery at the southern edge of town. He had said it would be a great place to start.
"So tell me, Oh Great One, what exactly is the difference between tracking demons and hunting them?"
Spike gave the boy a slight shove with his hand and watched as he tripped, stumbled and finally landed smack down on his ass in the cool, damp, nicely manicured grass of the city's newest grave yard.
When he satisfied himself that he now had the boy's apt attention, Spike clasped his hands behind his back and began thoughtfully pacing back and forth. A move that threatened to increase the uncomfortable spinning the earth under Xander's body was already starting to do.
"Tracking is much more skilled than hunting. The Slayer will simply charge out here and start killing everything that walks on more than two legs, has horns or scales. It's a very indiscriminate and ineffectual method that wastes time slaughtering innocent demons while allowing the deadly ones to escape unnoticed."
Xander was fascinated. He had never seen such a large patch of clover and wondered what the mathematical odds were that he could find at least one four leaf in such a large area. Even with the full moon it was taking a great deal of concentration to separate the intertwined clumps of leaves.
"HARRIS!"
"WHAT?"
Spike crouched down in front of him and took hold of his shoulders, shaking him roughly.
"I'm trying to teach you something here. You have to know what you're doing if you're going to be out here at night. You need to know what to look for and what to avoid. You can't be just runnin' about willy nilly."
Xander snorted. He slapped his hands over his mouth and tried his best to regain his composure but it was just no use. The huge bark of laughter exploded, blowing his fingers off his mouth and he rolled on his side, ignoring the lucky charms that were being flattened beneath him.
"Ha ha ha ha. You said willy nilly. Oh my God! You actually said willy nilly. Do you know how homoerotic that sounds. That's gay my friend. You sounded straight up gay!"
When he realized his pun, Xander hooted even harder. Quickly getting annoyed, Spike squatted down directly in front of the still giggling drunken human. He gripped his shoulders and tried to shake some sense into him.
"Stop it and listen to me, you stupid idiot. This is something you need to know. It is something that may save your life someday..............soon."
Suddenly Xander didn't feel so good. The cheap beer had no resemblance to an expensive martini and did not react the same to being shaken in an enclosed container. "Oooohhhhh, Fuck!"
Spike leaped back in time to miss the projectile vomiting that spewed forth from the pits of Xander's stomach. He watched in dismay as the boy's normal healthy tanned face turned an off shade of pea green and Xander collapsed onto his side, moaning.
"Jesus, fucking Christ! How many bottles of...................."
Before he could complete that thought, Spike felt strange himself. He was light headed and the insides of his body had the odd sensation of being tugged to the outside of his skin. It took only seconds to realize
what was happening to him.
"What time is it? HARRIS! What time is........."
Xander used the last shred of strength he had in his body to squint at his wrist. "It looks like 11:00. Why?" Before waiting for an answer, Xander passed out.
~*~*~*~*~
2:00 am Saturday morning. Xander Harris has been dead three hours.
"Uh, oof, ow,ow, ugh." Spike bounced down, tumbling and striking one or more tender body part on each step till he landed on the cement floor of the small stuffy wine cellar.
Rushing to his side, he was gripped and lifted roughly to his feet by two anxious, frantic females who babbled simultaneously.
"What happened?"
"Did it work? Did you see him?"
"Was he alive?"
"Did you talk to him?"
Spike slapped the grabbing hands away from him and took a moment to compose himself. He adjusted his duster and checked his hair for stray, wayward, strands. He ran his hands up and down his arms, patted his cheeks and finally slid his fingers down the snug waist band of this black jeans. Once he had convinced himself that all was well and every body part that had travelled with him had returned intact, he relaxed.
Walking over to the still, cold body on the wooden table, Spike looked at the face he had just watched puke and smiled. He then spun around and faced his inquisitors happily.
"Yep, saw him, talked to him, bugged him and spent the night. On the couch. Strictly honorable like."
Willow was overwhelmed. and threw her arms around the vampire in a big hug. When she stepped back, he saw the tears in her eyes and heard the crack in her voice.
"How was he?"
Spike shrugged. "Alive."
"What happened Spike? Why did he die? Why was he out there?"
Spike looked at the two hopeful faces and knew he should end this right here. Explain the odds of someone who spent too much time in a grave yard coming to an untimely end. They would accept the diagnosis of insomnia with relief and guilt free gratitude. There would be no reason for him to return.
"Actually, I didn't find out anything. I'm going to have to go back again. I'm not sure I can save him but I have an idea."
Spike almost felt a twinge of guilt when he saw their eyes sparkle with hope but he ignored it and continued.
"Doesn't the watcher usually keep about a weeks worth of newspapers before tossing them out?"
Buffy glanced up the steps and frowned. "Yeah, I think so. Why? What the hell do you need a paper for?"
Spike held up his hand. "Nope, not ready to discuss it yet. Besides it's just an idea and might not work. Wouldn't want to get your hopes up. Just be a love and run up there. I need Wednesday's and Thursday's papers. Go on chop chop, times a wastin'"
Buffy hurried to do as she was told. When she returned, he flipped through, tore out the sections he needed and tucked them in the inside breast pocket of his coat. He then reached into the velvet pouch and pulled out another marble.
"See ya shortly."
With a big grin on his face, Spike slammed the glass orb to the floor. The women had only a fraction of a second to cover their eyes before the blinding light exploded in the room.
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