5 Days More
by
BmblBee
Part Twenty-One
8:00 pm Wednesday evening. Xander Harris has 2 days left to live.
Following Xander's accurate and explicit directions, Spike had steered Xander's Chevy to the eastern edge of town, down a side road, and onto a winding dirt path that cut a narrow swatch through a thicket of trees.
It was an area that appeared to be suffering years of neglect and abandonment. The contradiction to that impression was the small cloud of dust that never had the chance to fully settle before the next speeding vehicle, anxious to arrive, stirred it up again.
When they finally cleared the patch of jungle like overgrowth the contrast was startling. Off in the distance was a ramshackle
building surrounded on all sides by a huge gravel covered parking lot packed bumper to bumper with every kind of car from
Lexus to Geo Metro.
The lot was an untended area spotted by patches of weeds and trash. Tossed sacks of McDonalds garbage and emptied
ash trays. It was the sort of lot whose only cleaning was a once a month hose down that no one much noticed anyway considering the lack of lights. Out of sight, out of mind appeared to be the environmental motto.
The building, on the other hand was the focal point. It was vitality itself and its approach infused energy by it's pounding music and sounds of life and laughter. It drew you in, offering the promise of untold adventure and limitless possibilities.
There was no sign or placard announcing the name of the establishment. It wasn't needed. If you found your way here, you already knew where you were. It was a destination that wasn't stumbled upon accidentally.
Wedging into one of the last empty spots on the lot, Spike shut off the engine and cocked his head, looking sideways at his passenger. "I thought you said you had never been here, Pet."
Xander avoided Spike's direct gaze and shrugged sheepishly. "Well, actually I haven't. I looked it up on the internet, Googled the directions, and drove out here a couple times early in the day when they were closed. I never had the nerve to come back at night."
He immediately leaned over and gave Spike a peck on the lips. "Come on. We're wasting time. Let's go!"
With a near vampire speed, Xander was out of the car and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Any hope Spike had of maintaining his usual aloofness and facade of boredom was dashed when his boy grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the center of the gay universe otherwise known as The Belt Buckle.
Immediately inside the creaking wooden door sat a huge Rectol demon. Often hired as bouncers because of their size, Spike had spent some time with a small nest of them. Their duel arse holes had made them very interesting company. Eventually he'd had to move on though. Even a master vampire only has so much stamina. He heard that Angel had stayed for another month or more.
"Hold it! I'm the security. Name's Gemini." The Rectol hopped down off his stool and stepped up to Xander. Spike braced himself, prepared to fight for what was his.
Xander, on the other hand was simply annoyed with the delay. He could see into the club, feel the throbbing music as it rocked his body and smell the heat of sweating flesh, beer, and smoke. Cigarettes as well as weed. It was more than he had ever imagined.
Leaning forward, the Rectol sniffed Xander, twitching his nose like a frightened rabbit.
"Human, twenty-one years old, sober, anal virgin." Gemini's eyes snapped over to Spike as he continued snuffling
Xander's chest. "Unclaimed. Unbitten."
He then stepped back, allowing his eyes to give Spike the exaggerated up and down. The word 'unclaimed' had caught Xander's attention and he too waited to see what Spike's response would be.
"Vampire. You bring an unclaimed human in here? We don't want no trouble."
Spike grabbed Xander's arm and tugged him away from the demon's nasal inspection, wrapping his arm around his boy's waist possessively.
"None of your business is it? We're here for a bit o' dancin' and a coupla beers all nice and legit. Now, you got a cover let me know what it is. If not, piss off."
Gemini stepped back and just as quickly as he had hopped off, jumped back up on his stool, tipping his head toward the center of the club. "I'll be watchin' you two."
It was an implied threat that fell on deaf ears. Xander had already rushed in, Spike right on his heels. Skidding to a stop by the bar, Xander studied the room intently. It was spectacular!
Men dancing, groping, kissing and drinking together. The few women who were there were, for the most part, large, masculine, and by Xander's estimation, had twice the testosterone flowing through their veins as he did.
The general theme appeared to be redneck, although there was also a fair amount of leather daddies, drag queens and one or two business types who looked like they had no idea what sort of bar they had innocently stumbled into.
"Beer, Love?"
Xander nodded. The band had just finished taking a break and were setting up for their next set. The stage was small, one step up separated it from the worn planks of the hard wood dance floor where small groups of men stood and milled about waiting.
Spike tipped up his bottle, swallowing half his beer and waiting while the cold American piss water beer hit his system. He then took the time to make his own assessment of the crowd.
Mostly human. One or two demons, nonlethal ones, no other vampires. Drugs, anal sex, beer, urine and pheromones. Spike smiled.
Leaning toward Xander's ear, whatever he was going to say was cut off by the opening chords of the bands guitars. The lead singer stepped up to the microphone and shouted to an eager crowd.
"Are you ready?"
Every one cheered.
"NO. I SAID ARE YOU READY?"
The club exploded into shouts of "YES!"
"O.k. then. Hit the floor, Boys and Girls. It's Electric Slide time!"
Spike's brow first crinkled in confusion then shot straight up as he looked into the thrilled face of his pet. Xander was whooping and punching the air in a way that left no doubt that he knew exactly what the band had proposed.
The rush of men toward the dance floor startled Spike and, much to his dismay, Xander's hand slipped from his as he lost contact with his boy. Gulping the last of his drink, Spike slammed the empty bottle down on the bar and pushed his way through the mob of spectators to the edge of the dance floor.
What he saw there flustered and dumbfounded him. There were four lines of men, ten men in each line. They all moved in exact synchronicity to the twangy, catchy music. Second from the end, line one, was his boy, his Xander.
Spike laughed at the look of pure glee on his boy's face as he kicked, clapped, dipped and turned perfectly along with the rest. When Xander saw Spike, he waved his hand dramatically.
"Come on, Spike. Come on."
All eyes turned to Spike. Some leered, some cheered, all encouraged the vampire to give it a go. Spike was very reluctant. Although he prided himself on his sexual, cat like ability to move, the sequence of regimented movements seemed complicated and fast paced.
Unfortunately, he did the one thing he shouldn't have. He looked directly into the hypnotic, deep, dark eyes of the boy he
had formed a confusing attachment to and was inexplicably drawn to step forward.
Thrilled, Xander grabbed his hand and pulled the vampire to stand in the line next to him.
"Just watch my feet. It's simple. Right, right, left, left, back dip dip back, dip, turn and do it all again.'
"Huh?"
Spike had stood stock still while Xander and the grinning loon of a man next to him continued their stomping, clapping and sliding. Finally, Spike decided he would not be defeated by something as simple as a repetitious dance step. He vaguely remembered biting Ginger Rogers once at a Hollywood party back in the 1950's and hoped some of it stayed with him.
On the next turn of face front, Spike clapped his hands in time with Xander and took a step forward, stomping his Doc Martin on the saw dust covered dance floor. Giving it all the gusto he had, Spike threw himself into the dance.
Unfortunately, he had not watched as closely as he should. When the back three lines moved to the left, Spike lurched to the right. Spike, along with the eight men beside him tumbled to the floor, crashing one after the other in a domino effect.
The pile of red plaid flannel and cowboy boots tumbled and flailed about as if they had been playing a rousing game of Twister. The rest of the dancers stopped and, laughing, attempted to untangle and pull friends and acquaintances from the floor.
Some were also jerked off their feet and before long the whooping and shouting turned to sounds of grunting, rutting, and heated moaning. Spike extricated himself from the groping clutches of human fingers and crawled rapidly, on his hands and knees toward the outside rim of the dance floor.
Suddenly, his way was blocked by a pair of size sixteen black, steel toed shit stompers. Spike froze and let his eyes creep up the legs, pants, chest and stopped when they reached angry scowl of Gemini's face.
Immediately, Xander, who was still laughing so hard the tears were running down his face, interceded, pulling Spike to his feet.
"Sorry. We're sorry. I promise, no more problems. You won't even know we're here."
Xander held up two fingers to his forehead in the boy scout oath.
Gemini huffed in disgust and went about the task of stopping the activity on the floor before any more pants came off. He rolled his eyes as he mumbled under his breath.
"Fucking vampires and their unclaimed humans."
Part Twenty-Two
9:30 pm Wednesday evening. Xander Harris has 2 days left to live.
It didn't take long for Spike and Xander to realize the 'Electric Slide incident', as it would be known, was not all that unusual an occurrence at the Belt Buckle bar.
In fact, as the night went on, Gemini was kept busy with a variety of drunken fights, naked men shaking their goods while they danced on the bar and table tops, and the ongoing challenge of catching and stopping the flow of sexual activity that spontaneously cropped up in every corner of the tavern.
When the band's music had taken on a more rock based tone and the dancing on the floor a more recognizable form, Spike and Xander had ventured back out to give it another go.
For years, Spike had watched the boy stumble, bumble and fumble his way around the activity of the Slayer. Usually causing her to interrupt her demon fighting long enough to save his arse. He often wondered why she even let him tag along.
He would have asked, but at the time, didn't care.
Now, watching him roll and sway to the rhythm it was hard to believe it was the same person. Fucking Xander Harris was sexy as hell on a dance floor.
Spike scowled. Damn Watcher could have taught the boy a lot. Could have shown him how much fighting was like dancing.
Could have saved his...................no! Spike refused to think about the coming days.
Three beers a piece and they were back out in the middle of a very forgiving crowd. As soon as Spike had started to move, Xander's hips picked up the matching movement and they had humped, bumped and grinded their way to a pair of hard leaking erections that screamed for release.
Making the situation worse was a mob of overheated men who all seemed very comfortable with the acts of touching and being touched in the most private places.
It made someone as possessive as Spike exceedingly unsettled.While he rather enjoyed the anonymous hands that groped
his back, crotch, and chest, it incensed him to see the same being done to his boy.
His boy. Spike shook his head. At what point had he even begun to think on those terms? No one knew better than him how inadvisable that was. He was setting himself up for a crushing fall. He didn't care.
By 10:30 the music had slowed down as the band prepared to take another break. Xander started to walk off the floor when Spike grabbed his hand and pulled him back. He tugged Xander's body around and gently wrapped his arm around his boy's waist, taking hold of his other hand, Spike swept them round and round.
Laughing, Xander went happily along till finally they slowed and began to slightly move as their bodies felt the emotion of the music. Slow, sweet, romantic.Xander felt light headed and giddy. He had no idea what had set in motion the events of the last couple days but he was smart enough not to ask.
'Just goes to show' he thought with a smile. 'When you think your life has nothing left, life can still serve up a surprise of two.'
Holding Spike tightly, Xander nuzzled his neck, humming along with the sad, sweet song the lead singer was pouring all his emotion into. Spike tipped his face up to kiss the warm, pillowy soft lips, then laid his head back down on Xander's shoulder.
In his one hundred and twenty years of walking the earth, amidst all the bloodshed, death, and mayhem, he had sought this above all else. Someone to hold him. Strong loving arms to surround him. He had tried to find it in Angelus but the psychotic vampire was more interested in flogging the new childe than loving him.
He had tried to coax it from Angel, but the souled one was more interested in flogging himself, relishing the pain of self served retribution, claiming he had no right to happiness. It had quickly become tedious.
He had it for a short time with Dru, his dark princess, before she slipped into madness. Her mind couldn't call up the past, her past, when she was still warm, breathing, and in need of human compassion. Angelus had robbed her of all sanity and memory. He was the thief that deprived Spike of Dru's ability to love.
Foolishly, he had tried to force affection on Buffy. It was his biggest mistake. She would never see him as anything other than what he was. A vampire. A creature of death in the night. A one time hard cock in the alley behind the Magic Box.
The next day she had claimed she was drunk and remembered nothing about the night before. He knew better. He could see the shame and humiliation in her eyes, along with the implied threat if he ever told. He never did. Not out of fear but sadness and defeat.
And now here he was. Held, kissed, wanted for who he was. And he could have had it all along. It was right under his nose
the whole time and he had never seen it. Not till a wish foolishly made on the hell mouth had given him the happiness he always craved only to snatch it away.
Maybe not. Spike pulled back marginally and looked into the young, handsome face of his pet. He had made a second wish, he reminded himself. A wish to give Xander a long life filled with love. There was no way the cruel fates of the universe could pervert that wish.
Xander opened his eyes and smiled. "What are you looking at?"
Spike chuckled. "Just the best looking bloke in the room. Don't you find all this a bit strange, love? I mean you haven't once questioned why one day you and I seemed to hate each other and now here we are, all cozy and cuddly. Bit odd innit?"
Xander shrugged. "Gift horse and mouth, Spike. These have been the best couple days of my life. A puppy is a wonderful thing. If you cut it open and take it apart to try to figure out what makes it so special you kinda ruin it. Best thing to do is feed it, nurture it, love it and encourage it to grow. You're my puppy Spike."
Spike swore his dead heart had tried to beat and he quickly laid his head back down. He was too choked up to respond. If he could have, he would have said that 'puppy' was the nicest title he had ever been given.
Xander kissed the side of Spike's face telling him he understood. Together they continued to move to the melancholy tune of lost love and they held on tight.
All evening, Xander had noticed men, some in two's, three's groups, or alone, slipping off toward the back room of the small shabby building. At first he thought they were going to the restroom to piss out a beer or snort up some coke or poppers.
It wasn't until a few minutes ago, when he had to drop off a few beers of his own that he realized the bathrooms were at the other end of the dance floor. Now, as he glanced around, he saw the stream of activity had continued.
"Spike?' He leaned down and nipped the vampires ear as he whispered into it.
Spike shuddered as the feel of the warm breath brushed his skin. "Hmm?"
"What's back there?"
Spike looked in the direction Xander indicated then laid his face back down on the human's shoulder.
"Prolly a back room. You know where they go to fuck, watch people fuck or just jack off."
The heart pressed against his cooler body suddenly kicked up several notches, pounding so hard he could feel it's movement vibrating through his own dead one. Xander's lungs filled with air as his breathing came in quick ragged breaths and his body temperature shot through the roof.
Spike stepped back. "You like that? You interested in taking a walk for a bit of a lookie see?"
Spike laughed at the shocked, bug eyed face of his innocent boy, his face snapping back and forth from Spike's face to the area of the darkened doorway. Spike was afraid for a moment that Xander might just pass out from hyperventilation.
Gradually, Spike took the lead and slow danced them across the small floor, weaving around the men who had stopped moving and were passionately embracing and kissing.
Eventually they stopped. The unmistakable smell of sweat and spent seed drifted outward, settling in the tiny hairs of the lining of Xander's nose. It should have repulsed him. It should have disgusted him. Xander was intrigued.
Spike tipped up his chin. "What say, Pet? Have a walk about?"
Part Twenty-Three
10:40 pm Wednesday evening. Xander Harris has 2 days left to live.
Xander held back with Spike pressed close to his side. He had been watching the men come and go through the darkened
doorway all evening not knowing what they were doing.
Peering in, he could see nothing but dark. It had been designed to prevent the interior's activities from being visible to anyone passing by, laid out in a maze-like configuration.
Two steps forward ended in a wall with a hallway leading off to the left. Every few feet it widened into areas, not large enough to be called rooms, but with enough space to allow bending, kneeling, and a variety of contortions limited only by imagination.
Although dark, the lack of doors did nothing to restrict the other senses from knowing what was happening just out of sight.
The cloud of sex drenched sweat floated out, assaulting their noses.
Xander crinkled. It was strong, pungent and overwhelming. The odor of dozens of men perspiring, spending their seed and
smoking dope was overwhelming. Spike's demon sizzled. In addition to the semen it also detected the smell of blood from small rectal tears. Spike arched forward. His demon longed to slink around the darkened archway. His cock was hard and ready. His fangs itched to drop.
The sounds of the music, drinking and dancing behind them almost, but not completely, blocked out the muffled moans, groans and voices of the men inside. Someone was begging almost painfully, another voice chuckled. Most were indiscernible in word but crystal clear in meaning.
The smell was maddening and he fought to restrain himself. He put his arm around Xander's shoulders and tugged him away
hanging onto his last shred of restraint..
"Let's go, Xander. I think we need to leave."
"Don't you want to go in?"
Spike was surprised to hear the breathless tone in his boy's voice. The shocked, disgusted, longing. The curiosity and insecurity.
Spike took only a second to think. He had promised himself to help Xander experience as much life as he could in the time he had left. If Xander wanted to go in, then, by God, they'd do it.
Spike's hand slid down Xander's arm and stopped as he clasped their finger's together. He could smell the shame and arousal that poured from the boy. His eyes glanced down and saw the slight twitch in Xander's rock hard cock. Spike grinned evilly and tugged his hand leading them into the darkness.
Spike led the way. He had been in hundreds of these back rooms over the years from the turn of the century London to small town America and found that they were all much the same. Sex is sex. Nothing new under the sun.
Around the first bend, they came across a cowboy type, pants round his ankles and twink at his feet. The small dim night light gave just enough illumination to shine off Tex's wet, long cock as it slid in and out of the
boy's soft pink lips. Tex smiled and nodded congenially as they squeezed by in the tight space.
Xander gasped and tightened his grip on Spike's hand. He could feel the heated rush of his simmering blood as it coursed through his body and pooled in his cock. The very wrongness of it was so erotic, Xander wanted to hide in a corner and jack off. His need for release had never felt so urgent.
As the hallway again narrowed, it also darkened and they had to run their hands along the cool plaster, walking single file. It reminded Xander of the carnival spook house he used to go in as a kid. A fun house. The name struck him as outrageously funny and he giggled nervously.
The walls, also painted black added to the visual impairment, at least for a human. It may have been frightening if the glow of another dimly lighted area wasn't just a few feet ahead offering the promise of another, larger area. This one, by the number of sounds, was assumed to be the main room. Spike put his hands on Xander's hips and steered him forward. The minute they stepped in, Xander jumped back, bumping into the vampire behind him.
There was at least eight men already in the room, all engaged in different acts of sexual activity. Some talked calmly to each other as they fucked their partner or had their cocks sucked enthusiastically. Most were naked from the waist down and all were comfortable with their exposure.
Xander moaned. He had never thought of himself as voyeuristic or an exhibitionist, but right now he knew he could be both.
Spike leaned forward pressing his hands against the boy's straining cock and he whispered in his ear.
"Do you want me to take you out? Let them see all that sweet cock that you have? Are you hard Xander? Do you want to cum while all these men watch you?"
Xander's brain was scrambled. It was hard to hear and understand what Spike was saying. The buzzing in his ears was loud, he felt lightheaded and woozy. Part of him wanted to run back to the safety of his apartment, most of him wanted what Spike was saying. Jack him off. Suck him, ram his cock in Xander's untouched hole. He wanted everything. He wanted it all. And he wanted to be watched.
The man next to them was slowly sliding his long, thick cock in and out of a young, feminine looking boy. The boy was older than he appeared but knew an asset when he had it and played the innocent angle for all he could.
He whimpered each time the cock shoved in, opening the tender hole even wider. He made small mewling sounds of pain that shot straight to Xander's cock making it leak and swell even more.
Tex rested his head on the boys back. "Is Daddy hurting you, Baby? Is Daddy's big cock tearing his Baby's
hole?"
"It hurts Daddy. It's too big. Please take it out."
"Baby likes it to hurt, don't you? Look how hard Baby's cock is. Go on, Baby, Pull on yourself. Daddy wants to feel your sweet little hole squeeze me when you cum."
Xander leaned back against the wall and threw his head back, his arms hung limply at his sides. He was only slightly aware of Spike unzipping his pants, startled when the cool air hit the wet tip of his overheated cock. "Holy Sweet Jesus."
"Shhh, Xander. I'm here. I'll take care of you."
When he had met with no resistance, Spike tugged both their pants off and slid himself between Xander and the cold, cement block wall. Xander's attention was still locked on the couple beside him and not on the tall, thin black man who was easing over, his cock in his hand.
Xander unconsciously reached for himself, surprised and grateful to find Spike's hand already there. He leaned back against his vampire and the feel of the hard, cool cock that was sliding up and down in the crack of his ass.
It was an action so full of fear and promise that it was nearly Xander's undoing. Lowering himself to his knees, the black man looked past Xander to the possessive yellow eyed vampire behind him, reassured when the vampire nodded and smiled.
Xander's body lurched forward with shock as the warm suction latched onto him and began working his cock as the strange fingers probed hisballs and behind.
Spike pressed himself against the amazing heat of his sexually charged human. He watched the stranger masturbate himself as he sucked and licked Xander's cock. Each time he pulled his mouth away, long sticky while strings of precum linked the brown heavy lips to his boys leaking cock.
Spike sniffed Xander's clean soft hair. He ran his cool tongue up between his boy's shoulder blades and watched the goose bumps as they sprang in his wake. He could smell the blood, so near the surface and hear the heart that sounded is if it were only seconds away from exploding. He wanted to bite him almost more than he wanted to fuck him.
Spike humped faster, his cock sliding in a wet mess of his own early spend between the cheeks of the soft swell of Xander's ass, down to bump against the balls and up to the small of his boy's back.
Reaching around, Spike put his hands on the strangers face, holding his head firmly and encouraging Xander to fuck the warm mouth, in turn humping back bringing glorious friction to Spike's own erection.
All three men were rapidly approaching heaven together. Xander put his hands over Spike's and fucked the stranger's mouth as fast and hard as he could, the sounds of gagging spurring him on nudging him up a notch to frantic. He felt the burn in his balls as his spine sparked with electricity down to his toes.
Knowing Xander was almost there, Spike stepped back and grabbed his own cock tightly, stripping himself roughly. Within seconds he grabbed Xander's shoulder and squirted wet spurts of cum onto his boy's back. Spike watched as it dribbled down between the firm round cheeks and dripped onto the stained, crusty floor.
When Xander felt the cool cum run over his twitchy, empty hole, it was his undoing. The heaviness in his sac rushed up and out his cock, straight down the stranger's throat where it was greedily swallowed.
The orgasm that slammed through him felt as though it could go on forever. Wave after wave of pleasure flushed his body with a euphoric buzz that he rode, all cares of where he was forgotten. The other occupants of the room watched, sharing in the sight, moaning and whispering their approval. When it finally slowed, he slumped weakly against his vampire on shaky legs.
His body had lost it's ability for muscle coordination, forcing Spike to do all the work in getting them both dressed. He wanted to thank the friendly black man but noticed he had already wandered away and was lowering himself in front of another waiting cock.
It was just as well. He had no idea what kind of wording went in to a thank you card for such an occassion.
Suddenly Spike felt his own body start to tingle, not in a good way. He hustled them both back out to the bar and sat Xander down on a stool.
"Listen, Xan, pay attention. I have to go. I'm sorry. I'll come by your place around 3. I want you to drink some coffee, then go straight there and wait for me. Do you hear?"
Xander nodded weakly. He watched as Spike paid for a pot of coffee and heard him threaten the bartender if anything happened. Just as he was about to protest, Spike was gone.
Xander looked all around. It was as if the vampire had just vanished. Xander sighed and picked up the first cup
Part Twenty-Four
3:55 am Saturday morning. Xander Harris has been dead nearly 5 hours.
Buffy had gently pulled the bedroom door closed, more out of respect than necessity. The fact was, she could have slammed it or even ripped it off it's hinges, and the man passed out on the bed would never have roused.
Slowly and sadly she descended down the steps toward the small living room. Her thoughts kept forming one odd realization. 'Giles was human.'
Of course she knew it. She had always known it. She had seen him bleed, she had seen him laugh and cry. She had even seen him on the hood of a police car with her Mother in a cookie-spell induced incident that she thought she had been able to mentally banish from the corner of her brain.
She knew he had quirks and annoying habits and she knew he had a past. She just didn't care enough about it to ever ask. If it didn't directly relate to her, why should she?
Her Mother had told her once that people who eavesdrop never hear good about themselves. 'Well' she thought. 'I guess that also can be twisted around to say that people who snoop never like what they find.'
Reaching the bottom , she wandered over to the sofa. She had spent so much time here. Snacking, studying, researching, yet now in the dim moonlit room of this stranger, it was foreign.
She ran her hand over the raised back. Had it always felt this soft and worn? Wasn't it green? She didn't remember it being midnight blue.
Folded over the arm, was a grey, knit throw, one she had, more than once tossed over her legs on a cool evening. Dropping
down heavily on the end of the couch, Buffy picked up the throw and held it to her face, inhaling deeply.
It smelled of Giles, her Watcher, her friend, the man who had been her Father for the past five years. The man she apparently didn't know at all. Buffy rolled the warm throw up in her arms and thought about taking it back downstairs.
Back down where her other friends were. The other two people in her life that she really knew nothing about. Who were they before she came to town and ripped their lives apart? What were their hopes and dreams?
A single tear ran down her face when she remembered Xander had no more hopes and dreams. Thanks to her dragging him into her world of demons, vampires, blood and death, he now had nothing.
Buffy curled up on the couch. She pulled her knees up to her chest and covered herself in the comforting smell of Giles after shave. She just couldn't do it. She couldn't make herself go back down there and look into the face of recrimination. The silent, dead face of an innocent boy. A boy she had killed as surely as if she had plunged a knife into his heart.
She was so tired. So bone deep, hair aching, toe limp tired. Maybe if she just laid down for a few minutes. She still had time
before Spike returned. Buffy sighed and within minutes, feel asleep.
The air in the cellar whomped with the percussion and ear splitting boom of a low flying jet breaking the sound barrier.
The expensive bottles of wine on the shelves clanked and clattered as the energy vibration rippled through the air startling Willow instantly awake.
Her eyes popped open and focused on the movement at the top of the stairs. The dark shadow this time didn't fall or stumble. He swept slowly and purposefully down, gliding so gracefully she wondered if he wasn't floating just inches above the ground.
Some little voice inside her told her to hold still. It whispered "Shhh" In her ear and she waited and watched. He made no sound. No breathing, his heavy boots left no impression in the dust of the floor.
Silently, Spike moved past her. He disregarded her presence as irrelevant. She was nothing more than the wine that lined the
walls or the wooden bucket she sat on.
He moved directly to the still, vacant shell that was, just moments ago his friend. If circumstances had been different, his term for Xander would have been considerably more. Best mate? Lover? All that and the one thing Spike had craved his entire existence. Companion.
He stood by the side of the body and just stared down on him. He had seen this boy on the fringes for the last five years and never once really looked at him. He had been held in disdain, mocked, and worst, ignored. If only he had known.
Spike ran his hand over Xander's face and cringed at the cold, hard waxy skin. How was it possible? Just minutes ago he has kissed those soft, warm lips. He had held the body against him, listened to the heart slamming against his ribcage, smelled the fresh, sweet blood as it flooded the veins and arteries.
Spike ran his hand down Xander's chest, brushing over the permanently limp cock that he had held in his hand earlier in the evening. Spike tipped his head to the side. Death was an everyday occurrence. An easy slipping from one world to another. Sometimes back again.
It was so complicatingly simple, yet this time, so confusing. How can Xander be the very definition of life one minute and then dead as a door nail the next. It was a yo yo trick that could put walking the dog to shame.
Where did Xander's spark go as Spike bounced back and forth through the little window of time? There must be some way? Some way to drag the live Xander from earlier forward and send the dead one back. Spike scratched his head and let his thought pattern follow it's path.
He circled the table and the motionless body and tried to rationalize how that would work. If he sent the dead Xander back to Thursday, wouldn't he still be dead on Saturday? Would he just be hastening the boy's demise by two days?
'Fuck!' Spike was afraid his brain would blow a fuse from the energy drain the extreme thinking was causing.
Willow never took her eyes off the shadow of the man in the room. The thought that, out of the three of them, she was the only one alive struck her as odd but not overly so. It was the normalcy of her life.
She blinked. She had never seen Spike this intently focused on anyone other than himself. Not even Buffy, who he had professed his intense urges for. No one took him seriously. Not Buffy, and in Willow's mind, not even Spike.
It was pretty much accepted that Spike felt it was expected of him to want to bed Buffy. She was the nearest thing to his equal. He made leering faces, suggestive comments, and unlimited R rated offers, requests and sometimes even threats. The day really wouldn't be complete without them.
But this was different. This was an unwavering inspection. This was a long lost friend that shows up at your funeral and stares into the coffin, unable to connect the thing in the box with the living, breathing, person they used to know. Willow wondered what the hell was happening back there.
Spike gazed at the slack face . It was pale as the blood, no longer circulating, was now gone, removed from the body. He brushed the backs of his fingers over the unmoving cheeks and noticed the stubble of a two day growth.
Two days. Time was running out and Xander had two days left unless Spike could stop it, and as of now, he hadn't a clue.
Maybe it would be better if he didn't go back at all. Maybe nothing could be changed and he was just torturing himself
and offering the girls a false hope..
Still......there was one thing that was still too confusing to ignore. Spike leaned down and sniffed the ugly, deep wounds on the side of Xander's neck. He held his breath and touched them with his tongue, gasping when the taste reached him
It was the one part of the puzzle he couldn't go through life without having the answer to and for that he would have to go back. If he couldn't stop it, he had to at least understand how it happened.
Willow quietly unfolded her legs and let her feet lightly touch the floor. She turned her body toward the center of the room and slowly stood up.
"What's happening Spike? What is Xander doing back there?"
Spike's voice was low, quiet, and respectful. The raw, cockney street accent faded away and the dignified tone of a young William revealed his true self.
"He's living, Pet. He's living."
Part Twenty-Five
3:00 am Thursday morning. Xander Harris has two days left to live.
Spike had landed back in the cemetery with very little fanfare. He started the walk back to Xander's like a homing pigeon.
This had always been his favorite time of night. Late enough that the rowdy, the drunk and adventurous young were finally off the streets, back home and tucked in safely, those were the ones who were loved. Those were the ones who were best not eaten. Those were the humans who would be missed.
What was left were the homeless, the destitute, the druggies and the hardcore criminals looking for one more house to rob. One more victim to rape and terrorize. One more all night convenience store clerk to kill all in the hopes of pocketing a few more dollars to buy the edge off a gut wrenching craving.
Those were the ones Spike had on the menu. Fair game. A late supper of take away if they tried to run. It was strictly business. Nothing personal. His days of rolling in the innards, of wearing the intestines like a neck tie, of picking his teeth with a shard of bone, that was over.
That was the type of thing a fledge or a new childe did but it sullied the dignity of a master vampire. Spike preferred to think of himself in better terms than that. Terms like benevolent. He was doing society a service. One that he often thought he should be compensated for, but humanity seldom acknowledged the stark realities. Bats get credit for eating the annoying mosquito but isn't his elimination of the vicious predator the same thing? Where is his thank you card and bouquet of roses?
Where was his pat on the back?
"Fuckin' ungrateful humans." Spike muttered under his breath as he turned the corner and trotted down the short stairway to the basement flat that felt very much like home. After quickly picking the lock he slipped inside and hastened to drop his
clothes in a path from the door to the bed.
Although his logical mind told him nothing could happen to the boy just yet, it still gave him a feeling of great relief to see that he had made it home safely and was now snoring, snug as a bug in a rug.
Naked, Spike slid into the small bed. Xander slept on his side facing the wall and Spike pressed himself to the boy's back. Instantly, Xander squirmed, his body seeking contact with the vampire's cool skin.
Spike smiled, rubbing his nose in the back of the soft brown hair and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Xander's mind slowly let go of the bizarre dream world he was floating through. Strange, disjointed stories of men with cheese and movie stars who begged him for his body. Johnny Depp was so persistent. Somewhere in all that, he could vaguely recall a disembodied voice telling him he was going to die and cackling with laughter.
As he came awake, the splitting headache and the presence of a small dead lemur in his mouth told him he had gotten drunk, too drunk and now would have to pay.
The memory of what he had done in the back room of the club was slow in returning but when he rolled over and realized he was not alone, it all rushed back, flooding his brain with a tsunami of wrong, dirty, bad, OH YES, memories. Memories that involved group sex and Spike. His cock twitched.
Xander blinked and rubbed his fists over his eyes. The only question he could formulate in his painful head was, 'Whose life am I living? Cause this sure ain't the Xander Harris of the past twenty years.'
Looking down, Xander stared into the sleeping face of his vampire. He looked so innocent and surprisingly young. He wondered just how old Spike had been when Dru literally sucked the life out of him. It was a curiosity, but to be honest, it wasn't the main question that was crawling around inside Xander.
No, that conundrum was 'what the fuck was happening? Why was Spike here?' As much as Xander had tried not to think about it, the greasy questions oozed in. Up until three days ago, Spike wouldn't have given him the time of day, now here he was, plastered to his side and with him almost 24/7. Why?
Finally, unable to find an answer that made sense, Xander came to a conclusion he could live with. The vampire was bored and, for now, Xander was his distraction. Before long, he would lose interest in the tiresome human and move on. It was an inevitability that Xander found overwhelmingly depressing. One he would not dwell on.
No, Spike was here now and if his time with him was limited, Xander resolved to make every minute count. Pack as much life into his Spike-time as he could. With that promise, Xander leaned over and kissed the pale small mouth of the murderous cuddle bear by his side.
Spike squinted one eye open and smiled. "Morning, Love. What time is it?"
"I don't know, around noon or one I guess. What time did you get in?"
Spike took a chance that the boy had gotten home and in bed as instructed. "Round midnight. You were already asleep. Doesn't take much to get you drunk does it? Baby like you needs to stick to Mother's milk."
Xander frowned at the taunting, laughing vampire. "I don't drink cause it upsets my stomach. It always....." Xander blinked, then burped. "Ooo! It's started already. Oooo. Spike! My stomach!"
Spike stopped laughing and became alarmed at the sight of his boy holding his arms over his belly. His knees pulled up to his chest and he rolled about the cramped small bed. Spike could hear the human's intestines grumbling, as his face turned
red and scrunched up into a pain ridden scowl.
"Xan? Jesus, Xan you o.k? What can I do?"
"You really want to help me?"
Spike's head nodded up and down at the sad, pathetic whine in his boy's voice. Using all the effort he could call up, Xander rolled over, facing the wall.
"Can you rub my back for a little while till the cramps go away?" Immediately, Spike began massaging and running his hands all over Xander's strong, tan back. He could feel the tension in the muscles between the shoulder blades.
"That's nice but there is something else that would make me feel a lot better."
"What, Pet? What would make you feel better?"
"BBBBRRRRRAAAAAAKKKKKK"
Xander canted his hips up and with a snicker, let loose with a fart that would peel paint.
"AAAHHH!! God damn you! That was just fuckin' disgusting!"
Spike's anger quickly morphed to humor. How could he be pissed off at the twinkle in his boy's eyes and the evil grin on his face? Instead, he decided to accept the challenge and he dropped to game face.
"Ha, you cheeky little bastard. I don't need to breath. Do your fuckin' worst. You can't hurt me."
Xander was delighted. It was the double dog dare of vampires. It was a statement that demanded answer. He immediately rolled over on top the vicious, blood thirst killer, pinning his wrists to the bed, his face just inches from the snarling fangs.
BBRRAAKK. BBRRAAKK
"This is not something you want to test me on, Spike."
BRAK BRAK BRAK!!!
"I've lived my whole life smelling this. I can hold out longer than you."
BRAK BRA....... sputter...sputter.
Spike squirmed, giving the illusion of being unable to get away. Both men knew he could end this game at any time, tossing the human off him like a feather in the wind. Foul, rancid, toxic wind.
"Ha! You're running out of ammunition! I win, you disgusting little shit, which is probably what you did. Best check your drawers for turd, Pet."
Xander frowned. He wasn't used to losing. He hated losing. Pulling back slightly, Xander loosened his hands.
"Well, I guess you win. I was......I was.......RELOADING!!!""
BBBBRRRAAAAKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Spike eyes bugged at the powerful new assault. His game face melted off as if sprayed with hydrochloric acid leaving only the vulnerable human face of a struggling, suffering prisoner strapped into a chair in a gas chamber.
"Jesus Fuckin' Christ!!!! UNCLE! UNCLE!! Enough!"
Xander flopped off to the side, releasing his hold on his victim and sucking his teeth in victory. He tucked his hands under his head and watched his bed mate leap to his feet and slap his balled up t-shirt to his face.
Spike stared at his boy in horror, removing the shirt long enough to make a threat of his own.
"Don't ask me to EVER eat that arse!"
Xander scowled. Maybe he had lost after all.
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